Page 28 of Rox

“You can’t ride bitch with me anymore, and I promised you we would get your back piece started. You won’t be in any condition to drive after.”

I scoff, “It’s a tattoo, not drugs. I’m not going to become an invalid because of it. Or do you offer this taxi service to all of your clients?”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“Me? Noooo.”

“Just get in so I can take you for a drink afterward.” I give him a sideways glance as I hop into the truck. “For you, not me.”

“How about, because I don’t need alcohol and neither do you, and it thins blood, you take me to Mary’s Diner and feed me instead?”

“As long as I take you out after because it’s been a while since we hung out.”

“Two hours,” I cough into my hand.

He ignores me and continues, “You and I both know you’re gonna fall asleep on the table like a psychopath.”

* * *

My pain tolerance is high, but at times, it all hurt like a bitch. Outlining isn’t my favorite. Everyone’s preferences are different, and I’m a shading fan.

Angel tried to offer to buy me a drink again, but I stuck to my guns. Mary’s Diner is old and looks run down, but it has the best food you’ll ever eat outside of home. Mary’s great-granddaughter runs the place and continues to cook the way Mary did. I’m obsessed with it.

I eat my breakfast platter while he devours his burrito. Every once in a while, it gets a little awkward, but right now, the silence works. We’re sitting in the back of the diner, allowing him to watch everyone who comes and goes.

“What’s new since the last time I saw you?”

“Again, it was two hours ago,” I laugh.

He shrugs as he reminds me how sometimes all it takes is twenty minutes in our lives for something insane to happen.

“Fair point.” I give him a soft smile and toy with the lock on my necklace. “But in this case, nothing has changed since I saw you. I really did decide it was time to fix things with Dad. You coming and starting the process set off the chain reaction for me, ya know?” I tell him, watching as he eyes my fingers toying with the lock more. He seems locked in on my necklace, like he might know what it means.

“Did you buy that necklace?” He asks.

“Uhm, no it was gift. Why? You don’t like it? I am still getting used to it. But I love it, and I think it fits the punk-rock pixie look I have going on. Don’t you think?” I preen, trying to get him to look at my face, not the necklace.

Before he can answer, his eyes cut to the movement behind me. I know who it is. I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s Max walking up behind me. I’d let him know when Angel finished my session and that we were headed to food. I wasn’t sure if he’d show up, but I hoped he would.

I haven’t said the words out loud, but I’m positive Angel knows exactly what’s going on between the two of us. So, while I don’t need to turn around to know it’s Max, I still do.

He seems hesitant but doesn’t slow his stride. His eyes drop to my hand on my necklace, and he responds by bringing his hand up to where the key rests under his shirt.

I hear his chair before I see him out of the corner of my eye. Angel marches right up to Max, and before I can react, he clocks Max across the chin. I shoot up from my chair and notice everyone is keeping their heads down, unwilling to get between the members of NOMC.

“Really, you two? I thought we were over all this crap?”

“Now we are,” Angel says, shaking out his hand and walking out of the diner.

“What the fuck, Max?” I whisper.

“He knows, Rox,” he tells me as he kisses the top of my head, “and he doesn’t like it.”

“He has no say in me being with you.”

“Not about us, baby. He knows what the necklace means, and he doesn’t like it.”

I turn toward him, anger behind my eyes, “My comment still stands. He has no fucking say.”

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