‹ Prequel: Blood, Sweat & Ink
Sequel: No Ordinary Love ›
The Real Housewives of Ink
Chapter Six
Lydia sighed and rubbed her back painfully. Finally, the remodeling was done for the new tattoo shop. She and Kyle had been up since the crack of dawn getting the finishing touches down, but had coaxed her fiancee into leaving around eight, noticing he was starting to fall asleep. Kyle had been worried about leaving her all alone, but Lydia assured him she was fine.
Encouraged by Kyle's talk last night, Lydia had gently told Vanessa to knock it off with the gifts. Her little sister had got defensive, but had she had been reassured by her promise to play with Jonathan. But she sensed it would probably be a little tense for a while. Lydia sighed. Nessie inherited their father's temper, that's for sure.
Trudging to the back office, she sat down in the chair, opting to crack open a beer. It wasn't like she had to drive. Their apartment was a block from the shop. She'd have one beer, go home and rest up for the grand opening. Finishing the beer and depositing the bottle in the trashcan, she got up and got whacked in the head.
"Kyle is mine, bitch," a female voice snarled in her ear before it all went black.
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The next thing she knew, she was in a hospital bed.
"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Kyle snarled.
Her head was fuzzy-from the drugs? from the head injury?-so it took her a while to figure out what was going on, but when she did she croaked out, "You looked like you needed some sleep."
Kyle's face softened. "I'm so sorry, babe."
"You were out a couple of days," Vanessa piped up. "I was worried after you didn't answer either your cell or the parlor's phone, so Dave and I went to check up on you. We found you on the floor." Her voice cracked. "There's a detective who wants to talk to you, if you're up for it."
"What the hell," Lydia murmured. Wasn't like she was going anywhere anyway.
Detective Rodriguez, as he intruduced himself, asked her a few questions, which Lydia answered to the best of her ability, handed her his card, and implored her to call him if she could remember anything more. Thanking the policeman, he departed, followed by Vanessa and Dave.
Encouraged by Kyle's talk last night, Lydia had gently told Vanessa to knock it off with the gifts. Her little sister had got defensive, but had she had been reassured by her promise to play with Jonathan. But she sensed it would probably be a little tense for a while. Lydia sighed. Nessie inherited their father's temper, that's for sure.
Trudging to the back office, she sat down in the chair, opting to crack open a beer. It wasn't like she had to drive. Their apartment was a block from the shop. She'd have one beer, go home and rest up for the grand opening. Finishing the beer and depositing the bottle in the trashcan, she got up and got whacked in the head.
"Kyle is mine, bitch," a female voice snarled in her ear before it all went black.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next thing she knew, she was in a hospital bed.
"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Kyle snarled.
Her head was fuzzy-from the drugs? from the head injury?-so it took her a while to figure out what was going on, but when she did she croaked out, "You looked like you needed some sleep."
Kyle's face softened. "I'm so sorry, babe."
"You were out a couple of days," Vanessa piped up. "I was worried after you didn't answer either your cell or the parlor's phone, so Dave and I went to check up on you. We found you on the floor." Her voice cracked. "There's a detective who wants to talk to you, if you're up for it."
"What the hell," Lydia murmured. Wasn't like she was going anywhere anyway.
Detective Rodriguez, as he intruduced himself, asked her a few questions, which Lydia answered to the best of her ability, handed her his card, and implored her to call him if she could remember anything more. Thanking the policeman, he departed, followed by Vanessa and Dave.