Jesse (Damage Control 2)

“Come again?” I stop in my tracks.

“Man, yours is tomorrow. Hate to tell you this, but today’s mine. You came over here for nothing.”

Oh, Jesus Fuck. “You serious right now?”

“Yep. Sorry, J. Not that I wouldn’t mind swapping with you, but after my shift at the movie theater tonight, I plan on getting hammered and will need tomorrow morning to recover.”

“What’s tonight? Fuck.” I kick at the carpet and jam my hands into my jeans pockets. I wander inside, following Seth. “Can’t believe this.”

Although, okay yeah, I’m tired. My memory’s shot. Should’ve seen this coming.

“Hey, Seth?” I sink into one of the ugly-ass orange easy chairs beside the reception desk and rub my eyes. Amber’s face flashes behind my eyelids, I hear her laugh in my mind, and God, I just wish I could be pressed to her right now. She’d feel so good, I think—and how fucked up is it that she’s stuck on my mind? I blink, the shop returning around me. “About tonight, you said—”

I shoot to my feet. “Damn, are you okay? Seth!”

“Fuck.” He’s hunched over, clutching his shoulder, his face twisted in a grimace.

I’m by his side in two long strides. “What the hell’s wrong?”

He hisses out a breath and slowly straightens. “I’m okay.”

“Fuck that, a blind man can see you’re not fucking okay. Is that the shoulder you dislocated?”

Dislocated when Evangeline’s psychotic ex, Blake, found a way to get back to her by using her friends as punching bags.

He nods and lets me steer him to the stool inside Zane’s workstation. “It’ll pass.”

“You shouldn’t force it, man. Did the doctor clear you to mop and sweep?”

He shrugs, then groans and curses.

Right.

“What about your ribs? And the kidney bruising? Did you get checked?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He starts to get up, scowling at the tattoo shop in general. “It’s just the shoulder. Doc said it might hurt for a while longer.”

“Listen.” I let him get up, then grab him by the shoulders, making him yelp, and steer him toward the ugly orange chairs. “You sit there now.”

“What the hell are you doing, J?”

“Your shoulder hurts. Mine doesn’t. I’m here, and I got nothing to do. I’m too tired to argue about this, so don’t say anything, okay? I’ll clean.”

“But tomorrow—”

“Yeah, I know. Tomorrow, too. Rest that shoulder, d’you hear me? Dr. J’s orders.”

“Dr. J, huh?” He snorts but doesn’t resist when I push him down into the chair and go look for the mop, which tells me he has to be in a fair amount of pain, even if he doesn’t admit to it.

Damn. He should tell Zane about it, but knowing how annoying Zane can be when he hovers, I understand why he hasn’t.

“Dr. J, you coming tonight, right?” Seth asks after a while.

“Tonight.” I dig through my stagnant memory for clues. Nothing comes up. “What’s tonight? Was I invited?”

“It’s guys’ night out. Beer and pool. Damn right you were invited.”

About to tell him to screw the beer and pool night because I’m not in the fucking mood, I hesitate.