Beneath These Chains (Page 49)

“It’s gonna look awesome. Good choice.” Her beaming smile made me doubly glad I’d brought her here tonight.

Elle had explained that the quote dripping like sand through the hourglass was from Macbeth: “Come what come may; Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.”

Elle lay sideways on the flattened tattoo chair and sucked in a deep breath and released it. Then she asked the question I’d been waiting for.

“So … how much is this going to hurt?”

I pulled a folding chair up next to her, lowered myself into it, and grabbed her hand. She squeezed—hard.

“You’ll be fine. You can crush my hand if you need to.”

Delilah prepared her station and the tattoo machine, and I studied the design closer. It would be all black and gray and was going to look sweet as fuck, really. And the sentiment behind it made it that much better.

It didn’t take a genius to see that Elle’s grief over losing her father still hovered close to the surface even after all these years. Her desperation to find the watch was just the first piece of it, and I was determined to help. Unfortunately, my contacts hadn’t turned up anything promising yet.

But still, what would she do once the watch was found? Would she quit and go find another job doing something equally as random as working at Chains? It bothered the fuck out of me that I wouldn’t be able to keep her close if she did—not just because I loved having her within reach, but because I still wasn’t convinced that Rix was going to lose his interest in her, and I had no idea who had killed Bree and Jiminy. Elle was probably right about Rix—he wasn’t a threat to her physical safety, but he was a threat to my mental health. But what did I expect? A woman as gorgeous as Elle was always going to attract attention. Until Hennessy closed the case on Bree and Jiminy, though, I wasn’t going to sleep easy.

“Okay,” Delilah said, tattoo machine in hand. “You ready?”

I squeezed Elle’s fingers, and she squeezed back, meeting my eyes with a smile.

“I’m ready,” she said.

She handled it like a champ. My fingers might never function normally again, but Elle made it through like a champ.

My chest tightened at the tears swimming in her eyes when she looked at the tat in the mirror. Then she gutted me when she trailed a finger around the edges of the newly inked lines and said, “I miss you, Daddy.”

I pulled her closer and caught the tears on my thumbs.

I was gone for this woman.

Abso-fucking-lutely gone.

Done.

She was mine.

I’d find that goddamned watch if it was the last thing I did. It was my promise to her and to myself. And then I’d find a way to keep her.

I was a little worried about how comfortable I was getting staying at Lord’s every night. After the tattoo expo, we’d gone to my place in the Quarter, and I’d grabbed some more clothes before we’d ventured back to his side of town. My closet was getting empty, and Lord and I needed to talk about how long I’d really be staying. My concerns about Rix had abated, although there’d been no update from Hennessy on the murder investigation. I knew I needed to reclaim my independence and set some boundaries though. Lord and I were moving so fast toward … I wasn’t even sure what we were heading toward. Something big and scary … but kind of awesome at the same time.

And today, we were back to our normal routine. Because strangely, we had developed a normal routine.

I was once again cleaning the glass cases—I wanted to de-finger every person who came in the shop and touched them. It was a vicious cycle. I wanted people to look at all the gorgeous and sparkly things in the cases and buy them all, but, seriously? Did they have to touch every inch of the glass in order to do that?

I laughed to myself that smudges were one of the biggest issues overtaking my life. I put some more elbow grease into the circles with my coffee filter as Lord and Mathieu sorted through a stack of albums that someone had brought in. Listening to their debate about which to make offers on and which to pass up kept me smiling. The collection was enormous, and they’d been at it for hours.

After they’d finished sorting, making selections, and cutting a deal, Lord’s phone buzzed.

“Who is it?”

“Hennessy,” he replied before answering.

Thoughts of the unsolved murders battered me. A call from the detective couldn’t be good.

I only heard Lord’s side of the conversation: “Another?”

A sigh. “Good.”

A pause. “You need me right now? This can’t wait? Fine. Okay. Do I need my lawyer?”

My stomach sank and twisted with that question.

Lord ended the call with an abrupt, “Be there in fifteen.”

After he pocketed his phone, he turned to me. “Want me to take you back to your place? You can have the rest of the day off.”

“What? Why? What did he say? Was there another…?”

“No, nothing like that. He’s got questions for me that can’t wait. Something else came up about Bree, and he’s too tied up to bring his ass down here to talk. But I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“I’m fine. I’m not even alone. Mathieu and I can hold down the fort. If Rix or anyone else comes in and gives me shit, I’ll pull out the shotgun under the counter. It’s not a big deal.”

Lord’s growl was … downright adorable. “Not a big deal … right.”

“We’ve gone round and round on this, and there’s no point in doing it again. It’s okay. Nothing is going to happen to me here.” Lord’s warring indecision was written all over his face. “Just go,” I told him.