“He’s not here as protection.” She lifted her chin. “We’re together.”

Mark’s gaze jumped between them both. “Oh. Oh.” He winced. “Sorry, Eric, didn’t mean any disrespect. Just thought, you know, you two were…not like that. After what Piper said the other day, you know, about you being the bodyguard and all…”

“Things have changed. We’re like that,” Eric said flatly.

Mark shuffled to the counter. His hands tapped against the surface. “I…shit, I haven’t slept since last night. I got out of the police station when the sun was rising, and I-I just came here. But when I got here, the crime scene team was spread out all over the street. They are CSI-ing the shit out of your place, by the way, and every time I glance over there…” He flattened his hands on the counter. “God, I killed a man.”

Piper pulled from Eric and walked toward Mark. He looked so beaten and haggard. “You need rest. You should go home.” And not just stare at the scene of the crime.

His gaze searched hers. Dark shadows lined his eyes. “You’re okay, though. You’re safe. He can never hurt you. That’s what matters.”

“I’m safe,” she agreed softly.

Behind her, Eric’s phone rang. She looked back and found him frowning at the screen. “It’s Layla,” he told her. “Give me one second.”

He headed outside, and the bell jingled over the door.

Piper glanced back at Mark. She found that he was already watching her.

“You’re…really with him?” His voice was low, as if he didn’t want Eric to overhear. “You sure that guy is your type?”

“I’m sure he’s the guy I want.” Her hand reached for Mark’s and squeezed. “Mark, I know you must be going through hell. Have you contacted your sponsor?” That was the main reason she’d wanted to see him that morning. To make sure he was okay. To make sure that he didn’t turn back to the bottle.

He shook his head. “I…I need to.”

She nodded.

“My phone’s in the back.” He exhaled. “I could…I could use a friend with me. Come with me while I make the call?”

“Of course.” She spared a quick glance through the window. Eric was right outside. He met her stare through the glass. She gave him a little wave.

Then Piper followed Mark through the black curtain and into the back of the shop. The walls were filled with sketches. So much artwork. So many tattoo photos. Mark was an incredible artist. She’d tried to get him to do some work so that she could put it up in her gallery and—

“I saved you.”

He stood near a tattoo work station. His shoulders were bowed, and his hands were loose at his sides. She could see his phone, tossed onto the chair at the station.