Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“It’s not Steel money. I have my own damned money, Cy.”
“All right, Ava. You don’t have to pay double, but you are going to have to choose which hip you want your tattoo on.”
I look down. I’m wearing baggy jeans. Which hip is more meaningful? Hell, I don’t know.
“I’m right-handed,” I say, “so let’s put it on my right hip.”
“Good enough.” He shuffles some papers. “I just need you to sign a few things.”
“Sign a few things?”
“Yeah. That you’re going to pay for the tattoo. You do know how much tattoos cost, don’t you?”
“Honestly, I don’t have a clue.”
“My tats start at five hundred,” he says.
I drop my jaw. “Dollars?”
“Five hundred potatoes, Ava.” He scoffs jovially. “Of course dollars.”
He’s trying to be funny, but I don’t see the humor. I’m putting all my savings into the remodel of the bakery, and I don’t have five hundred dollars lying around.
“Can I make payments?” I ask.
“I don’t have a payment plan,” Cyrus says, “but you can put it on a credit card and make your own payments.”
I pull out my Visa. “Sure, that’s what I’ll do.”
Cyrus smirks. “You’re something, Ava.”
“Why is that?”
“Because everyone knows you have a healthy trust fund. You could easily take five hundred dollars out. Hell, you could easily take five grand out, but you don’t do it.”
I shrug. “That’s not who I am.”
“I know that. You know what I’m going to do?”
“What’s that.”
“I’m going to give you a discount.”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to do that, Cy. I was just a little taken aback by the prices. I didn’t realize tattooing was so expensive.”
“It’s expensive if you want it done right,” he says. “And I do it right. You’ve seen my work.”
“Indeed I have.”
I’ve seen it on Brendan, and Cy’s work is phenomenal. Plus, of course, I’ve seen the pictures in his books. But none of them holds a candle to Brendan’s sea warrior.
“I don’t want any special treatment, Cy.”
“I know that,” he says. “Which is why I don’t have any trouble giving you a deal. Four hundred for the tattoo that you want, Ava.”
I shouldn’t take money out of Cy’s pocket. He’s a simple working man, trying to make a living in Snow Creek, and I have a ton of money at my disposal. Just because I choose not to use it is no reason for Cy to take a hit.
“I’m paying full price.” I set my credit card down. “I won’t hear another word about it.”
He chuckles. “Full price it is, then.”
He waves to Kiki and hands her my credit card. “Take a seat. You’re going to have to unbuckle your jeans and move them down about halfway, about where a low bikini would hit.”
My cheeks warm for a moment, but Cy goes about his business. He’s probably seen a lot more than just a client’s bikini line.
I follow his instructions, unbuttoning my jeans and moving them down to where he needs them, focusing on my right hip.
“I’ve got to warn you, Ava. This won’t be pleasant.”
“I can take it.”
The whir of his tattoo gun begins, and I close my eyes.
I don’t even jolt when the needle hits my skin.
The pain is good. Good in a strange way.
As if it’s what I deserve.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brendan
At first glance, Ava’s grandmother looks completely harmless. She’s an old woman. An old woman whose eyes are closed and who’s hooked up to a heart monitor and pulse ox machine.
A nurse in light-blue scrubs sits with her.
“How is she, Jemima?” Ryan asks.
“She’s fine, Mr. Steel. No changes.” She glances at me.
“I’m Brendan.”
“Brendan is Ava’s friend,” Ryan says. “He wants to talk to Wendy.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that Ryan refers to her as Wendy and not as his mother.
“I’ll give you some privacy.” Jemima rises and leaves the room. “Oh, by the way, Dr. Parks has a family event tonight, but she’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
Ryan nods. “Very well, then.”
The nurse leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
“Can she hear me?”
“She hears what she wants to hear.”
Wendy’s eyelids flutter then.
I see what he means.
“Wendy,” Ryan says, “Brendan Murphy is here. He’s Ava’s…friend.”
Ryan hesitates a bit. Has Ava told him we had an argument? I don’t know. I’ll work things out with Ava later. For now, I need to find out what this woman knows about my great-uncle.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Madigan,” I say.
No response, but she still flutters her eyes.
“Wendy,” Ryan says, “Brendan’s here to talk about your grandson, Jack. Apparently they’re cousins.”
Wendy smiles then, and her eyes flutter open. “So you found out my secret.”
“Not really,” I say. “It’s nice to meet you, though.”
She looks at me, her eyes moving without her head moving. “You look a lot like your father. But you’re a dead ringer for your great-uncle.”
“Am I?”
I know the truth of her words. I’ve seen pictures of Sean Murphy. I’m older now than he was when he died, but I do look quite a bit like him, except he wore his hair short, of course.