Permanent (Indelibly Marked) (Volume 1) (10 page)

Ivan saluted.

He wagged his finger at his best friend.

“What got in your boxers?”

Not sure what he wanted to say, Shane gave him the glare.

Ivan crossed his arms. “Speak.”

“Stay out of lands you don’t have a passport to.”

“What does that mean?”

He answered with a grunt. Sometimes no words were the best words.

“Maybe I don’t need a passport. Maybe I already have a working visa.” Ivan flicked Shane’s Mohawk and walked away.

He waved his hand, wishing Ivan and everyone, except Lindsay, would disappear. Walking backward, he returned to his station. He rolled his chair into a position where he could see her. She resumed sorting papers. After he finished the tattoo he would ask her if he could buy a ticket to her land.

“Ready?” He pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. His customer nodded and Shane picked up his gun. He managed to clear his mind, entrench himself in his work and tried to plan exactly what to say to Lindsay. No doubt he was not her usual date, and he didn’t want to come off like a joke.

“Shane.” Carson waved at him and pointed. “I’m done with the outline.”

His brother’s voice jolted him back to the present and he turned to assess Carson’s work. Shane admired the perfectly straight lines and smooth curves, fighting a smile to make sure Carson didn’t get cocky. “Good work, that’s an easy fill-in job now.”

Carson gave him a thumbs up and Shane swiveled his stool back to his own customer when male laughter roared from the front. Though not an unusual sound for a Friday night, with Lindsay there, he slid back to check that nothing too wild was happening out there.

Members of a local rock band were shouting and three approached the front desk. The lead singer leaned over the counter. Shane ground his teeth. A guy in a band was more interesting than a simple tattoo artist.

When the rocker dude reached out for Lindsay and she jumped back, Shane leapt from his stool, darted across the floor and tore off his gloves. He lunged toward Lindsay and grabbed her, his heart beating as if he’d sprinted a mile. Lindsay instantly took hold of him and he balled his hand in a fist, ready to knock Mr. Musician’s ass across the room.

“Hey.” The guy stepped back. “What’s up, Shane?”

“I was just about to ask you that.” He pulled Lindsay closer.

“We were just talking to your front girl.” He shrugged. “Little bit of a different flavor for you, don’t you think?”

“Some like vanilla. Some like chocolate.”

Ivan and Carson sprinted to the front and joined them.

“I thought she was more of a cherry jubilee.” The rocker gave him a one-sided smile.

“What did you say?” Shane’s entire body sizzled and he let go of her.

“No.” Ivan dragged him backward and pushed Lindsay into his chest. “I think it may not be the best idea to keep our business manager up front where the customers might confuse her as being something else.”

Shane leaned around his friend to stare down the second rate rocker and tensed.

“Shane.” Ivan stepped in front and blocked his view. “There’s a perfect table right by your station to set Lindsay up, then she can watch the tattoos too.”

“Linds, how about we take you to the back?” Shane inhaled. The color had drained from her face, making her eyes an even more vibrant blue. She was beautiful and he was in trouble. “You’ll have more room.”

“Okay.” Her voice barely a whisper, she pushed back from him and gathered her things. Carson followed.

“We’re a bit protective of our business manager.” Ivan reached over to a mini fridge and grabbed a few sodas.

“I can see why.” The rocker nodded then thrust his hand in Shane’s direction. “I didn’t know she was
your
business manager.”

Without a word he shook the man’s hand then returned to his customer while Lindsay quietly set up.

She resumed her work but remained silent, not even glancing in his direction. Needing to make sure he gave this customer his best effort, he finished up his shading, dressed the tattoo and went over the after-care instructions.

The man left and he cleaned up his station. Still Lindsay didn’t speak. A sick lump of nausea settled between his heart and his throat. When he was sure he would hurl, he gave her a light scratch on her back to get her attention.

She flinched and turned toward him, her skin still pale.

“Let’s talk.” He pointed to one of the private rooms, relieved she followed with no questions asked. Once alone, he closed the door. “Are you all right?”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze, but nodded.

“Lindsay?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t work here.”

Damn. He clenched his fists. “I will never let anything happen to you.”

At last she looked at him, but she shifted her focus and stared beyond him. “I don’t want to ruin anything with your work.”

“What?”

“Those are your customers.”

“That guy was a jerk.”

“I don’t want to make trouble.”

“We already discussed our working arrangements. You have to be here.” What he really wanted to do before he almost killed the guy was to ask her out, take her somewhere, just the two of them.

What was he thinking?

At her work everyone gawked at them, judged them. He figured it was par for the course in the land of mainstream accounting. But what about his place? His shop was supposed to be a safe haven, only there, Lindsay stood on the outside. Worse yet, while he could play the tough guy, she wasn’t equipped to deal with what his world offered.

Now he knew why he put off asking her out. How could he bring her into this? “Please work here. I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” His stomach bottomed out. He could ask her to be there, but he couldn’t ask her out. Instead, he held his arms out to her for a hug.

Without pause, she entered his embrace.

Shane closed his eyes, taking in the way she fit perfectly against him, how her hair tickled his face. “Well, I like you in the back much better.” His voice came out hoarse.

“Yeah, but now I’m that much closer to the needles.”

“I told you I will never let anything happen to you.”

She pulled back. “I should get to work. I’ve almost got your paperwork in a system.”

“I’ll let you handle that.” The last thing he wanted to think about was that garbage.

“You should get to your next customer. Whoever’s out there waited three months for this and you need the money.”

Before she left the room he grabbed her hand, taking in the contrast between them. Her fingernails coated only with shiny clear polish. Her ring finger sported a bit of a bump on it from how she held her pencil, but she wore no jewelry, unlike the couple rings he usually threw on before heading out to work. Most of all he noted how her hand fit in his. He covered his move by swinging her hand in a playful gesture.

“What?” She let go of his hand.

“I want you to sit right there so I can see you.” He winked as they left the room and she sat at her makeshift office space.

Ivan came up and dangled Lindsay’s car keys in front of him. “Carlos says he’ll trade you for a Porsche on his shoulder. He said that’s the only way he’ll get a Porsche.”

Shane swiped the keys away and shoved them into his pocket. Tonight they would drive separately, and that said everything.

Chapter Eight

“So as I was telling you before the meeting, while I was in college I interned at our firm and when I graduated they offered me a full time position.” Rick caught up to her as they exited a large Orange County office building.

“That’s very nice.” Lindsay had broken Shane’s rule and gone to the forbidden suburbs. Luck on her side, her lawmaker was in the middle of a big back tattoo, but she would be back for the big magazine event later that night.

“This has got to be a lot better than counting pennies for the masses in Ohio.” He elbowed her. “You really got a break.”

Actually, she missed working one-on-one with clients and making a difference in people’s lives, but at least she had that with Shane. Before she got the chance to defend her penny counting, her phone vibrated. “I’ll meet you at the car.” She hit the headset Shane gave her to use when she drove. He personally fitted it on her ear and admired her virgin lobe again. “This is Lindsay Stevens.”

Emily laughed. “Is the creep nearby?”

“That would be correct.” She smiled at Emily’s assessment.

“Shane’s with a customer or he would have called himself.”

“Yes.” She turned away from Rick, hating when Shane had someone else call for him.

“He wanted me to first tell you that he would have called ‘cause he knows you hate when someone else calls for him, but he’s in the middle of that big back tattoo.”

“Okay.”

“He wanted to make sure you were coming by the shop right after work.”

“Of course.” A chuckle escaped. Where else would she go? As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the moment she took over Shane’s financial fiasco, he took over her life. It sort of happened, slowly, like mold growing where you couldn’t see it, and she sighed. Who was she kidding? It happened fast like a kick in the backside.

Every night she went to Shane’s. Not that she didn’t try to go somewhere else, but every time the people at work planned something it got cancelled or postponed, except for last Thursday. She winced. Last Thursday she turned them down because Shane needed her when he got a stack of bills. Her fearless artist nearly melted down and she’d rushed right to him.

“I’m on my way.” She took a few more steps away from Rick.

Emily’s voice lowered. “Ivan wanted pizza tonight, but I told him that you and I wanted salads so Shane insisted on salads.”

She nodded. Every night they had the same argument about dinner, but she and Emily usually won. “I want that one with the tortilla strips.”

“I know, Shane told me to get you that one.” Emily laughed again. “He’s ordering early because that magazine is shooting at the shop tonight, which is why I really called because he wanted to make sure you didn’t forget.”

She bit her tongue to keep from laughing. Forgetting was not an option. He mentioned it at least six times, but she would have remembered anyway, especially after he told her she was an integral part of the shop.

“He also said he knew you’d remembered.”

“I’ll be there soon.” She looked up at the sun heading west and knew she had to get on the road.

“Remember, you said I could do your makeup for the shoot.”

“I’m not going to be in the picture.” The more she did with them the tighter into the fold she became, but she just couldn’t stop. They were drugs and Shane was the dealer, he even played with needles for a living.

“Okay, but can I do your makeup anyway?” Emily’s voice took on a whiney tone.

“Sure, but I got to go. Bye.” She turned to Rick. “We better go.”

“I know who your friend is.” Rick pointed at her. “I’ve seen him before.”

“Who?” A little concerned about time, she sped up on the way to her car.

“Your Mohawked buddy.” He followed. “I’ve seen him on TV and stuff. He’s the tattooer to the stars.”

At his sarcastic tone, she spun, almost colliding with her nemesis. “Tattooist. They are called tattooists, and yes, he is well known.”

“So what are you doing over there?”

For once in her life she knew what to say. “I’m getting my sleeves done.” She slid her sunglasses on.

“What?”

“Sleeves, shoulder to wrist tattoos.” She opened her car door and got in with a grin. When Shane gave her the line she vowed to use it. “Why do you think I always cover my arms?”

Rather than getting in on the passenger side, Rick went to her window. “I have some things to do out here. You’re on your own driving back.”

She swallowed. “Don’t you have to get back to the office?”

“By the time you get back, the workday will be over. No need to cover for me, Mr. Sebastian knows where I am.” He pointed to his chest. “I’m the closer.”

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. It was three, how long could it take to get back to Beverly Hills? What was he closing? The client said they were impressed with their presentation and would let them know. “I don’t know the way back, Rick.”

“You need to get your sense of direction.” He reached into his briefcase and tossed her the printout he used to get them there. “Just follow the Golden State Freeway, you’ll be fine.”

“Rick.” Something told her not to leave him here.

He clicked his tongue and pointed at her just as a few men from their meeting pulled up in a shiny black car. “Later.”

She hit her dashboard as he walked away. He planned everything, down to insisting she drive today. Somehow she was in the middle of a scheme.

With a deep breath she tried to get her bearings. “Golden State Freeway.” Shane taught her the freeways using numbers, and she bit her nail as she took in her surroundings.

Everything looked exactly the same, every building, every tree, everything.

She pulled out of the office park and slowed to a stop. It was as if someone took one city block, put it on a copy machine and made duplicates for her to travel through. This was like being in a bad movie, and she knew exactly why Shane told her to stay away from Orange County.

Between reading the map and pure chance, she managed to find the 5 freeway, also known as the Golden State, and breathed easier as she merged into traffic, her only goal was getting back to Los Angeles. She couldn’t be late, not tonight. Shane would be upset.

Her stomach twisted, she broke into a sweat and she shook as panic overtook her. Shane being upset shouldn’t cause her to want to hurl, as he would say.

“Damn it.” She bit her lip until she tasted blood. This was his fault. She didn’t ask for someone so attentive, strong, sweet and cute to come into her life. She hit her steering wheel. He wasn’t cute. No. Actually, he was beyond cute, way beyond. She’d become so used to his edgy look that any man without a Mohawk, tattoos, and a face that could grace any magazine, seemed boring. Boring could be good too. Her rational brain couldn’t even convince her of that one.