All the Pretty Lies (10 page)

When the pen first touches his skin, it skips
along. I rub the tip over my palm to loosen it up before getting it
back into position. The first few strokes feel odd. I’ve never
drawn on someone else’s skin before. In fact, I’ve never even
written on
my own skin.
But it gets easier the more I get
into it.

Before long, I’m gliding over skin and
skimming over bone as I draw letters and swirls. I get so absorbed
in it, I find myself going back to do some shading and adding some
personal little touches to it.

I have no idea how long I’ve been at it when
I finish, but I look down at Hemi and he’s just watching me.
Quietly. Intently.

“All done.”

“You really
do
get lost in your art,
don’t you?”

I smile to hide my embarrassment. “Yeah, I
kinda do.”

“We’ve got a lot in common.”

I nod. I don’t know what to say to that. It
makes me happy to hear him admit it, though.

Hemi’s eyes search mine. In them, I usually
see either heat or a teasing light, but right now neither is the
case. They seem…troubled. Like he’s conflicted about something. I
wonder if he doesn’t
want
to have so much in common with
someone else. I wonder if he doesn’t
want
to let someone in,
let someone get close.

Without another word, Hemi moves away from me
and slides off the bed to saunter into the bathroom. With the door
open, I can see him examining my work in the mirror. He runs his
fingers over some of the details, but says nothing. And his eyes,
his eyes are still guarded. I get more anxious by the second.

Finally he returns to the main room. “This is
good, Sloane. Really good.”

I exhale and give him a shy smile. “Thank
you.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any trouble
learning to tattoo.”

“Really?”

“No trouble at all.”

I sit up in bed, gathering courage for what
I’m about to ask. It will require more of a commitment from Hemi
and I’m not sure he’ll agree to it. Saying he’ll teach me to tattoo
is different than being, like, a preceptor.

“Here’s the thing. I’m in my senior year at
UGA and not only do I have Advanced Figure Drawing and Anatomy this
semester, but I also have a drawing elective that can contain a
practical aspect if I get it cleared through my professor. Would
you, um, would you be willing to be my preceptor? I could use my
experiences with you as drawing and anatomy in a practical sense.
From what some of the others in my classes are doing, I think this
would be acceptable, and it would kill two birds with one
stone.”

Hemi watches me closely. I can see that his
mind is whirling behind his eyes and it makes me tense as I
wait.

“I think I could do that. We could start you
out doing some original sketches then work you up to doing
stencils. Then, eventually, to using the gun on skin.”

I’m thrilled for several reasons, not the
least of which is the amount of time this means I’ll get to spend
with Hemi.

“That would be fantastic! And I really
appreciate it.”

He gives me a tight smile as he absently runs
his fingers over the words that I drew on his side. “My pleasure.”
He holds my gaze for a few more seconds before he looks away,
almost uncomfortably. “I’m gonna run out and get us some supplies.
Toothbrush, toothpaste, things like that. Do you need
anything?”

I don’t know why, but I get the feeling he’s
anxious to get away from me.

“No, I’ll be fine until we get home tomorrow.
Toothbrush and toothpaste is plenty.”

Hemi nods. “I’m gonna put my clothes back on
and then I’ll hit the road.”

I nod as well and he disappears back into the
bathroom, closing the door behind him. When he reemerges, he holds
up his phone. “What’s your number? I’ll text you from my phone so
you can call if you need anything?”

I think it’s an odd request since he’s only
going out for a couple of things. How long does he plan to be
gone?

I keep my thoughts to myself, however, and
I’m as casual as I can be when I give him my number. He taps it
into his phone and a few seconds later, mine chirps with an
incoming text. It says simply, “Hemi.”

Then, with a rushed
Be right back,
he’s gone. I wait for about half an hour, wide awake, before I
scoot down in the bed to get more comfortable. It’s then that the
events of the day catch up to me and my eyes get heavy.

I don’t know when I fell asleep, but when I
wake, all the lights are off in the room but for the lamp on the
desk. I see Hemi sitting there, sketching something onto the
complementary notepad. His head is bent and his face is intense in
the soft, direct light. I roll over to look at the clock. It’s
twenty minutes after two. When I glance back to Hemi, his head is
up and his eyes are on me. He says nothing and neither do I. I just
lie back down, closing my eyes and trying to push thoughts of him
out of my head so I can go back to sleep.

And, sometime later, I do.

Finally.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN- Hemi

Sloane has been quiet all morning. I’m sure
she’s responding to me disappearing for a while last night. I
needed to go get my head together, think things through. Seeing
those letters on my side reminded me of my goal, my mission. And,
even though I like Sloane and I feel guilty for what I’m doing to
her, it’s what I
have to do.
Period. If I told her, she
might even understand it. Then again, she might not. But I’ll never
know because I can’t tell her. I can’t trust her with it. She could
ruin everything and that’s a risk I just can’t take.

As soon as she woke up and said her leg was
feeling much better, I suggested we get on the road. It’s Saturday,
so she might not have plans, but I do. I need to get back to work.
And now I need sleep, since I got none last night.

When we are about an hour outside Savannah,
it starts to sprinkle rain, so I turn down the music and pull off
onto the shoulder to put up the top. It’s as I’m easing back onto
the highway that I hear a grumbling sound.

“Shit, damn, piss! I’m such an asshole!” I
say aloud as I start surveying signs we pass along the
interstate.

“What?” Sloane asks me, her expression
puzzled. “Why are you an asshole?”

“You haven’t even had breakfast. And I’m sure
you’re hungry.”

She shrugs. “I’m fine. I’ll live.”

“Stop being so agreeable. You need to speak
up, tell me what you want.”

“Seriously, I’m fine. It’s not a—”

She’s so sweet and understanding and it only
makes me feel worse about what I did. What I’m
doing
. “Look,
I feel like shit and you’re just making it worse. Call me a selfish
bastard. Tell me to stop the car and get some food in your damn
stomach. Punch me in the leg. Do something!” My rant comes out
angrier than I intended. I can tell that by the stung expression
that now clouds Sloane’s features.

“Fine,” she says. She pauses for a second
before she reaches across the seat and punches me in the leg. And
it’s no light little girl punch either. This is a punch she
probably gives that Sasquatch brother of hers. “Stop at the next
restaurant and get me some breakfast, you selfish bastard.”

There’s sincerity in her voice, so much so
that it leads me to believe she has some aggression of her own to
get out, no doubt a product of last night.

“I didn’t say you had to do it
all,”
I
mutter, teasing her. “Damn.”

She glares at me for a few seconds. I stare
back, wearing my most wounded expression. Finally, she relents and
smiles.

“Sorry. I get grouchy when I’m hungry.”

“Grouchy? The hell you say! You’re mean as a
snake!”

She laughs and slaps my arm playfully. “I am
not.”

“Now I’m gonna have to explain why I have a
limp.”

She rolls her eyes, but her face looks more
relaxed, which was my goal. It won’t do me a bit of good to
alienate her at this point. I need her. And I need her to be able
to talk to me.

I see a sign for an IHOP, so I take that
exit. Within a few minutes, we are seated in a booth with menus in
our hands.

After we order and the waitress brings us
coffee, Sloane says conversationally, “I don’t blame you for
forgetting breakfast.”

“And why is that?”

“You said you’re not the breakfast kind of
guy.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“I’m flattered that you’d make an exception
for me.”

“We didn’t sleep together, so this doesn’t
count.”

“So you don’t take the girls you have sex
with out for breakfast?”

“Nope.”

“And why is that?”

I shrug. “I just don’t have the time or the
inclination to get that…involved with anybody.” Sloane doesn’t meet
my eyes. She blows carefully into her mug to cool her coffee before
she takes a sip. I take the opportunity to change the subject. “So,
tell me about this family of yours.”

She sighs. “Well, I have three brothers.
They’re all cops. My father is, too. To say they’re overprotective
would be like calling the Gulf of Mexico a puddle of rain.”

I try not to seem too interested, even though
I am. “Three brothers? All cops? Wow! I bet that
is
rough.
Tell me about them.”

“Sig is the youngest. He’s not as rigid as
the other two. We’ve always been close and he’s not as hard on me
as the others are. He’s only been out of police academy for about a
year. Next is Scout. He’s kind of a split between both my parents,
temperament-wise. He can be more understanding at times, but he
isn’t always that way. And then there’s Steven. He’s the one you
met the other night at Cuff’s. He’s a bear. Just like Dad. Those
two would never let me out of the house if they had their way.”

“Is that why he was acting like such a prick?
He didn’t like that you were there?”

“Yeah, I showed up without giving them any
kind of warning. I wanted to make a point. And I did. Oh, boy, did
I ever!”

“Seems like he didn’t take it very well.”

“Well, by the time I actually saw Steven, I’d
had quite a bit to drink. It probably wasn’t the best timing.”

“Did you know he’d be there?”

“Yeah, my family frequents Cuff’s quite a
bit.” She takes another sip of coffee and then frowns. “Speaking of
Cuff’s, what were you doing there? That’s a cop bar, I
thought.”

I school my features. “Do you realize the
population of cops that have tattoos? They’re almost as bad as
people in the military.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding. “I guess I never
thought of it that way.”

I take a drink of my coffee, too. “So, what
does your mother say about all the overprotective men?”

Sloane’s smile is sad and I immediately feel
like I’ve stepped in a painful pile of shit. “She’d probably just
roll her eyes if she knew. She died when I was seven years
old.”

“God, Sloane, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She lived a good life while she
could. She had acute lymphoblastic leukemia. She had it first when
she was just a little girl. She did great for a lot of years.
Unfortunately, she had a relapse. And when it recurs in adulthood,
the prognosis is usually bad. She relapsed when she was
twenty-eight and died when she was thirty.”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry I brought it up.”

“Don’t be. Really. She was a wonderful
mother. She never let it keep her from
really living.
She
was determined to squeeze as much happiness out of life as she
could. And she did.”

Ain’t that a kick to the nads?

I feel like such an ass for bringing it up.
“I’m glad she did. Life is short. It’s up to us to make the most of
it.”

“Exactly!” Sloane says emphatically. “That’s
why I want to start living
now.
My dad and my brothers might
not like it, but I’m an adult and they can’t keep me locked away in
a pain-proof, mistake-proof,
life
-proof tower forever. They
have to learn to let me go.”

Her words…oh God, her words!

“Sometimes it’s harder to let go than what
you might think.”

Sloane looks at me over her coffee cup, her
expression…odd. “I don’t doubt that it is, but it’s necessary. We
have to move on. We have to live life. Just like those words on
your side—‘Live, no regrets’.”

I nod, staring into the black liquid in my
mug. Before either of us has to say anything else, the waitress
comes with our food. I’ll ask her more about her family later. But
right now, I think we both need a break.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN- Sloane

“Are you kidding me? That’s
it?
That’s
all
that happened?” Sarah asks me from the passenger seat.
It’s my turn to drive to school this week and she’s starting Monday
off with an inquisition that the KGB would be proud of.

“Yep.”

“Girl, we need to watch some porn. You need
help. A
lot
of help.”

“I don’t need to watch porn, Sarah. And I
don’t need help. He came right out and told me that he doesn’t
usually like ‘innocent’ girls. He acts like he’s gonna ruin my life
if he gets involved with me.”

“Then you need to convince him otherwise.
With your shirt off. That always helps change a man’s mind.”

“Oh God, Sarah!
You’re
the one that
needs help.”

“No,
you
need help. I told you that.
I’m telling you, Sloane, you need for
this guy
to help you
spread your…wings.” Her pause is intentional and when I look over
at her, she’s grinning devilishly.

“You’re disgusting, you know that?”

“You wouldn’t think so if you’d go ahead and
ditch that pesky virginity.”

“I’m trying! It’s not as easy as I thought
it’d be.”

“It’s
exactly
as easy as you thought
it’d be. You’re just losing your nerve.”

“But I’m not! Not at all. I want him. Really
bad. But for some reason he’s determined not to give in to it. I
don’t know what it is. It’s more than just my…inexperience. It’s
like he wants to leave me alone, but can’t. And he resents it.” I
think about my own words. “Well, maybe ‘resents’ isn’t the right
word. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like he wants to be with
me, but then he doesn’t. Like he feels like he should stay away
from me, but then he doesn’t. It’s freaky.”