Keeping my face neutral, I hide all my internal turmoil. “Plus, how the fuck is one girl going to make a whole crime family disappear?”
“Obviously, she had help.”
“Who would help her? She’s a nobody. Persona non grata in our world.” For the first time since I got back, I’m glad about the way my father has set everything up. Staying away from Aspen is protecting her as well as my family.
“Um, okay.” Billy tries to join our tense conversation. “I’m done cleaning. Gonna start drawing up your tattoo.”
“I’m heading to my room,” Nash explains as he gets up from the bed. “Thanks for the tattoo, Billy. I see you around, Quinton.”
“See you around,” I mutter, but on the inside, I imagine wrapping my hands around his throat. I need to get him off Aspen’s trail, no matter what. I won’t break my promise to her. I’ll keep her safe.
As soon as Nash is gone, I turn to face Billy. “Listen up. You will tattoo exactly what I tell you to, and you will not tell anyone about this, or I swear I will find someone you care about and kill them. Got it?”
“Got it,” Billy answers without thinking, nodding his head furiously.
“Great, now start drawing. This is what I want…” I give him a detailed description of the bear I want, and he uses his iPad to draw it just like I asked. I have to give it to him. He is talented and able to create an image just as I imagined it.
Once he’s done, he prints out the design on transfer paper and places it on my arm. “Looks good like that,” I confirm, and he starts his tattoo gun a few seconds later.
The needle starts penetrating my skin, and though I find it uncomfortable, it doesn’t hurt like I thought it would. It’s more of an annoyance than actual pain, which is disappointing. I was actually looking forward to an ache other than the one in my chest.
The buzzing of the tattoo machine dancing over my skin is almost soothing. Minutes turn into hours before I know it. Billy doesn’t ask any questions or try to make small talk, which I would’ve shut down immediately anyway.
While he finishes the shadings, I decide to pull out my phone and text my father.
Me: Nash is snooping around Aspen. He thinks she has something to do with the disappearance of the Valentine family. Can you find out if a video was sent to him?
Dad: I’ll see what I can do. Meanwhile, tread lightly. Nash’s father, Nathaniel Brookshire, is one of the founding members of Corium.
“Fuck.” How did I not know about this? I tuck my phone back into my pocket.
“Almost done.” Billy pours some green liquid soap onto a paper towel and rubs it down my arm. The excess ink wipes away, letting me see all the small, detailed lines better.
“There’s a mirror on the bathroom door if you want to check it out.” He nods toward the door.
I stand, my legs stiff from sitting still for so long. I walk over to the mirror and take a closer look at my arm.
The fierce-looking bear looks realistic from afar, but close up, it looks almost abstract, with harsh lines that shouldn’t be there but somehow belong. His fur turns into an angry pattern, which perfectly hides the name I asked him to integrate.
Aspen.
11
ASPEN
People keep telling me how strong I am, but if they could see what is going on in my head, they wouldn’t say such things. The bruises on my skin have faded, but an ugly darkness remains inside me that continues to grow. It sticks to my insides like black tar, coating my feelings and thoughts, no matter how mundane they are.
I shower quickly, feeling vulnerable and exposed while naked. So far, I have avoided looking in the mirror every time I’m in the bathroom. But today, I built up the courage to force myself to.
I showered in such haste that the mirror didn’t even have time to fog up. I plant my feet right in front of it to see my entire body. With trembling fingers and a thundering heartbeat, I reach for the towel and undo the knot at my chest.
The fluffy white towel slides off my body and lands in a heap at my feet. I suck a ragged breath into my lungs and let my gaze roam over every inch of skin.
For the most part, I look normal. The black and blue areas have returned to a normal skin color. The only marks remaining are thin red lines around my wrists, and I’m pretty sure those marks are scars that will stay with me permanently.
Frowning, I turn but continue looking in the mirror to see my backside. At first glimpse, all I see are the marks on my lower back and butt. Crisscross lines, some wider than others.