Hate You: Chapter 20

I feel like a fucking pussy but the moment I lifted my hand and found his dog tag was missing. I felt like I’d lost a part of me. It’s been there since the day his parents handed it to me at his funeral. I never take it off, so why I did last night fuck only knows. I do everything with it on, usually including fucking women. I know he’s gone, he has been for quite a while now, but with it there, it makes me feel like he’s still a part of this. I wouldn’t be where I am now if it weren’t for him, I know that for a fact.

Something settles inside me the second I wrap my fingers around the cold metal. I slip the chain over my head and drop the tag into my shirt. I almost feel as naked without it as I would if someone were to erase my tattoos.

I’m just sitting down to go through some emails when there’s a knock at my door.

“What?” I bark.

I’d spent all morning convincing myself that last night wasn’t as mind-blowing as I remembered it to be. I told myself it was the alcohol and the fact I’d managed to bag the girl who hated me. The prize at the end of the chase. But seeing her again just now after I warned her not to come back, fuck. She took my fucking breath away.

She was standing there in her tight as fuck jeans and an oversized jumper that hid everything she has going on beneath. My cock swelled the second I saw her, and it fucking pissed me off. She was meant to be out of my system. I’d fucked her. That was meant to be it. So why was I craving another taste of her sweet pussy more than I wanted the coffee she’d forgone bringing me while handing the others theirs?

The door cracks open and her pink hair fills the gap. “Your first client’s here. Try to be nice. She’s really nervous.”

“I’m always nice.”

An insincere laugh falls from her lips as she turns back. I jump from my seat and follow her just in time to watch her arse sway as she makes her way back to her desk. Fuck, that arse. I bite down in the inside of my cheek as I remember how it felt to sink into her from behind last night. How rosy her cheek was after I slapped my palm across it.

“Zach? Zach?” My name being repeated eventually drags me from my thoughts and I look up to find Tabitha staring at me with a frown on her face and a young girl who looks like she’s about to puke on my shoes.

“You old enough to be here, kid?”

“Uh…” She hesitates. I’m seconds from sending her back to the playground she came from when Tabitha pipes up that she’s seen ID and everything’s good.

I nod at Tabitha and take the girl’s form when she hands it to me. I quickly scan it before taking in her name.

“Right then, Kassie. You ready for this?” She gives me a nervous smile but collects her jacket and bag and follows me down to my room.

“You look too well inked to be nervous,” I say when I spot her hand shaking when she lowers her bag to a chair I have in the corner of my room.

“I’m… always like it. Needles,” she adds with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Glutton for punishment, eh?”

“Something like that.”

“Come and take a seat and we’ll go through what it is you looking for.”

“I’ve got a drawing.”

“Okay.” She pulls a piece of paper from her bag and hands it over. Before me are two beautifully sketched angel wings. “Wow, this is incredible. You draw it?”

She nods shyly.

“Don’t be shy about this. You’re really talented.” She beams at my praise, and for the first time today I actually feel good about myself. “So where’s it going?”

“On my back. Shoulder blades.”

“Okay, well top off and lie on your front. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

She immediately does as she’s told and doesn’t bat an eyelid like I’m sure most girls would at removing their top in front of a stranger. She lies down and moves her long, dark hair out of the way.

“So who did all these others, seeing as it’s your first time here?”

“Loads of people. Some more talented than others.” I glance down her arms and see that she’s right. Some could do with a little work to tidy them up.

“Are you at art school or something?” I ask when the silence stretches out for a little too long once I’ve set to work.

“Or something,” she mutters. “I’m just doing some bar work right now.”

“Do you want to do more with your art?”

“Maybe. I’ve never really had the opportunity to think about it, let alone do anything about it.”

“That’s a shame. You don’t want to waste a talent like that.”

She falls silent once again, lost in her own thoughts, and I allow it as I focus on my own art.

I complete the outlines but come to a stop. Her skin is raw. It’s never going to cope with me doing all the shading. “I think we need to call it a day for now. Can you book in for a few weeks’ time? This needs to heal before I do any more to it.”

“Sure. Can I see?”

“Of course.” She gets up and stands in front of my mirror while I hold another up for her to see her back. Her breath catches at the sight.

“Happy?”

“Incredibly. You’ve done an amazing job.”

“It’s not finished yet.”

She continues to stare at it in the mirror, totally enthralled by it.

“Is it for anyone special?” She lifts her eyes to mine and they hold for a few seconds. There’s something within hers that I can’t read, but for some fucked-up reason I feel like I should be able to.

Eventually, she shakes her head. I’m not sure if it’s a no to answer my question or if she just doesn’t want to talk about it.

“T-thank you so much,” she says eventually, reaching for her top.

“Wait. I need to wrap it.”

“Oh, of course. Sorry.”

I quickly finish her off and allow her the escape she’s quite obviously desperate for the second I’ve finished.

I follow her out of my room and to reception where she books her next appointment with Tabitha before almost running from the studio.

“What did you do? I thought she’d come out looking less scared, but if anything she was even more terrified.”

“Me? I only did what she asked.”

“What was that?”

“Some angel wings on her back. I think she’s lost someone. Maybe it was a little emotional seeing it or something.”

“Whoa, so you do have a little compassion in there somewhere.”

“And to think we almost had some kind of a normal conversation there for a minute.” She smirks at me. “I’m starving. Get me some lunch. And none of that vegan shit you tried palming me off with last time. I want meat, and plenty of it.”

“Didn’t think you played on that side of the field,” she deadpans.

“Fuck off, Tabby Cat. You know full well which way I swing.”

I don’t realise that as I’m saying it Titch emerges with his client. Thankfully, the client is totally oblivious to what’s going on, but Titch is anything but. He grins like a Cheshire fucking cat, and as he passes me he whispers, “You tapped that?”

Growling, I turn my back on all of them and shut myself back in my room. Fuck knows why I thought it was a good idea to come out here in the first place.