There had been a few times during the past couple of years that Trixie, Bronx, and I had all gone out for drinks at the local bars. I cherished those few memories as I watched her out in public, not as her employer, but as her friend. She was a beam of bright light slicing through the darkness. She laughed, overflowing with joy. And then there were times when she watched you with such intensity you could almost be convinced you were the only person left on the planet. I could feel the compassion that flowed from her heart and it caused an ache in my own chest. She made the world a wonderful place even in the grimmest moments.
But I couldn’t have her.
Clenching my teeth, I flipped on the overhead light, jerking her instantly awake so that I could finally escape her hold. While she was looking at me with a slightly confused and dazed expression, I was able to focus on the bigger question at hand: why was she sleeping in the tattoo parlor when she kept a comfortable apartment just a few miles away? It was time to pack away my sexual urges and simple desires for something else, because it was obvious that Trixie needed a friend.
“In a little early, aren’t you?” I asked with a smile as I tried to break the building tension.
A little smile tweaked the corners of her mouth, but never grew into anything more as she sat up fully and swung her legs around so that her feet touched the floor. She still looked exhausted, and she was having trouble meeting my direct gaze. I had a feeling that she hadn’t been asleep for long when I’d found her. Usually, she worked later into the night than I did and then probably didn’t settle into sleep until shortly before dawn each night. Of course, there was also the problem that had chased her out of her apartment in the first place.
“I thought you could use the help,” she volunteered, but there was a slight waver to her voice.
“Yeah, tell me another one.”
“I know this doesn’t look good. I just needed a place to crash and I didn’t have anywhere else to go …”
“That was safe,” I finished.
Trixie stared down at her fingers, entwined in her lap. “Yes.”
“What happened?”
She hesitated for a long time as she was probably debating telling me the truth or a somewhat believable lie. I frowned and shook my head at her. It was none of my business and I wasn’t going to force her into telling me something she didn’t want to talk about. I also didn’t get a feeling of urgency, which meant that explanations could wait for another time.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my keys, jingling them softly in my hand. “Let’s go. I’ve got a place where you can catch a few more hours of sleep before you’re needed here.”
I walked through the main tattoo area to the back room, listening to her grab her bag from the counter before she followed me, her heels clomping across the old hardwood floor. I unlocked the back door and turned toward a set of old, rickety wooden stairs that led to the second-floor apartment.
“You rent the apartment as well?” Her voice drifted to me as I paused at the door to unlock it.
“I own the entire building,” I admitted as I opened the door with a hard shove. I held it open, allowing her to follow me in. Glancing over my shoulder at her, I blinked twice at the sight of her. She was outside the parlor and her glamour had kicked back in. Gone was the luscious blonde with the high cheekbones and sparkling green eyes. She was now a brunette with deep chocolate brown eyes and a heart-shaped face. Trixie was still a beautiful woman in her cloak of glamour, but I had become accustomed to seeing through it to her true beauty. I pushed the disappointment away and focused on the tiny apartment.
The air in the room was heavy from the heat, and musty. It had been at least six months since I’d last crashed here and that was only because I had spent a late night out drinking at the bars within walking distance of the parlor. It had just been easier to sleep it off here instead of attempting to trek back to my apartment.
Closing the door behind her, I led her through the small apartment, past the couch with the stained cushions, sunk from too much wear, through to the tiny kitchen that barely allowed two people to stand in there at the same time. We turned down the hallway as I pointed out the bathroom and the one bedroom. A mattress and box spring lay on the floor, holding a couple of blankets and a pair of flat pillows. Thick curtains blocked out the light from the window, but a slight part between the two panels allowed a shaft of light to cut through the room. Dust particles danced in the light as it fell across the bed.
“Believe it or not, this place is actually pretty clean,” I said, shoving one hand anxiously through my hair. “I come up here every few months and air the place out, clean the blankets and anything that’s been used recently. I haven’t actually lived up here for a couple of years, but it’s always been a nice fallback place when I can’t make it home.”
“I didn’t know,” she murmured. “Have you ever …?”
“I’ve never done any of my tattoo deals up here. This is just a place for me to crash,” I quickly said. “Hell, it doesn’t even have a TV.”
“I really appreciate this, Gage. I just need a couple of days to get this worked out and then I’ll be back at my own apartment, or at the very least a new one,” she said. “I’ll even pay you rent if you want.”
I waved off the offer. “I don’t ever use this except on the rare occasion. There’s no reason for that nonsense. Just try to keep it somewhat clean and we’re good.”
“Not a problem.”
“When are you going to tell me what the real problem is?”
“It’s nothing. It’s just best if I don’t go back to my apartment for a little while,” she replied, trying to make it sound as if it wasn’t anything important.
“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
“I can handle it. It’s nothing.”
“Well, it’s going to be something when this problem appears on the doorstep of the parlor. I’m going to need to know then,” I warned her as I started to leave the bedroom.
Trixie crossed her arms under her full breasts and leaned back on one foot as she eyed me. “Does that mean you’ll finally get around to telling me why TAPSS is so worried about you catching the attention of someone dangerous? That’s turned up on the parlor doorstep on more than one occasion.”
“It’s something I’ve got under control.”
“And I don’t?”
“A person has to wonder when you’re sleeping at the parlor after-hours. I’m not the one on the run.”
Trixie allowed her arms to drop limply to her sides as she took a couple of steps closer to me. In heels she was nearly taller than me. She dropped her head so that her lips almost brushed against my cheek when she spoke. “Well, then, I guess we both have our fair share of secrets that we’re not willing to share.”
“Someday I think both of us are going to come clean, but I guess today isn’t going to be that day,” I said, as my throat threatened to close up on me while the blood rushed from my head to my pants.
“Thank you for your help, Gage. You’re one of the only friends in this world I’ve got who I can turn to,” she whispered, her warm breath dancing past my ear.
“I find that hard to believe,” I choked out. “You’re a beautiful, energetic, sweet woman. How could you not have other friends who would have your back?”
“That’s just it. I’m only a beautiful woman to them. They don’t care about me. But you do, don’t you? You care.”
A soft sigh escaped me before I could catch it. I lifted my right hand and let my fingertips slip down her cheek, caressing from the line of her jaw to her stubborn chin. She looked different, but I knew I was standing before my Trixie. There was just something in her eyes, the tilt of her full mouth, that reminded me of the woman I had come to know over the past two years. No, I didn’t know her secrets, but I felt like I knew her soul. She was kind and compassionate. She worried about others before herself. She drew a laugh out of Bronx and me when our moods were sour. She eased fears, wiped tears, and laughed freely.
