Page 78 of Take the Blame (Seaside Mergers #3)

“Oh.” I cleared my throat again, but it was still sticking.

To distract from it, I turned the machine on, lowering down to hover over his skin.

The look he gave me screamed ‘careful’ and I gave him a stern nod in return.

My mumble was infinitely less strong as I said, “You’ll feel a pinch and a scrape. ”

We allowed time for him to get used to the sensation of the tattoo machine’s needles.

Tense at first, it took the first few lines for him to begin to relax and a few more pulls of the outline for him to relax some more, finally falling into a state where he was at least comfortable enough to talk again.

“The meeting Alta stopped, it was the final deal. We were going to sign that day,” he said. “The contracts were actually on the table. But you know who picked them up?”

“She did,” I said, knowing where this was going.

“Alta, yes,” he said. “When she told your parents to go to the courts, no one but your parents knew what she was talking about. But my little sister, who has barely learned to stand up for herself, barged her way in and stood up to everyone in that room without a second thought. And she did it for you.”

Shit. I didn’t know that. Mom and Dad had left this interesting tidbit of information out and—God, I didn’t know.

“She knew nothing about the deal, nothing about the sale, nothing about you since you failed to disclose your identity,” he said. “The only thing she knew was that declaring something like that would devastate you. And she didn’t hesitate. She did something about it.”

Lifting the machine up, I took a long breath.

I wanted to be anywhere but right here. I wanted to be in front of her.

On my knees for her. I wanted to know I still had a chance with her.

Because I had been so stupid. So frightened, that I let my fear get in the way of what was standing in front of me this whole time.

My everything.

I’d realized it a while ago. When Clay called me out.

When she ran by the shop. Maybe even before I walked out of the Fernandez Office on the very same day we fought.

But I needed this time. Needed to talk to my mom and spend time with my dad.

Needed the trip back to Connecticut and the visit to Mar’s old bedroom.

Needed to understand that my feelings over the situation as a whole were different from my feelings toward her as a small part of it.

“Doing alright?” he asked.

I blew out a breath. “Yeah, sorry. You’re doing good. Halfway already.”

We settled back into his piece, and after a little while I said. “So, why are you here? Pissed your deal fell through?”

“I’m here for my sister, dumbass. Why else?” he said.

I slid him a look. “For your multi-billion dollar company and the multi-million dollar deal that I inadvertently fucked up.”

He scoffed, his eyes rolling in a way that made me sputter out a surprised laugh. He pinned me with a look.

“I don’t know you well, Gus. But my sister does, and I trust what she has to say about your character.

I assume because you spent so long talking to my wife at Thanksgiving, that you know a little about her background.

I also assume since you’re friends with Clay that you also know his side of it.

So you should know that I’m sympathetic toward your situation, truly. ”

I eyed him for a while, trying to gauge his face. The sincerity there was plain to see. Slowly, I grunted. “Thank you.”

“That aside… You are still a man presuming to want something from my sister. You told me you wanted everything with her, but I see you stepping up to nothing. I’m not going to fault you for your differences or your arguments or your hard times.

We all have those. And I understand you’re hurt.

But I’m an older brother first, and you’re hurting her. ”

I swallowed, my throat feeling tight again. God dammit. “She came to you? ”

“No,” he huffed. “She wants to stand on her own in this and you’re something she’s willing to stand tall to protect.”

I’ll take the blame this time, and you can take it out on me… I’m not leaving.

Yep, that sounded like her. So strong, so courageous, so mine. I so needed to get out of this fucking shop.

“Hey, Ox?” He didn’t correct me from using his nickname this time. Just flipped his sharp eyes up at me in question. “So I know you just bought the place out in your little guns blazing act and shit, but uh, can we finish this up later? Your outline’s done, I just—I need to go.”

He smiled. His head falling back against the headrest like he was relieved. “Sure.”

“Great! Good, okay,” I said, surprised he agreed so easily.

With an unfinished tattoo, I would definitely pay him back for this.

Speeding through the process of cleaning him up and wrapping him over, I patched his new ink and started fumbling into the processes of cleaning up my station as he got dressed.

By the time I was throwing away my last set of gloves on my final wipe down, he was fully dressed and leaning against the front counter, looking at me.

“Really appreciate it, man. If you want me to draw you something, I’ll do that too. Seriously.”

“Mhmm,” he said simply. “When should I come back?”

“Few weeks. Let the lines heal before I go back in to shade. Keep that wrap on for a day before you clean it and keep it moisturized,” I said as I continued to fumble through my shut down.

Patting my pockets, I think I had everything which brought my eyes back up to him in conjunction. He was still looking at me. Waiting.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Glad you asked.” Pushing off his perch he crossed the room toward me, his hand dipped into the inside of his coat as he neared. “This is for you. ”

Why did it feel like I was getting served?

“This” was a plain white envelope that had the words ‘ Mr. Harper’ written in familiar handwriting on the front. I felt my heart both soar and plummet simultaneously as I took in the ominous envelope.

I squinted up at him. “I thought you said she didn’t come to you.”

“She didn’t,” he said. “She came to this decision all on her own. I’m just the messenger.”

Messenger? Decision? Ripping open the envelope I flipped open the neatly folded paper and scanned the evenly printed words.

I read them again.

And one more time just to be sure of what the fuck I was reading.

Ablaze, I shot my eyes up at him in incredulity. “What the fuck is this?”

“I believe it’s a letter of resignation.” He looked at his watch in boredom. “Or so I was told.”

“I thought you said she?—”

He held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I only told you my own opinion. Everything she has to say is in that letter.”

I tore my eyes over the letter again. Letter of Resignation.

I’m not leaving. She had said.

I’ll always stay for you. She had promised.

Take it out on me. She had offered.

Fuck. I glared up at him, my next words coming out as a growl. “ Anything else ?”

“No, don’t think so.” His bottom lip poked out as he shook his head, seeming to search his brain and coming up with nothing.

But at the last moment his chin tilted, and I noticed the corner of his mouth slip up.

“Oh, actually. She also told me to tell you that she’s finally getting a tattoo.

She’s at her appointment now, someplace called Tore Tattoo? ”

For fuck’s sake.

Served indeed.