Page 58 of Twisted Violet

I can’t let Niko see it.

I shift out of bed carefully, sliding out from under his arm, while tugging the hem of my t-shirt down.

I grab my hoodie off the floor and slip it over my head.

“Don’t go.” Niko calls out.

I freeze and turn back to face him.

He’s sitting up now, hair tousled, eyes heavy with sleep.

“I just need a little air,” I lie.

His gaze drops to my hands, to the way they’re clenched around the bottom hem of my hoodie. He says nothing for a beat. Then,

“You’re worried I saw it… the tattoo.”

My breath catches.

Niko’s eyes hold mine for a long moment, unreadable, like he’s sifting through what to say next.

“I did,” he says finally.

I close my eyes, shame flooding in like a wave. “It’s not what you think.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

I look at him. “Then why did you tell me you saw it?”

He swings his legs off the bed and stands slowly, like he’s weighing every word.

“Because I know what it’s like,” he says. “To live with scars that someone else gave you. To have to look in the mirror and see the damage they left behind.”

Mythroat tightens.

“Do you want it gone?”

I stare at him, at the quiet in his expression, at the gentleness of his question.

I nod.

He throws on a sweatshirt and grabs his keys off the nightstand.

“Then let’s go.”

We don’t talk in the car.

He doesn’t ask what I want done or if I’m sure.

He just drives like he already has a plan.

One that was set in motion the second I said yes.

The tattoo shop is small,tucked between a Thai restaurant and a boutique bookstore. The windows are dark. The neon sign above the door is off, and the metal gate is drawn.

It’s closed.Obviously.

I shift on my feet and glance at him. “It’s okay. We can come back tomorrow.”