Page 32 of Savage Hate
“You’re so quick to point fingers, Lennon.” I go to respond, but he places a hand on my mouth. All I can taste is salt, and his callouses from the tattoo gun are rough on my morning-chapped lips. “Think back to that night,” he says gently. I make a sound against his hand, but he holds it against me firmer, backing me up against the glass door. “You know which night I’m talking about. We were trying to help you. We were always trying to help you. But like a shelter dog, you just wanted to bite us.” He removes his hand and then his sunglasses, pocketing them before pulling his lower lip into his mouth. His eyebrows furrow slightly as he cocks his head. “Maybe I did want a little bit of revenge with the tattoo.” He smirks, glancing down at the sliver of exposed skin again. “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I just wanted you to think of us whenever you see it. Think ofme.”
I open and close my mouth, but he’s rendered me speechless.
“The tattoo,” he interrupts, brushing the back of his hand against my jawline, “is a reminder for you. Not for us. For you.” His gaze glides down to my feet, then back up, and he touches my fresh ink again, making my nipples peak beneath my shirt. “That maybe all along, we were the good guys. That maybe you fit in here–at Savage. With us.” I open my mouth to moan, but he places his hand gently on my lips again. “Don’t make the sound I think you were just about to make,” he says gruffly. “It’d be an invitation to keep touching you, and I have a lot of things to do today.”
My body sparks with fire, and when he drops his hand, I take a step back.
“Well, I guess, thank you for not tattooing ‘whore’ on my cheek,” I joke, trying to dispel the uneasiness coursing through me with his kind words.
He smiles, and his dark, contemplative gaze teases me. “I won’t go easy on you next time.”
I bite the inside of my cheek as I look down. “Next time?”
He smirks. “There’s always a next time when it comes to getting a tattoo.”
I tamp my smile down. “Okay, well, see you tonight.”
“We’re closed tonight.”
I rear my head back. “Closed? I didn’t realize the shop was closed on Sundays.”
He rubs his mouth. “We’re having a party later. You should come.”
I narrow my eyes, scanning his face for any insincerity. A small part of me thinks this whole thing–him being nice–is a prank.
“A party? Where?” I uncross my arms, and Silas’s eyes take that as an invitation to glance over my chest once again.
His tongue rolls around the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head. “My house.”
I stand a bit straighter. “The house you grew up in?”
He smirks. “I never did get to show you the chapel in high school.”
An eerie chill works down my spine at his words. “Yeah, well, we weren’t exactly friends in high school,” I retort.
He nods and looks down, a smile tugging at his lips. Is he…flirting?
“You made damn well sure we weren’t, Lennon Rose.” As he looks up, his light blue eyes bore into mine. He reaches into his pocket and hands me a wad of cash. “I forgot to pay you last night. We should probably set up a direct deposit for you. I fucking hate handling cash.”
And then he walks away, and I look down at the money.
“Silas, this is five hundred dollars,” I say, my tone higher in pitch than I intended. I tally up the money he’s already given me. “You’re overpaying me.”
He doesn’t say anything as he begins to clean up the beer bottles and mess from last night. I look down at the money and take three hundred out, placing it on the table.
“I wouldn’t do that,” he warns from right behind me, making me jump. “Take the damn money, Lennon.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s too much–”
“I’m trying to give you a way out of that apartment.” His voice is hoarse. “I know you want to break ties with your mom. Let us help you.”
First the garbage can, then the graduation party…
We were trying to help you.
We were always trying to help you.
But like a shelter dog, you just wanted to bite us.
