Page 212 of Hide and Keep

I give Crue a halfhearted smile before looking down. The artist is on the bottom of the hindwings and abdomen, not too far into the design that should take hours to complete.

“Is there a restroom I can use?” I ask during one of the brief pauses.

The artist jerks his head toward the back of the shop. “Second door on the left.”

“I’ll come with.”

Crue starts to lean forward, but I rush to tell him, “I don’t need you to.”

“I know,” he shoots back, sounding slightly offended.

He notices the artist looking between us.

“I know. I just—”

“Is anybody else here?” I ask the artist.

“Nope. Just us. This is the last appointment of the day.”

“See, Major? It’s fine. I’ll only take a minute.”

The muscle in his jaw twitches. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I smile brightly. Silly bodyguard, what’s the worst that can happen? I fall in the toilet?

His eyebrows draw closer and closer as he lowers his voice for what’s probably supposed to be only for me but the tattoo artist listening intently can clearly still hear. “You need anything?”

I don’t know if he’s referring to what we discussed in the car or if he’s just asking in general, but since the only thing I could go for is a pantyliner, which I’m assuming Crue didn’t magically acquire in the last hour, I shake my head, and tell him, “I’ll be right back.”

In the dimly lit hall, I breeze past both doors on the left, heading straight for the one with the EXIT sign above it. The cool air that greets me on the other side of it is a welcome relief.

Yasmin didn’t care enough about Crue to help him but I do.

Music so loud I can feel it rattle my bones masks my own heartbeat. It almost,almostdrowns out that countdown, too…but not completely.

Ticktock. Ticktock.

The lips at my throat close, making me moan in approval.

That’s what he’s here for. To help me forget it. To help me forget…everything.

Unfortunately, it’s harder than I thought it’d be. Much harder than it usually is. A few hours into this reprieve, I still can’t get my brain to turn off.

Maybe because these lips pale in comparison to the ones I really want.

No. I’m not thinking about Crue. I’m done with that. Done with him.

Beads of sweat roll down my temples as I tilt my head back, resting it on the shoulder of the guy behind me and givinghim better access. Like a pup nursing, he latches on vigorously, suckling the thin skin.

Our bodies sway together, his hard dick digging into my back as his hands roam my front.

I don’t know him. He doesn’t know me. Nobody here seems to. This is the closest I’ve come to feeling complete freedom since Hide and Keep.

I spread my arms out, then up, wishing I had my wings again, wishing I had wings, period. It’s not enough to be airborne momentarily. I want to fly forever.

Across the club, I spot a black hat exactly like the one my—

I said I was done with him.

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