Page 20 of Bad Influence
“What are you going to do here?” He counters.
He has a point. I literally have no plans and nowhere to be. I’ve never even seen the outside of a tattoo parlor. I was convinced my mother would combust into flames if I went anywhere near one. Hell, if I can stab a man in the ass, I can certainly go to a tattoo parlor.
“Let me freshen up,” I say.
Before he can change his mind, I rush off. I’m going to makethis work. I have the opportunity, for the first time in my life, to find myself. To find what I love, what I want to do, and I am not going to throw it away.
I change into a pair of wide legged tan slacks and a sleeveless polo, pulling my hair into a ponytail with a few loose strands framing my face. A little bit of concealer, lip tint and mascara finishes off my make-up and I’m good to go.
I step out into the hall, pulling on my shoes. Killian looks me up and down once, his face expressionless.
“What?” I look down at myself, feeling a little self conscious.
“Nothing. We can grab something to eat from the cafe.”
When he turns around, I poke my tongue out at him like a little kid. How the hell am I supposed to know what he’s thinking if he refuses to tell me? I’m not a mind reader. As I follow him out of the apartment, I tell myself that I shouldn’t even care. I’m done thinking about other people and putting their emotions, wants, and needs over my own.
CHAPTER 8
Killian
One look at Caroline,and you can tell she doesn’t belong in the hipster neighborhood of Brooklyn where everyone is trying hard to be someone they’re not while being a carbon copy of fifty other people.
Her whole outfit screams trust fund baby who’s never had to work a day in her life. Not that it’s true. Last I heard, she was working at our family’s law firm and was doing very well for herself. She definitely has the tenacity to make it as a lawyer. Which begs the question, doesn’t she have clients to handle? How can she disappear indefinitely?
I don’t know why I asked her to stay last night, or why I asked her to come with me today. What the hell is she even going to do at the shop? She clearly doesn’t belong there. She belongs to the sect of people who buy my paintings, not those who get tattoos from me.
The only possible reason is I didn’t want to leave her alone. Not after the way she looked at Eve and Lilith. Those two are openly affectionate and there’s no denying how much they love each other. Caroline looked at them with unfiltered longing.
I grew up watching my parents' strained marriage and my mother’s unhappiness which she always ignored because imagewas more important. I didn’t want to believe that Caroline willingly signed up for that, but when the wedding card showed up, I had to accept the obvious. And so did Caroline because she made this choice. If she wanted love, she could have chosen differently.
I have to keep my distance. Caroline’s life choices don’t concern me, not even if they bring her directly to my door.
She’s a few steps ahead of me and stops walking, turning to look at me over her shoulder. The sun shines brightly, a breeze ruffling her hair as it brings with it the scent of her perfume. Caroline smiles softly, and my heart thuds in my chest, banging against my ribcage.
Fuck.
She can’t stay here. I’ll lose my fucking mind.
“Where am I going?”
Shit, did I say that out loud? But no, she’s just asking for directions.
“Turn right at the end of the street,” I say.
She resumes walking, and I make a plan to call my grandmother and get Caroline out of here. If she wants to stay in New York, fine. Maybe my grandmother has another hidden apartment she can give to Caroline.
“Are you hungry?” I ask her, as we get close to a cafe. The large windows show that it’s not too crowded right now. Not that I have a client any time soon. I needed to get out of the apartment.
Not that it makes a difference since I brought the problem with me.
“Sure. Do you want me to get something for you as well?” Caroline asks, already moving towards the door.
“I can get it,” I say.
She looks me up and down and then back at the cafe. “Really? You’re willingly going to walk into a place that proudly serves lavender oat lattes?”
“I happen to like lavender oat lattes,” I defend, even though I’ve never had one in my life. I stick to espresso. I have nothingagainst anyone who prefers fancy coffee, I just prefer mine without fuss. But I am pretentious enough to want Brazilian medium roast coffee in a specific blend.
