by Jaci J
“Sure, we’ll call that being an asshole.”
“I want your art, Shay. I don’t care what my brother says.”
“I’m not sure...” I hesitate, not wanting to deal with that shit every day for a couple of weeks. I want to eat, and maybe pay a bill or two, but I’m not sure I want it that bad. I own a couple of perfectly nice boxes I can sleep in, and dumpster diving isn’t that bad.
Alek grabs my bag, the one hanging from my arm, and pulls it off. “Not givin’ you a choice.” He smiles, tucking my bag under his arm, holding it hostage and grabbing my elbow, steering me back toward the tattoo shop.
“First a verbal assault, and now a physical one?” I joke, finding Alek so much easier to be around than his brother.
He’s sweet, in a strange way.
He lets my elbow go after a few feet and throws a hand out toward the shop. “Let’s go, Shay.”
“Jesus, you guys are something else around here,” I mumble.
Alek chuckles and starts to back away, my bag tucked firmly under his arm. “What can I say? We’re just a bunch of assholes around here.”
“I can see that,” I call after him, watching him walk away with my bag. I have no choice but to follow him. I want my shit back.
Walking back through the front door and past the curious receptionist, I follow Alek, wondering what the hell I’m doing. I must be stupid, or desperate. Maybe both.
He stops at an open door, and I do the same, standing behind him, hiding.
In the room is Niko, and he’s sitting on a stool, a woman with her shorts hiked up her leg and her ass cheek exposed, lying on the table in front of him. He’s wearing his hat twisted backward, and a pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses on his face as he concentrates on his work. His sleeves are rolled up, his own ink exposed, and a tattoo gun in his hand.
Jesus, he’s sexy. Too bad he’s a fucking dick.
“She’s stayin’,” Alek says, walking off before Niko has a chance to even look up, but I catch the look as I follow him. Niko stares at me, his eyes narrowed and his lips stern.
“He’s still not happy,” I mutter at Alek’s back as we walk away from the door.
“Niko’s never happy.”
“Never?”
Alek chuckles. “Not usually.”
“Well, that’s just fucking sad,” I say quietly, more to myself than to him.
Alek stops at a door, a green exit sign hanging above it. “Door to the bar,” he tells me, throwing the door open and stepping aside to let me look in.
It’s an empty bar. Tables covered in plastic sit along the wall with mismatched chairs on top, and there’s a bar in the middle with barstools in boxes under it. The lights are off and everything’s quiet. “An empty bar?”
“See that big wall? The one behind the bar?”
“Yes?” I look around, getting the vibe of the place. The bar is all wood, dark leather, and black steel. It’s very cool. Very manly. Very industrial.
“Paint it,” he says simply.
“Paint it? Any ideas?” Walking into the room and around some tables, I instantly get my own ideas.
“Run with it.”
“No rules?” Art without rules, without lines and boundaries, is ideal.
Alek smirks. “No rules.”
Niko
BREATHING HARD, SWEAT dripping into my eyes, I swing, connecting with flesh, and it feels so goddamn good. Theo stumbles, grunting as he catches the hit. “That it?” he coughs through his laughter.
“Fuck off.”
He smiles, a little blood on his chin. “You’re in a bad fuckin’ mood tonight.” And he enjoys it. “Thank fuck today was my day off.”
“Lucky fucker. Because today was a goddamn mess.”
“I wonder why?” he jokes, giving me shit. He knows. The gossip at Custom spreads like it does in a hair salon—fast and wild.
The gym is busy, people everywhere. Some overplayed rock song blasts from some damn speakers, giving me a damn headache.
“Fuck you.”
Everything inside of me is pent-up. My energy and my goddamn anger. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but tonight, more than usual, I’m in a mood.
“Is it about that chick? The artist?”
I keep picturing her standing in my doorway, watching me work. The longest damn second of my life. The way she was staring, those big brown eyes swallowing me up.
The bitch rubbed me wrong. Something about her got under my skin, making me itch. She’s fucking beautiful, no doubt, but there’s something else there, and I don’t know how I feel about it.
But I really don’t want to talk about her, so I swing, connecting with flesh and teeth. The adrenaline feels good, but the not talking about her feels better.
“That all you got?” he taunts, wiping at his bloody mouth, chewing on his mouth guard. Throwing a left hook, I knock his ass sideways. Theo staggers, laughing through a pained grunt. “There ya go, asshole. Hit me like you mean it.” Tapping his chest with his gloved hand, he coughs when I hit him again, hard.
“You’re a bitch.”
He continues to laugh as he dances around me, light on his feet, enjoying this shit. Swear to fuck, his mom dropped him on his head as a baby.
“Sure you don’t want one of my students?” He nods over at the row of guys sitting on a bench. All of them turn a funny color of green when he makes the suggestion. “They’ll go easy on you.”
Theo is my best friend, has been for years, but that doesn’t mean I won’t knock a couple teeth out of his cocky ass mouth.
“I’m good.”
“Good,” he says, hitting me with a jab, knocking the wind out of me. The motherfucker hits hard.
We go a couple of rounds with me not saying anything, and Theo taunting the hell out of me.
“You done runnin’ your mouth?” I ask, stepping out of his reach.
He nods, chuckling. “For now.”
Out of breath, I lean back against the ropes and grab the towel to wipe my face.
“Let me hear it. What happened today?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, tossing back the rest of my water. I really don’t want to get into this with Theo, but I know we’re getting into it anyway. The motherfucker needs to know everything.
“The artist chick. Heard you shot down the idea and pretty much kicked her ass out of the shop.”
“Jesus, you fuckers gossip, don’t ya?”
“Alek’s been talkin’ about finding new art for months. He finds someone and you lose your mind over it.”
“Your point?” I crawl between the ropes and hop out of the ring, chucking my towel into the dirty bin.
“No point. Just find it funny.”
Funny? Maybe I hit the dickface harder than I thought I did. “What’s funny?”
“How pissed you got. She’s just a damn artist. You that against it? Shit won’t end up like it did with your ex, you know that, right? She’s just a chick.”
“What the fuck does Mikayla have to do with this? My bitch of an ex-wife doesn’t have fuck all to do with Shay and her art. I just don’t need or want any new art in the shop. We’re good. Business if fucking great.”
Theo snorts, head shaking. “Business is fucking great, and that’s not what this shit’s about. It’s about the last year or so. The only females you haven’t been a dick to is your mom and Kendra. Think it might have more to do with Mikayla than you’d like to think.”
“Okay, Oprah.”
I won’t tell him he’s right, that the only females in my life are my mom, Kendra, and the occasional bitch I pick up just to fuck, because the idea of having any other woman around, permanently or semi-permanently, pisses me the fuck off.
I try not to take my frustrations with my ex out on every woman I meet, but it’s not easy. I hate the bitch.
“Give the girl a chance. We can always use new shit around the shop. It’s only gonna help business.”
“We’ll see.”
“Plus,
doesn’t hurt that she’s hot as fuck, or so I hear.”
“Jesus, Theo.”
“Just sayin’, man.”
4
Shay
Grabbing my bag and slipping on my sandals, I walk through my front door and pull it closed behind me. I’m still not sure about this, but I need the money, and I need a chance to get my work out there.
It’s a nice day, surprisingly. Sunny and warm, the sky blue and cloudless. Newport isn’t known for its nice weather, that’s for damn sure, but when we get it, we take advantage. Sixty-five and sunny, everyone is wearing shorts and tank tops, doing some sort of outdoor activity. Bike riding. Hiking. Kayaking. Beach combing. Just lying in the grass or sitting on the waterfront.
I walk the quarter of a mile toward the dock, enjoying the sunshine. The days are slowly slipping toward summer, and that only means one thing—tourists. They flock here in droves.
Custom’s front door is open, propped open by a crate full of old vinyl records, the buzzing of guns and the hum of music floating out.
Walking inside, I look around the waiting room. The place is packed. There’s a couple of bikers hanging around the front desk, along with a gaggle of girls thumbing through the books, giggling and pointing. And a couple of random people sitting in chairs, waiting.
“Hey, Shay,” the multicolored hair chick at the desks greets, smiling at me. “Alek’s with a client. You can wait here, or I can grab Niko for you if you want to get started now?”
I try not to shout, cutting her off in my desperation of not having to see Niko again. “No. No, I’ll wait,” I tell her.
“I’m Kendra, by the way.” She smiles, grabbing the phone and covering the receiver with her hand.
“Nice to meet you.” I return the smile and claim the only chair not clumped with other chairs and occupied by someone.
“Custom. How can I help you?” she says smoothly, answering the phone.
I wait around for about fifteen minutes, watching people. There’s a couple across from me, arguing about something. They’re talking quietly, but animatedly. I can tell she’s mad by the way she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and turning away from the guy she’s with. The bikers bullshit, loudly, laughing and throwing out cuss words by the truckload. And the girls just giggle, talking with their hands and cooing a lot.
“Yo, Shay, welcome back.” Alek smiles as he walks into the waiting area, waving me after him. “How ya doin’?”
“I’m doin’ fine,” I reply, getting out of the chair and hefting my bag over my shoulder. “How are you?”
“Can’t complain.”
Following him down the hall, I see that all the doors to each private tattoo room are closed. I look behind me when someone calls, “Alek,” behind my back.
Turning around to look, I see a guy standing at the end, jerking his chin up at Alek in a what’s up sort of gesture. That’s all fine and well until I run directly into a large, hard body in front of me while looking behind me.
Walking in one direction while looking in another—real smart.
“Shit,” I huff, the air damn near knocked out of me when my chest and face meet hard muscle.
“The fuck?” The body, which I’m guessing belongs to Niko by the sound of his voice, catches me as I stumble into him.
Looking up, I’m a little stunned. His hands are wrapped around my upper arms, steadying me. But he’s staring down at me, frowning. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and neither do I.
Jesus.
Niko’s hands are warm and rough, his body strong and solid. His presence so close to me is over-fucking-whelming.
The very small moment between us doesn’t last long, though.
“Jesus, Shay,” he growls, letting me go and stepping back away from me. “Watch where you’re goin’, yeah? You’re gonna fuckin’ hurt yourself.”
Blinking slowly, I lick my dry lips, the words stuck in my mouth. I nod and manage to spit out a pathetic, “Sorry.”
“If you’re gonna be around, stay out of my way.”
Stay out of his way? Fucking done. Not a problem. “Yeah,” I grumble, snapping out of the hazy moment. “I’ll stay way the hell out of your way.” I side step and give him space, my hand gesturing out in a Vanna White style movement.
Niko doesn’t say anything else. He just walks off, down the hall, some bleach blonde bimbo hot on his heels.
Alek is bullshitting with some guy and here I am, standing in the hall, alone.
I don’t know what it is about Niko and the way he rubs me, but all I know is that it’s the wrong damn way. He makes my blood pressure spike and my adrenaline flow. I feel stabby and turned on, and I don’t know how to process it.
The man screws with my mind and body, and I hardly know him. I fucking hate it.
A moment later, Alek is back in front of me, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. “Sorry about that. Tattoo questions.”
I shrug, trying to play it cool. “No biggie. Wanna take me to the bar so I can get started?” I ask.
“Sure.”
I follow Alek into the empty bar, watching him flick on lights and taking note on where they are for future reference. Walking me up to the wall, Alek gives it a valiant hand wave and declares, “She’s all yours, babe. Do your worst.”
I smile, and it’s almost evil. Free rein is intoxicating. “Thanks. Do you have a time frame?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Six weeks, give or take.”
I can work with that. “Cool.”
Taking a couple steps back, giving me space, Alek asks, “You all right?”
I give him a lame thumbs up. “I’m good.”
He nods, walking backward toward the door as he checks the time on his watch. “Cool. I’ve got an appointment. You need anything, come find me. I’ll be in room two, okay?”
“Sounds good.” I watch him walk through the door, closing it behind him.
I get to measuring and mapping, spending about an hour gathering ideas and working shit out before I head for the supply store and a drink. Lord knows I need one after today.
Niko
IT’S LATE, ABOUT ELEVEN. I had an appointment that ran longer than expected. Jessica, some chick from out of town, setup an appointment six months ago, and this was the only time I could fit her in, and the only time she could get here. So we made it work to finish up her large back piece of a cherry blossom tree with a fuck ton of little blooms and branches.
“How ya doin’?” I ask her, about finished with the piece. We’ve been at it about four hours now, and I’m ready to be done.
I’m tired of her blatant flirting. The bitch wants me to fuck her, and I couldn’t want to fuck a bitch less than I do right now.
On her stomach, she wiggles, shaking her ass. “Great. I love the pain,” she laughs, her voice seductive and husky. “You know, there’s nothing like the feel of getting a tattoo.”
This bitch has been at it all night. She’s either asking about my personal life, or doing shit that suggests she’s looking for more than a tattoo from me. She’s real fucking obvious about what she wants.
“Almost done,” I tell her, not interested in hearing how much she loves pain, or how she just broke up with her boyfriend because he wasn’t doing it for her anymore. I don’t give a fuck about her bra size, or how she doesn’t have a damn gag reflex.
I just want to finish my piece, collect my money, and push her through the damn door.
Finishing the last little branch, I flip off my gun and set it down on the table next to me. “Done.”
Grabbing a sterile paper towel, I wipe down her tattoo, revealing the final piece.
The shit is beautiful. Vivid and soft. Detailed. “Looks good,” I tell her, watching her sit up and turn toward me, her naked top half on full display. She rubs her tits. “They’re asleep,” she giggles, jiggling her fake boobs.
No thanks.
“Here,” I grunt, handing her a mirror and sliding my stool back as far away from her as possib
le. “Take a look.”
Jessica stands and walks over to the mirror, spinning around. “What do you think?” she asks me, and she’s not talking about the tattoo.
“The tattoo turned out great,” I tell her, getting the covering ready. “Once you’re done, I’ll cover it.” And that’s exactly what I do. I cover it, chuck my gloves, wash my hands, and head out the door to let her get dressed.
Walking into the hall, I hear voices.
The fuck?
Opening the bar door, I hear people laughing and smell pizza.
Kendra, Alek, and Shay are in the bar, sitting around a table, bullshitting.
Shay looks over at me and smiles.
“The fuck you doin’ in here?”
She rolls her eyes. “Hi, Niko.”
“Like I said, the fuck you doin’ in here?”
Turning fully in the booth, she gets on her knees and looks at me over the high-back bench seat. “When someone says hi, you say hi back.”
Jesus. “Hi, Shay. Now what the fuck you doin’ in here?”
Taking a bite of her pizza, she shrugs. “Grocery shopping.”
Fucking smart-ass.
“Damn, Shay,” Alek says, grabbing around Shay’s waist to steady her. “You’re gonna knock your shit over.”
Shay laughs.
Alek smirks.
I growl.
“C’mere, Shay.”
I’m a jealous asshole, and I don’t even know why. I don’t like the bitch, but I can’t fucking stop myself.
She looks at me suspiciously. “Why?”
“Jesus, you ask a lot of questions. Just c’mere. Need to show you somethin’.”
She listens, thank fuck.
About as graceful as a baby deer, she climbs over my brother and out of the booth, damn near falling flat on her face.
I rush to catch her fall, but Alek gets to her first.
Fucking asshole.
Shay rights herself and follows me out of the bar, frowning. “So what do you wanna show me? The door?” she smarts off, stopping in front of me.
Believe me, I thought about it. But instead, I pull something stupid out of my ass. “If you’re gonna be here all fucking hours of the night fucking off, then you need to know how to lock up so our shit doesn’t get stolen.”