There You Stand (Between Breaths 5)

He was my second-to-last appointment of the day and the tattoo on his back was really shaping up to be something striking. The branches ghosting out in different directions were as forbidding as they were breathtaking—just like Jude.

He lay on my table in the usual position, gazing at me while I worked. There was more of a gentle effortlessness between us now. Depending on the topic, I wasn’t wrenching answers from him any longer.

And there was a winging in my chest upon hearing his voice. Every single time.

“Is this a tree from your childhood?” I asked. “Maybe from that farm you talked about?”

He nodded, his lips quirking into a grin. “It was in northern Yorkshire.”

Yorkshire? I allowed that word to roll off my tongue. I felt a niggling deep in my gut that I couldn’t quite shake. Something about it felt off. Strange. Jude’s last name was York, after all.

“My sister liked to watch me climb it,” he said, his gruff voice now laced with sorrow.

“Sounds like it was a good memory, though,” I mumbled, still trying to fit all the pieces together in my brain.

“One of the last times I remember being happy,” he said, his chin quivering, his voice barely above a whisper. “And innocent.”

He shut his eyes on that statement and melancholy clawed at my chest.

“Jude,” I said, giving the needle a break from his skin and shifting toward him. My fingers stroked his cheek. He inhaled a breath and opened his eyes.

“Does your sister live in the States?” I asked as my thumb skimmed across his chin and down to his throat.

“She was always ill,” he said, his voice cracking. “Cystic fibrosis.”

My stomach seized up and without him even expressing it out loud, I knew his sister was no longer in this world. Fuck, had Jude experienced a shitty life.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “Is that why you guys moved to the States?”

“A new start at life,” he said in a morose tone. Then he took a fortifying breath as if to gather the pieces of himself together. “First we moved to the city. Outside of London. I loved it there. That’s where Mum had met an American businessman.”

“Your stepfather?”

His lips drew together in a tight line.

Jude was sharing himself with me and for that I was grateful, but I knew how this story ended and the idea of it made me gloomy and miserable.

“What kind of business was he involved in?”

“When he first met my mum he said he was an investor in several different ventures. Restaurants and bars.” His eyes darkened to a stormy green. “He was always perfectly dressed, busy on his phone, and in meetings. All seemed perfectly legit.”

I stared at him, waiting for the fallout. “So that wasn’t true?”

He shrugged but the gesture didn’t match the bleakness in his eyes. “Most of it, sure.”

“And the rest?”

“None of it noble,” he said, practically spitting out the words. “Turns out he was a ruthless businessman. Expert at getting what he wanted, bending people to his will.”

“Fuck,” I whispered and then I saw how the light was extinguished from his gaze. His eyes had transformed to flat jade orbs and he had gone off somewhere in his own head.

Before he shut me out completely, I attempted to ease us in a different direction. “There’s got to be other happy moments in your life. Tell me about another one.”

“The first time I got on a skateboard,” he said, a slight glimmer returning. “I was about sixteen on the streets in London. When we moved to the States that had become my escape. When I’m on my board, my mind goes into some kind of zone.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” I said.

“With your art?”

“Yeah, except I kind of lost myself a bit along the way the last couple of years.”

He nodded in understanding and I felt in tune with him. In harmony. And it was completely invigorating.

“I can name another cheerful time,” he said with a smirk.

My fingers were resting on his shoulder and I lifted my thumb to his chin. “Yeah?”

His head tilted to the side. “When some crazy-arse tattoo artist is talking my ear off because he can’t put a sock in it.”

My breath caught in the back of my throat and I nearly toppled off my stool. “Are you admitting you like being around me?”

His cheeks streaked pink and he looked away, seeming so young and innocent. “When you’re not talking rubbish maybe.”

“Best be careful, I’m holding an arsenal of needles,” I said and he laughed. Fuck, I loved that laugh. “Besides, I’m able to keep my lips sealed more when I’m with you.”

“Is that you divulging something?”

“Yeah, guess so.” My body became stationary as I thought it through. “When you’re around, that quiet stillness inside me doesn’t feel so lonely.”

His eyes softened and there was so much passion in his gaze. I wanted to stand up, reach for his hand, and walk the hell out of here. Go somewhere private and take the time to get to know each other more intimately. We had yet to have that opportunity and it was killing me.

“Jude,” I said, moving closer. “I think we should—”

There was a knock on the door and Emmy entered the room. “Food was delivered. I’m just going to leave your sandwich here.”

As she turned toward the door, I noticed how she kept her gaze cast downward and her eyes were red as if she’d been upset.