Page 20 of Triple Trouble

“Nothing,” Adrian said. “Get some sleep — you’ve had a massive day.”

The guys left me in the bedroom and when I stayed still, I could hear their voices murmuring in the living room. I desperately wanted to know what they were saying, but I knew that if they heard me open my door, they’d stop talking.

I could either go out there and demand they tell me what was going on, or I could trust them. And now that I’d showered and could see the bed made up, the pillows looking soft and inviting, I was too exhausted to care anymore.

I was safe, and that was all that mattered.

At least I have clothes, I thought, as I unpacked everything out of my bag. I was almost done when I heard a knock on my door. I opened it, and there was Xavier, no longer wearing his outfit from the day. Instead of his branded t-shirt and jeans, he wore nothing but pajama pants. His tattoo-covered rippling abs surprised me, and I blinked as I stared.

“We’re gonna order a pizza and watch a movie,” he said. “Do you want one? We order them from a place down the road that piles the toppings so high it’s like you get three pizzas for the price of one.”

I smiled and yawned. My fear had made my metabolism burn through the spaghetti bolognaise, and I was hungry, but far too tired to eat.

“No thanks. I just need some sleep.”

I climbed into bed. It was nice knowing that no matter what Nathan did, he’d never be able to get into this apartment.

The sound of the traffic was distracting for a few minutes, but its steady hum soon faded into the background, and within a few moments, I was fast asleep.

11

EMMA

Iwoke up not knowing where I was for a moment. I sat up, expecting to be in Cora’s house, and felt a jolt of fear when I saw that my moving boxes weren’t stacked in the corner. But then the memories came flooding back, and I remembered where I was.

That’s right… the tattoo studio.

The air was chilly, so I pulled on a robe and wandered down the hallway, where the smell of French toast was wafting from the kitchen.

“Morning,” Adrian said cheerfully when he saw me. He was at the stove with a spatula in his hand. At the table, Xavier and Jackson were eating toast and drinking coffee. All three were shirtless, wearing pyjama pants and nothing else, despite the chill in the air.

Tattoos covered their entire upper bodies. Even at a glance, I noticed the huge dragon on Adrian’s back, the bright Americana tattoos on Xavier’s chest and the black-and-white collage of hyperreal images on Jackson.

And beneath the ink, all three of them had defined physiques that were almost impossible not to stare at.

I didn’t want to be rude, so I looked at my feet, instead.

“Take a seat,” Jackson said, and used his foot to push one of the spare chairs out from under the table. “Would you like some breakfast?”

My stomach growled before I could answer.

“Okay,” I said, not wanting to eat all their food, but not wishing to starve, either.

Adrian already had a plate ready, and he slid a piece of toast on there and passed it to me.

“Coffee?” he asked. “We’ve also got milk and orange juice, if that’s more your speed.”

“Except Jackson drinks the juice out of the carton,” Xavier said. “So you might want to avoid it.”

“Coffee is fine,” I said, accepting a steaming cup from Adrian before I sat down.

The French Toast was delicious, and the coffee was exactly what I needed to perk up. As the exhaustion left my body, I listened to the guys as they talked shop.

“We’re back-to-back today,” Xavier said, as he turned the pages of a newspaper that sat in front of him. The headline was CORRUPTION IN THE RANKS, all in bold uppercase, along with color photographs of a few somber-looking people walking outside a courthouse. “No time for walk-ins — we’re gonna be swamped.”

Adrian joined us, his own plate of French toast steaming in front of him.

“Good,” he said. “Walk-ins are my least favorite. Spur-of-the-moment tattoos are never a good idea, and they always try to get out of paying.”

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