by Korry Smith
Gravity took over, and I hadn’t expected the weight of it, it hit the ground with a thump. What was Alex talking about small time score? By the feel of the sack, there had to be a shit load of something in there. It weighed at least ten pounds.
Holy shit was it heavy. “What did you steal? The register?” Poking my head in, I saw no register, no money, just snacks and about six to seven energy drinks. I looked up at him with my eyebrow raised. “You held up a grocery store?”
He smirked. “Technically, it was a convenience store.”
“How much did you get?”
“Not much, about a hundred dollars or so, but I still have some money left over from home. I wanted to make sure we had more than enough cash for today.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled wad of money. They were mostly one-dollar bills.
“My boyfriend is a petty thief.” I laughed, taking a drink out of the bag, and rolling it in my hands. It was still chilled and felt good on my sweaty palms.
“Hey now, don’t talk shit,” he said, taking off his sunglasses and narrowing his eyes at me. “It’s the best I could do on short notice. It was the only thing they had within walking distance.”
Alex had a strict rule with getaway cars. If he couldn’t find one, he tried to go there on foot.
“Did anyone see you? Do we have to lie low for a while?”
“No, we should be okay. I scouted the place for a long time and checked for cameras. It was a low rent store, not busy, and with poor security measures. But we can’t stay here. We need to head into the city and keep moving.”
“Okay.” Setting down my drink, I headed for the bathroom. “I’ll go pack.”
“Hold on a second; I got something for you.” Alex grabbed my wrist and yanked me down to his lap. He pulled a card out from behind his back. “I didn’t steal this.”
I took it from him cautiously, handling the thin plastic-coated paper like a touchy and highly explosive bomb. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Of course, I did. It’s your eighteenth birthday. You’re an adult now. That’s a fucking milestone.”
“All you care about is having a clear conscience,” I joked, but when he puckered his lips to mope, I couldn’t resist kissing them. The softness and the warmth, mixed with the medicated taste of Chapstick, made me crazy. It consumed me and quickly my thoughts went astray.
My guy was just as weak, and kissed me back, slow and tender at first. When I licked his bottom lip, he growled and placed his hands on the sides of my face, to deepen what I started, making it more intense and forceful. Entirely lost in him, Alex brought me back when he abruptly pulled away.
Resting his forehead against mine and breathing heavily, he spoke in staccato sentences. “Stop…come on…you’re trying to distract me…please, just open your card.”
“Fine!” Giving him one last peck on the lips, I settled myself on his lap and opened the envelope. The purple card inside was an illustration of a yellow cat poking his head out of a big star. It threw me, and I looked back at him questioningly, he gestured for me to go on. “At eighteen you can do all kinds of things that you couldn’t have done before…” I wrinkled my nose at him, and opened it, continuing to read the verse inside, “or should I say, shouldn’t have done before. Happy eighteenth birthday.” On the bottom of the card was the small, almost illegible, scribbling of his name. I looked up at him and smiled. “It’s cute.”
“It’s lame, you can say it.” He chuckled, chewing on his lip ring, and looking so adorably embarrassed.
“No. Shut up. I love it,” I argued, throwing my arms around his neck, and hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, kid,” he said as he rubbed my back in circular motions. It was peaceful, and we sat there for a few moments, neither of us saying a word or pulling away.
It was the sudden vibration in Alex’s crotch that broke us apart. I shifted in his lap so that he could get to his phone. He smiled weakly and apologetically as he pulled it out and glanced down at the screen. He rolled his eyes and put it back into his pocket.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“Len.” That was all the explanation I needed. Thousands of miles away and he can still cockblock like no other. “We should get going,” Alex said, patting me on my butt. “Go get your stuff together. I want to be in the city before noon.”
Twenty minutes later we were on the road again and headed towards Saint Louis. On our way out, I happened to catch a glance at the convenience store that Alex held up that morning. It was two blocks from the hotel, and off on its own on a dirt path, hidden in a corner behind a forest of trees. It would be easy to miss from the road, and the reason I saw it was because of the commotion with crowds of people and the highway patrol surrounding the place.
Alex said that was the most business that place had ever seen, and really, they ought to thank him. I laughed for a good minute. He seemed to forget that he stole about a hundred dollars from the till and scared the living shit out of the owner. It was funny how he did these bad things, robbed people blind by holding a gun to their head, but he did it with humor, and with little or no harmful intention. The only time I saw how vicious and deadly Alex could be was with Terry, but that was justifiable in my eyes. If there was one person in this world that needed extinguishing, it was my grotesque and worthless stepfather.
It was around twelve in the afternoon when we got into the city limits of Saint Louis. We ate hot dogs at some street vendor, went to the Mississippi River and fed the ducks, and marveled at the architectural brilliance of the Gateway Arch. Every place we went, no matter if it was a little antique shop or rode the Metrolink, it was so amazing and beautiful. I’ve never been this happy. It was shaping up to be a good birthday—and we hadn’t broken the law in several hours.
That was progress.
“What do you think?” Alex smiled and pointed over to a red-brick building. It was old-timey, but the neon lights flashed ‘Infligé Tattoo and Piercing.’
We were downtown in the historical district called Laclede’s Landing or what locals call ‘The Landing.’ Everything around there was French inspired. There were cafes, street names were all in French, and the roads were narrow and cobblestone. The food, the baguettes with brie, was top-notch, but my favorite was the coffee. The espressos were amazing. It was enough for me just to experience this place, but now Alex was suggesting we get tattoos as well?
I glanced around and saw the Gateway Arch directly situated in front of the shop’s windows. The owner’s set up their business to show their customers the most breathtaking view as they got their first, or hundredth, tattoo.
It was perfect.
There was one small problem.
“That sounds awesome, but I don’t think I can without an ID. What if they ask me to prove that I’m eighteen?” I said sadly, silently cursing myself for not remembering to grab it when we visited Terry and Susan.
“And that would be the only thing stopping you from getting my name…” he slid his hands down my body and tapped his finger on the lower part of my hip, “…right here?”
Alex could be persuasive, and it didn’t take much for me to nod in agreement.
“Well then.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out my Arizona ID.
“No shit!” I gaped at him. “You got it?”
“I happened to see it in your mom’s—" I glared at him, “Susan,” he corrected, “I meant to say ‘Susan.’ It was in her purse, so I snagged it.”
“What else do you got in there?” Snatching his black leather billfold from his hands, I searched through it. There in the back of the wallet, hidden by some hundreds, were three pictures of me. Two were more recent, about a month before I left home, and the last one was of me when I was around three. It was Christmas. I had my Snoopy pajamas on, two pigtails, and a huge grin on my face. “Well, well, well. Aren’t you a little thief?”
He grabbed his wallet from me and shoved it into his bac
k pocket. “They were lying around.”
“Uh huh,” I said, not fooled in the slightest with his innocent boy act.
“You ready?” he asked, motioning his head towards the tattoo parlor.
I was more than ready, and anywhere he wanted to mark me was more than okay with me.
If he returned the favor.
“Not so fast. What about you, and the third most important thing in your life?”
Smirking with his crooked grin, he pointed to his chest. “It’s going right here.”
“Do you think they give us a two for one kind of deal?”
“Probably not.” He laughed, hooking his arm around my neck, and towing me across the road.
The parlor packed with people were a feast for the eyes. They all had piercings and tattoos to the extreme like my love, if not more. I was the one who looked out of place with my blank canvas of skin.
Strolling over to the wall of drawings, I stared up at them. There were dragons, guns, flowers, and wizards. So many choices. It overwhelmed me.
A guy name Caleb, one of the tattoo artists, came over to aid us in our search. He was short, wiry, and his pale blond hair was spikey with violet tips. Alex chatted with him and explained in detail of what we were looking to get inked. At one point, Alex said something about nipple piercings, but by the time I had caught on, the conversation was over, and they were both staring at me expectantly.
“I don’t want anything fancy.” Glancing back up at the drawings, I shrugged my shoulders. “Just a name is fine.”
“Your name?” Caleb cracked his knuckles.
“No, not mine.” I gestured to Alex. “I want his name.”
He smirked, all smug as fuck.
Caleb’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?” He glanced back and forth between Alex and me. “That’s kind of like the kiss of death to relationships.”
“We’re not like other couples,” Alex said.
That was an understatement.
“Yeah, I hear that all the time, but the statistics prove otherwise.” He rolled his eyes and waved us forward. “Anyway, not my business. Follow me.”
Caleb led us toward the back of the parlor into two rooms joined together with one black curtain to separate them. He called over another tattoo artist, Chloe. She was a small girl with sandy blonde hair and pink tips. There was a very close familial resemblance between her and Caleb.
“All right, beautiful,” Chloe said, waving me over and patting a black bench. “You’re with me.”
Hopping up on the seat, I worked out my tattoo design with Chloe, and Alex described in detail what he wanted to Caleb. Now and then, I would catch my guy peeking over at me. He didn’t think I saw him, but I did. I was more aware of him than he realized.
“All right, I think we’re ready,” Chloe said, lowering me back. I helped her pull down my jeans to expose the spot where she was going to tattoo me.
As she prepared the skin with disinfectant and outlined my design with a stencil, I looked over at Alex who was several feet away from me on the adjacent bench. His brows furrowed when he had seen how nervous I had become, and he reached out for my hand. I gripped his tightly and braced myself for the moment when the needle punctured my skin.
“Deep breath,” Chloe said.
I did, and then she began the process. It stung, and it burned, but it didn’t hurt. Chloe praised my choice of location. It was full of fleshy fat. Where it hurts the most was on the bony areas: wrists, the foot, fingers, and the back of the arm. Alex had his entire body dedicated to ink and could vouch for that.
Since my tattoo was dull and boring like me, it took forty-five minutes. Chloe was an incredible tattoo artist. She talked the whole time, trying to ease my anxieties, but it was Alex’s hand securely in mine that made it an enjoyable experience.
“All done,” Chloe said, leaning back, and grabbing a mirror off the side table. She handed it to me and raised the head of the bench. “Take a look.”
Glancing over at Alex, he winked at me. I took a deep and steady breath for the big reveal. Angling the mirror downwards, I lifted my hips and saw my tattoo for the first time. The skin was red, blotchy, and irritated by the assault, but despite that, I was in love with it.
No flair, no grand gesture to express the depth of my feelings for him.
It was just a name in black cursive.
Alex.
That was all I wanted.
“So, what do you think?” Chloe asked, smiling widely, but with a touch of nervousness hidden behind it. It was my skin, but it was her art. My critique of her design was what mattered.
“It’s…”
“Permanent,” Caleb interrupted.
Alex and Chloe scowled at him, making him shrink back into his chair. He dipped the end of his tattoo machine into some black ink and went back to work on Alex’s design, poking the needle into the skin and trying to ignore the two sets of hateful eyes burning a hole into his skull.
Chloe looked back at me and nudged me with her elbow, encouraging me to finish my sentence.
“It’s just what I wanted. It’s perfect. Thank you,” I said.
“I’m glad, and don’t pay any mind to him. We may be twins, but he’s a bitter and a soulless bastard who needs to get laid.”
I laughed and took a sideways glance over at Caleb, who seemed more inclined to keep his mouth shut. I suspected that had a lot to do with Alex's glaring eye on him.
“Let me see.” Alex tugged on my hand. We were still tightly interlinked.
I threw my legs over the side of the bench and turned my body towards him. The hem of my jeans was rising, and I had to push them down, making sure the wet ink didn’t get all over them.
Anxiously chewing on the inside of my cheek, I asked, “What do you think?”
Letting go of my hand, he gently glided his finger over the raised skin. He smiled up at me and mouthed, ‘Mine.’
It was true. Alex was my first real love. I fell for him, and it was effortless. It was like lying my body back in the water, floating with ease as waves of rational reason and sane thought crashed into the shore to never return. Alex influence was as endless as the ocean.
Once Chloe smeared my tattoo with ointment and bandaged it, I could move away from the bench. I stood up and stretched my aching limbs, glancing over at Alex, who was overseeing me. Peering over Caleb’s shoulder, with the tattoo halfway done, I saw that my guy kept true to his word and put the third love of his life on his skin.
There in black ink with a bold script was ‘Madison,’ but what held it up was a beautiful, long stem red rose, symbolizing my middle name.
I gasped out loud as my knees buckled beneath me. “How did you know?”
Alex did a half-shrug. “What do you think?”
The shock of seeing my name on him left me wobbly on the outside, but on the inside, it stirred up this visceral response in me, one filled with possessiveness and ownership.
Smiling up at him, I mouthed, ‘Mine.’
It was around eight-thirty in the evening when we exited the tattoo parlor. Caleb and Chloe gave us instructions on the aftercare. They went to explain a few things to me until Alex cut them off. Gesturing at himself and his extensive body art, he assured them of his knowledge about what to do and what not to do with post-tattoo care.
My guy had me covered.
Alex just wanted to leave and get away from that smarmy asshole. Who kept on making comments about the mistake we were making. We weren’t married, barely even been dating for over two weeks, and according to him, we were idiots. Not that he knew anything about us or where we came from, but it was clear from the snide remarks he made that he disapproved.
Alex clenched his fists, fighting hard against his instincts to punch the guy in the face. It showed restraint, and in the end, we paid in full and left the parlor without incident.
As we walked hand in hand towards the car, the Gateway Arch sat across the bay, lit up into a brilliant and luminescent blue. It reflected th
e buildings and lights that surrounded it.
For that moment in time, we were peaceful and safe. No horrible parents or the threat of the law was looming over our heads. It felt normal, and I was delighted but wary. Every time things seemed too perfect, the earth would open and drop me down, blackening every ounce of my happiness. I was waiting with dreadful anticipation for something to come along and ruin everything.
Tick tock.
It was a matter of time.
“Come here.” Alex pulled me over to the side of a building.
It was off the path of the sidewalk, but not entirely out of view, just out of the way of people walking past us. He glanced around briefly, checking if the coast was clear. There wasn’t a soul within a half a block radius. His eyes shot down at me as his finger tugged at the top of my jeans.
“What?” I swatted at his hand.
“Let me see it,” he said, plucking his fingers under the waistband of my pants, and exposing the white dressing underneath.
“You just saw it — not even five minutes ago. It hasn’t changed since then.”
“I know,” he said, bottom lip jutted out into a pout and giving me these big puppy dog eyes. “I want to see it again.”
It was impossible to tell him no.
“Fine.” Unbuttoning my jeans, I folded the top half over. Carefully peeling a corner of the bandage, I displayed just enough of the tattoo to make Alex happy.
“So fucking awesome.” Reaching out and touching me, my guy ran his fingers along my skin and idly traced the outline of his name. He then said something so quietly and softly; I had to strain my ears just to hear it and still managed to miss it.
“What did you say?”
His eyes flashed to mine, filled with a mixture of emotions: lust, want, need, and all of it jumbled together and blurred into one. He took one full step into me, walking me back and pressing me up against the wall. Engulfing my face with his large hands, he crashed his soft and possessive lips into mine. I gripped the front of his shirt and yanked him into me to deepen our kiss.
The throbbing need to have this man inside me, claiming me and owning me was reaching a fever pitch. Steadying myself against the wall, I lifted my leg up and hooked it around his waist. Nudging him with my heel, I pushed his ass forward and into me.