Page 93 of Word to the Wise

I glance down at my leg when he says that. My jeans are cropped, showing off the bottom half of my calves, and I can still see the remnants of the tree he drew on my leg. The roots that reach down to my foot. I wish they were capable of grounding me.

“Where are you thinking of moving to?”

“Somewhere not too far from the shop.” His gaze follows mine to my leg. “But maybe a halfway decent neighborhood.”

“I can’t figure out why they insist on keeping Twisted Roses in that location. Echo said there was a mugging next door just last week.”

It made sense when the Twisted Kings ran it. It was a front for laundering dirty club money. But now they’re a legit tattoo parlor with a reputation for inking celebrities, so it doesn’t make sense that they still operate out of one of LA’s most dangerous neighborhoods.

“Sage said they’ve been considering relocating the shop actually.”

“They have?” And why don’t I know that?

I’ve been so disconnected in San Francisco that even if I talk to Sage and Lyla regularly, I haven’t been listening.

“Yeah, they’ve been scoping out some new locations. Nothing is final yet. I’ll probably wait to buy until I know where we’re going.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

The question is—where am I going?

Back to San Francisco?

The thought has my skin crawling.

That city stopped being home the moment I stepped foot outside of it. And even if I know I always have a home at the Twisted Kings compound, I’m going to have to put down my own roots at some point.

It’s the final ties I need to cut to break free from Carter. If I’m not going back, I need to rebuild my own life.

Mason rubs my leg. “Nothing’s happening anytime soon.”

I swear he reads my mind sometimes. He senses the worry I’m failing to bury.

“I know.” Still, it does nothing to settle my nerves. “It’s just a wild thought. My brother is married. Lyla is pregnant. The shop is moving. Everyone’s taking next steps.”

“You feel like you aren’t.” It’s not a question because he reads me so easily. “You’re only twenty-six, Reed. You’re allowed to still be figuring it out.”

“I’m not used to being the one figuring it out when I thought I’d already done that.”

At eighteen, I had planned the rest of my life. I knew exactly how it was going to go. Now, it’s all murky and none of it makes sense.

“Well, I’m here if you need anything.”

The smile that beams out of him breaks my heart a little. It’s so big and genuine, I believe it.

“Thank you, Mason.” I place my hand over his. “For everything.”

“Nothing to thank me for, Sticks. Happy to do it.”

But as we sit in silence, heading back to reality, there’s a lingering tension of who we are and who we aren’t.

What we want and what we’re running from.

Mason’s scars aren’t unlike mine. They’re the catalyst in us trusting each other, while also what holds us back from trusting ourselves.

As we roll to a stop outside Twisted Roses, and I look up at the sign, something about it feels like a warning. Just like Mason, I’ve been running for a long time now. It might finally be time to stop.

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