Page 9 of Ink

I rocked back on the backs of my heels, breathing heavily through my nostrils.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She was right.

Xiomara had told me she had done it right, but I’d ignored her. To be fair, her track record didn’t give me any sort of confidence that she knew how to do basic tasks. And the app had never failed me before, so how was I supposed to know that it hadn’t been her fault?

Fer whirled, glaring at me once again. “You fired her,humiliatedher, in front of clients.”

I had.

I wasn’t sure I regretted it. This was a business, after all, and she’d gone around nervously all week like a skittish mouse acting like I was going to step on her.

“Well, it is unfortunate.” I didn’t want to admit that I was wrong.

“Unfortunate,” Fer echoed with disbelief. “You know what?” She grabbed her phone, fingers flying across the screen. A moment later, my own cell beeped with a message. “I texted you her address. Go apologize and hire her back.”

Why do I have to do that?The words stuck in my throat.

Fuck.

I liked to run things smoothly. I liked everything to be fucking perfect. That included myself. Just the thought that I’d fucked up didn't sit right with me, but I also had to recognize that when things got messed up, I needed to fix them.

So I would.

But, fuck, Xiomara had stared at me like she wanted to stab me in the balls. She wouldn’t accept my apology.

Regardless, it was something I had to do.

I shut off my motorcycle, sitting back in the seat and staring up at the house I parked in front of. My brows furrowed and I pulled out my phone to double check that Fer had given me the right address.

Yup.

This was where Xiomara lived.

The house was… tiny. I wasn’t surprised; a lot of houses were, actually. It was nothing new. People worked with what they had.

With a sigh, I threw my leg over my bike and went up towards the house. There was no doorbell, so I rapped my knuckles in quick succession across the door.

I knew it was late, and I prayed she was awake. I could have waited to do this tomorrow, but I didn’t want to. My nerves wouldn’t let me wait so long.

I waited a minute.

Then two.

Then five…

Finally, the locks on the other side of the door clicked and the door swung open to reveal Xiomara herself.

She was in a government-issued free t-shirt, a green logo on the front of the tattered thing that let me know it was old and well-worn. She wore sleep shorts, leaving her long legs bare.

I was surprised to see very little ink on her skin, and for a second I itched for my tattoo gun so I could put something beautiful on her thighs.

I forced my gaze away from her legs to look up at her face. It was jarring to see her without the makeup I’d grown accustomed to in such a short time. She looked younger. More vulnerable.

Her glare was the same, though.

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