After His Betrayal, I Never Looked Back

I woke up and she was tattooing me. My boyfriend's childhood friend—art student, steady hand—bent over my bare arm with a needle, completely absorbed, like I was a sketch pad she'd found lying around.

Curtis smiled. "She said your skin's nice and smooth, perfect for practice. What do you think—cute, right?"

I nearly lost it. The police academy physical was two days away.

That tattoo destroyed everything. I would never pass the medical screening now.

Gretchen Winfield pouted and ducked behind Curtis Harding. "Your girlfriend is so scary.