Indelibly Intimate (17 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Hammer looked up from the skull he was placing on a guy’s biceps in time to see Quinn slip away. Biting the inside of his cheek, he lowered his brows and focused on his work.

Something had gone wrong. Somewhere between the incredible night they’d had together and this morning, something changed between them. She’d kept her distance from him all day and he wanted to know why.

Minutes ticked away, then an hour, with no sign of Sparky’s return. Déjà vu gripped him as he wiped the fresh tattoo down, medicated it and bandaged it.

“Thanks, man.” The customer shook Hammer’s gloved hand. “It’s exactly how I imagined it.”

“Glad to help.” Hammer nodded politely. “The new shop will be in Fell’s Point. Hope to see you there sometime.”

“You got it.” The client left the booth, nearly colliding with a wan-faced Quinn.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, blushing. “Didn’t see you there.”

The guy continued on his way and Quinn sat at the front of the booth as if nothing had happened.

“Did everything go okay?” Hammer asked, cleaning down his equipment.

She whirled toward him. “Huh?”

“Your errand.” The scent of bleach stung his nostrils as he sprayed more onto the paper towels. “Did it go okay?”

“Oh. That. No, I couldn’t find, I mean, couldn’t do it right then.” She turned away from him without another word, tension tightening her shoulders. The tiny straps of the sundress she wore revealed that little black-and-gray leaf, which seemed even sadder now than before.

“Let me know if I can help you with it,” he said sincerely to her back. He was sure he hadn’t imagined her wince. “I’ll be here for whatever you need.”

She didn’t respond. He sighed and prepped his gun for the next client.

Her disappearances continued throughout the day. Every hour or so she’d wander off, leaving him to wonder what the hell she could be doing at a tattoo convention that was so important and upsetting to her. Each time she came back the worry lines in her forehead were deeper. By the time Hammer finished with his final client of the night, Quinn was almost shaking like a junkie.

He slammed the autoclave, causing her to jump. He’d had enough. “Listen, Sparky, I’m pulling you from the competition.”

“What?” Her voice was thin and outraged. “Why?”

“Because you’re obviously upset about something and I’ve got to presume it’s nerves because of that. I’m not going to put you through it, especially if that’s the reason you’ve been so on edge all day.” He reached for her, drawing her body close to his. “Listen, it’s fine. I’ve made some pretty good contacts with the appointments I’ve had. Word will get around. This competition won’t break me.”

“But it could make you.” She pulled back enough to look up at him from beneath her heavy bangs. “I’m not going to back out of something that could help your new shop get on the map. Not after everything you’ve done for me.”

“Nothing I’ve done for you was intended to be repaid,” he said, pushing the hair out of her left eye. “I did it because I wanted to.”

“And I’m doing this because I want to. So trust me. I’ll be fine.”

He bent low intending to kiss her but she stepped back, leaving his arms empty and cold. He closed both hands, feeling the knuckles go white.

“It’s up to you, Sparky.” He went back to his equipment.

“Listen, I’ve got to go…”

“Yeah, I know.” He waved without turning toward her again. “I’ll be here.”

When he faced the front of the booth, she was gone. Hammer slumped into the metal chair, holding his head in his hands. Things had been going so well. Why had she changed so quickly?

Quinn almost sprinted down the aisle, feeling like pond scum. Where the fuck had Guy been? She’d searched all over this fucking convention hall about seven times today and never caught sight of her target. She’d even combed the parking lots, searching for that stupid motorcycle. Nowhere to be found.

She hated the distance she’d put between her and Hammer but she was still sure it had been the right thing to do. She needed to be clearheaded when she skewered Guy for what he’d done to her. She had to stand up for herself because she’d finally realized she was worth a lot more than Guy thought. She intended to let him know that, standing alone as a strong independent woman who could make up her own mind and solve her own problems. Keeping Hammer out of it was the right thing to do. If only she could find Guy.

The convention had closed earlier than the night before and everyone wandered into the next ballroom for the tattoo competition and art auction. Quinn searched each face desperately for Guy’s but came up empty-handed every time. Frustration built within her until she wanted to fucking scream. She’d nerved herself up all day for nothing. She’d be completely useless until this was done.

The empty aisles suggested what a quick glimpse at her watch confirmed. She’d been away for forty-five minutes. Again. Hammer hadn’t said a word about her repeat disappearances, but each time she left she could see the fresh disappointment there. She longed to tell him but she wouldn’t. It wasn’t the right thing to do.

She finally arrived back at their booth. Hammer was in the chair she usually sat in, an ankle propped on his knee as he twirled his phone in little circles on the table. He glanced up at her, his smile tired and thin.

“Hey there, Sparky. You ready?”

She nodded. “Let’s go.”

She wished he’d palm the small of her back as they walked but with the way she’d pushed him aside all day she couldn’t blame him for keeping his hands to himself. Quinn took a deep breath as she entered the busy ballroom.

Contestants lined up beside the stage. Quinn started to go over but Hammer’s touch on her shoulder made her pause.

“You can still back out of this.” The weight of his hand would feel so wonderful if the weight of Guy weren’t still there.

Resisting the urge to sink back into Hammer, she forced a smile and stepped away. “No, I can’t.”

Quinn left Hammer and spoke to a girl with dreadlocks and piercings who stood by the stage, holding a clipboard. After checking in, she got her number and lined up with the rest of the contestants.

She was kind of grateful for the extra time she’d wasted searching for Guy. It meant she didn’t have as long to wait before the competition started. She wanted to get this over with so she could find Guy, get that part of her life done so she could move on with Hammer.

The heavy metal music that had been buzzing out of the speakers suddenly stopped and the conversation in the ballroom faded.

An older guy with a beer belly and a long braided beard grabbed the mic. “Welcome to the sixth annual Inktastic Convention and Tattoo Competition. We’ve got some interesting pieces to share with you tonight. But first I’ve got some announcements.”

Groans greeted this pronouncement. Quinn rolled her eyes, wishing he’d get the hell on with it.

After a ten-minute explanation of how sexual intercourse was not allowed in the bar, there was no smoking in any of the elevators and alcoholic beverages were not to be served to anyone underage, Beer Belly finally got on with it and introduced the first contestant.

When the guy made his way up to the stage, Quinn leaned over and examined the rest of the queue in front of her. She didn’t bother to stop her sigh. At least twenty-five people stood in front of her. She was last in line. Last to go in front of the judges. This was going to take forever.

Turning to the sea of bodies beside the line, she lazily scanned them for Hammer. She wanted him to be up front, close enough for her to watch him when the ink he’d given her won this contest. The layout of the room prevented her from finding him easily though.

It was a full half hour and twelve contestants later that she saw him.

And gasped.

Standing only a few feet from Hammer, wearing a bright-red tank top, was Guy Dionis.

Panic choked her and she gasped for air. Why was Guy here? He hadn’t been anywhere all day long and now he showed up when she was going to be parading the cover-up of his tattoo in front of hundreds of people? Why was fate so fucking cruel?

Her worries skewed her sense of time. She wasn’t even close to done fretting when Beer Belly said, “And now for our final contestant, Quinn LaBrea.”

She blinked. And blinked again.

The girl with the dreads and piercings shoved her onto the stage just as her fight-or-flight sense kicked in. The table in front of her held the four judges, all displaying varying degrees of curiosity and confusion. She was about to run away when Beer Belly started speaking again.

“Judges, you’ll be scoring at the phoenix tattoo on her right thigh. This is a cover-up piece, you can see the original in the provided photos there.”

Quinn slammed her lids closed.

“Come closer, Quinn. It’s okay, we don’t bite,” the judge on the end said, her septum ring shaking as she laughed.

It’s okay. This is for Hammer. Guy won’t make a scene in front of all these people
, she told herself as she smiled at the judges and lifted her hem to give them a better view of Hammer’s work. Pens scratched on paper as she rotated her leg right and left. Almost through now.

While Beer Belly spoke again, Quinn made plans for her escape.

“That was Quinn LaBrea, our final contestant, and the art is by Hamilton Dean of Tattoo Hammer, new shop to be located in Fell’s Point.”

An angry, familiar voice shouted up from the crowd, “That’s bullshit! I did that tattoo!”

All the blood left Quinn’s cheeks as she faced the confused crowd. Guy shoved his way through the throng toward the stage. She took a shaky breath and looked at Beer Belly for help.

“Who are you?” The emcee asked, his words as bewildered as she felt.

“I’m Guy Dionis. I did that tattoo. That’s my art and I’ll be damned if someone else gets credit for it.” Guy hopped up onto the stage like a heel wrestler gaining the ring.

Quinn took a step backward out of instinct. She opened her mouth to contradict Guy but Hammer’s clear bass voice cut through the crowd.

“That’s my art. This guy is full of shit.” He strode through the ballroom, making use of the aisle left by Guy’s entrance.

The judges muttered behind Quinn. She was afraid to look back, afraid to take her eyes off the scene unfolding in front of her.

“You are a liar and a cheat. That’s my ink.” Guy gestured to Quinn. “Quinny will tell you.”

Beer Belly turned to her. “Well?”

Quinn stared at Guy, all the hurt and rage frothing into a foam within her. Since the day he’d disappeared, she’d had to struggle. Since before then, even. He’d fuck up and she’d have to pick up the pieces. He’d take her for granted, push her into things she didn’t want to do, absorb her time, her money, her whole damn life. He had so much to answer for. So many things he’d done and said that it would take years for those wounds to heal.

But the biggest wound of all, the cruelest blow, was that she’d given him so much of herself. Shame closed her eyes on that thought but before she could recover and give the perfectly worded, skewering answer that would bring Guy Dionis to his knees, Hammer spoke up.

“I guess not answering means you’ve made your decision, Sparky.” His face creased with anger, disappointment, but the knife in her heart was the sorrow she found there. He walked away.

“No, Hammer, wait! That’s not what it was, please, come back!” She ran past the emcee and Guy to get to the stairs but Guy’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. She pulled but Guy wouldn’t let her go. “Hammer, please!”

He didn’t stop. The ballroom doors clicked shut after him.

Quinn stomped hard on Guy’s instep, wishing like hell she’d worn shoes other than flip-flops today. It worked and he released her.

She ran to the judge’s table. “Guy is full of shit. He did the crap that Hammer covered. This is Hammer’s work, not Guy’s. Guy was my boyfriend but now he’s just a bad mistake.”

“What did you say?” Guy sounded honestly shocked. Two of the judges tried to hide their reactions but the others raised their brows.

Quinn turned back to Guy. She didn’t give a shit that hundreds of people were watching this go down. She didn’t care that she’d planned to do this privately, at length, explaining everything in detail. She had to make a clean break and get her man before he was convinced she’d betrayed him.

“Guy, you’re an asshole. I want all my shit back and then I don’t ever want to see you again. Either you give me that bike, the tattoo equipment, all the other shit I financed for you and six weeks back rent, or I’ll sue your ass so hard you’ll be lucky to own a fucking paper clip.”

She started to storm past her stunned ex to run after Hammer, but he caught her arm in a cruel grip.

His eyes were cold as he growled, “You threatening me, Quinny? You can’t leave me if I don’t want you to.” His fingertips dug into her biceps so hard she cried out.

“Let
go
of me, you asshole. Hammer!”

The betrayal filling his mouth tasted bitter as chalk. Hammer slumped against the wall outside the auditorium, trying to get his shit together and go upstairs. But even the thought of getting away couldn’t distract him from the exquisite agony rocketing through his chest at Quinn’s treachery.