Mad Love (Guns & Ink Book 1)

by Shana Vanterpool

  He stared at all the boxes and then gave me a look. “You mind going to get my inventory sheets? They’re in the first drawer in my office, marked, of all things, inventory?”

  I smirked at his directions. “Seems easy enough.” I told Klayton I’d minored in marketing, but I hadn’t said I’d done so for my father, that there was a huge chance his business would become my future. My father was old school, and didn’t understand today’s marketing techniques. His sporting goods business pulled so many sales because of its location, but it could pull so much more if he came into the twenty-first century. I retrieved the notebook from Klayton’s office, keeping the pen tucked inside with my finger. Thinking of the past in this tattoo shop was turning my brain upside down. And those dirty sheets kept threatening to drag me back.

  When I came in, he nodded at the notebook, unloading a plastic box housing a lot of little pieces. “Everything’s marked. Let’s inventory these and then I’ll transfer them to a spreadsheet on my computer. It’ll alert me when I get low. First thing is guns.” He held up a package. “I’m throwing a number at you, be ready.”

  I fumbled with the notebook and quickly familiarized myself with the layout. Klayton’s handwriting was sloppy, unfinished letters. I could tell Cat had also filled it out as well. I jotted down the numbers as he threw them at me, marking down gloves, ink, gun pieces, pencils, pens, power cords, cleaning tools, ointments, razors and antibacterial and disinfectants. The sheer amount of supplies startled me. The amount of money it cost to make the shop safe and clean, for every single customer, was half the expense. I thought we were finally done, but he pulled over a few more boxes of piercing items.

  He gave me a look when he shook out a crystal tongue ring from a tiny bag. It was small and shiny, catching the light as he held it up for me. “These are going to sell like Cardigans.”

  It was pretty, dazzling in the breakroom.

  “And it’s a shame I already contaminated this one.” He winked, slipping it in his back pocket. “Maybe I’ll hold on to it.”

  In response, I stuck out my tongue.

  He chuckled knowingly. “It’s going to hurt.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “I thought you didn’t want a piercing anymore.”

  But it was so pretty. “I thought I didn’t want you to touch me either. I’m not always right.”

  His eyes softened. “You sure you can handle it?”

  I was painfully sure. I nodded, feeling a spark of excitement I wasn’t used to. It felt so new, so Mad. “I’m sure, Klayton.”

  “Sit down. I’m breaking the rules, but you won’t sue me, will you?”

  I sat on the leather couch. He started getting things ready. He put on gloves and then opened a bottle of alcohol. He dropped the piercing in it and then tore open a pack of what looked like little tongs. Then he knelt in front of me.

  “Stick out your tongue.”

  I gave it to him. He examined my tongue closely, turning it up and looking at the bottom. Once he seemed satisfied, he put the tongs on my tongue, the cold metal moving to the right spot. He produced a plastic wrapped, long, thin needle in a plastic bag.

  “Rip this open and don’t touch it.”

  I loved being a part of this. I handed it to him still in the plastic, and he picked the needle up with his black-gloved fingers.

  “Ready?” I nodded eagerly, careful to keep my tongue still. He bit down on his piercing as he brought the needle close to my tongue. “On three. One.” He touched the needle to my flesh. “Two.” A slight stab punctured my skin. “I can’t wait to feel this shit on my tongue.” His comment sent heat through me right before he said, “Three,” and plunged the needle into my tongue.

  The second it was over, I smiled as best I could.

  “I’m proud of you, Mad. You know Cat tried that five times and still doesn’t have the balls.” He took the piercing out of the alcohol, and then slid it down on the needle, pulling it out and leaving the piercing in. He screwed on the shiny crystal top, and then gave me a wink. “All done. Go take a look in one of the mirrors in the back room. There’s one on your left.”

  I shot to my feet, feeling the addition in my mouth. There was a door open on my left, and I ducked inside, spotting a tattoo chair and a long-standing mirror. I stood in front of it, and then stuck out my tongue. The crystal caught the light in the hall, making it glow. My lips rose as best they could, and my eyes sparkled. I couldn’t believe that one little object made me so happy. Made me feel normal, alive.

  “You just went from a temptation to a torture device.” The groaning low in Klayton’s throat traced my spine. “Show me.”

  I turned around, heat between my thighs and in my eyes. I showed him my tongue.

  “Feels weird at first, huh?” He examined his handiwork with a small, proud smile. “No kissing for a few days. At least not with these.” He flicked his tongue at me. “Don’t touch it too much either. I’ve got alcohol free mouthwash upstairs. And no lemon juice. Trust me, it stings.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my nose. “Say something.”

  “Thank you.” Ugh. I sounded like my tongue was four times its usual size. When he grinned, I thought making me talk had been his point. “How long will I sound like this?”

  “A few days, maybe a week. It’s going to hurt in a few.”

  I felt fine. The intrusion in my mouth kept reminding me how off the wall it was, how new and exhilarating without any threat of real danger. “Now what?”

  “Now you let me get some work done. Come with me in the front.”

  I balked, my excitement fizzling. It was gone so fast, I couldn’t believe it had even existed. Had he planned on giving me my piercing the entire time? How did he know what would make me feel better before he even did it? I let him have parts of me last night I’d never given to anyone. That was the best part. I’d given them to him. It was a choice I made.

  And it didn’t hurt.

  We stepped out into the tattoo parlor, greeted by rock music and the buzz of tattoo guns. Klayton went straight to the register with me tucked into his side, looking around the shop like a king. He looked at the waiting area, where two people sat, their expressions bored. And then he looked down at a book. I glanced over his shoulder to peer down at the appointments, finding that they were all there for tattoos. And judging by their resigned faces, they knew they were going to be there for a while.

  Klayton peered down at me and held my gaze, his own seeming to seek something, and then he looked at his patrons. Finally, he closed the appointment book, his face impassive.

  I looked down guiltily, glad that he wasn’t going to work today. Instead, he pulled over two stools, and we sat as he cataloged checks and filed receipts. The three tattoo artists hadn’t looked up at all. They were deep in their work. One of the tattoo artists, a blond with a mohawk, was tattooing a large male with his entire flesh covered in ink, nodding his head to the music in his earphones. The other customer was a woman, and she was bent over her chair so the tattoo artist could reach her side. Flower vines traced up her skin, feminine and pretty. I ran my piercing over the roof of my mouth, eyeing her.

  The front door opened, and two girls walked in. They couldn’t have been more than eighteen. They looked older, but I could tell in their eyes that they weren’t, they just wanted to be. They wore short shorts and tank tops, showing off their ample cleavage. One brunette and one redhead, and they immediately latched eyes on Klayton.

  He gave them a smile. At first, I was startled by it. Klayton hardly ever smiled. But then I saw that his midnight eyes were flat. He didn’t mean it.

  “What’s up, ladies?” he greeted.

  They both leaned against the counter. “We want piercings.”

  “Where?” He was all business.

  They were all play. The red headed woman blushed the color of her hair, and her friend rolled her eyes. “We want our clits pierced.”

  Shocked, I couldn’t believe their audacity. But Klayton didn
’t bat an eye.

  “ID’s?” he demanded.

  They both pulled them out from their clutches. Klay looked them over carefully. Pleased, he fisted them both and then handed them two pieces of paper from a stack under the counter. “I’m going to make copies and get the backroom ready. Look these over and pick the placement you want.” He handed them a small binder, marked Genital Piercings. “Don’t giggle either,” he warned, making them do just that. “It’s just a dick and pussy. Go sit down. I’ll call …” He pulled out an ID at random. “Susanna first.” He met my eyes the moment they stepped away with the binder. “You want to go in the breakroom and wait?”

  He was going to do it? After he’d given me my piercing, he was going to pierce their clitorises? Did that mean nothing? A moment too late, I realized I was jealous. Not your typical he’s mine, bitch jealousy—I’d never felt that before—but I thought he gave me my piercing because it meant something. “No,” I mumbled, unable to look at him any longer.

  He bent to catch my gaze. “They’re just piercing’s, Mad.”

  I wanted him gone so I could breathe through my anger. It was so new, so Mad. The old me never got jealous. She always thought it was a pointless emotion. That wasn’t the only thing she was wrong about. “Mhm.”

  He sighed, giving my forehead a kiss before he took off. I caught Cat’s wide gaze. She looked at the girls in disgust, and then at me in worry.

  When Klay called out for Susanna, I understood why. She was afraid he was going to sleep with them. She’d mentioned it weeks before how women came into Guns & Ink for things like this just to meet Klayton. He had a reputation in town amongst the women.

  At the time, I hadn’t thought anything of it. Now I cared. Now I was pissed. He’d been with me last night. I gave Cat a narrowed-eyed gaze, which for some reason made her laugh. She returned to her canvas, head down, and hands moving over the dark ink on the man’s back.

  I wondered if I’d ever get close to a man again. My head pounded and my throat burned. Please don’t puke, please don’t puke. My view shifted from a tattoo parlor to a dark room. The panic that flooded my system was overwhelming.

  Susanna came out right then, face ashen. Klay followed, grin huge. “Kylie?” he called next. The brunette hopped up, laughing in her friend’s face.

  “Did it hurt?” she asked.

  Her friend looked green as she walked past without answering.

  “Mad?” I barely gave him a look. “There’s aftercare packs in the storage room marked GPA. Can you get two?” He took off with his eager little friend.

  Why do you need a clit piercing? I mean seriously. I stomped to the back, opening two wrong doors—one bathroom and one tattoo room—before I found the storage room. Everything was neat and ordered. There was a section marked after-care. I sifted through the packs until I found two GPA’s, genital piercing after-care. I snorted at the joke and then wondered if it even was a joke. I squeezed my thighs together, shuddering on the way back into the parlor, and walked a pack over to Susanna.

  “Thanks,” she said, face green.

  “Does it hurt?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. But it does, too, you know?”

  Peer pressure, I decided. “You want anything? Water, a time machine?”

  She laughed breathlessly. “Both, please.”

  “Oh, I forgot, our time machine’s in the shop. How about a water instead?” She gave me a small nod. I went to the breakroom and got a bottle out of the fridge, returning with her water.

  Klay and Kylie came out as I was walking back to the register. Kylie looked far happier than her friend. Klayton, on the other hand, looked aggravated. “Ring them up, Mad. Hundred apiece.” He handed me a stack of paper, and then he took off for the back.

  Frowning, I followed his instructions. I read the papers, determined they were copies of invoices and receipts, with their ID’s copied above them.

  “Two hundred, please.” I felt uncomfortable being in charge, having hadn’t been in so long.

  Kylie sighed. “Isn’t he the hottest piece of ass in the entire state?”

  I looked up from the receipt, cringing, not giving her an answer. Screw it. He’s mine, bitch. She took out four fifty-dollar bills and handed them to me. I gave her the after-care instructions, then ad-libbed. “Read everything in the pack over. And follow the instructions, please. It’s a special piercing.”

  “Seriously, though.” She leaned in, giving me a sultry look. “Can you give him this?” She slipped me a piece of paper with her number on it. “He wouldn’t take it, but maybe he’ll rethink his choice.”

  I stared at her number and then gave her a forced smile. He didn’t do anything. “Will do. Here you go.” I handed her the paperwork for both her and her friend. When they’d left, I didn’t know what to do with the cash.

  “Here.” Klay reached behind me and pressed a four-digit code for the register. It shot open, showing a drawer full of cash. “Thanks for helping. Special piercing, huh?” He took the number she’d given me and tossed it in the trash.

  I looked up at him, feeling stupid. “Seriously? A piercing on your clitoris?”

  He shrugged, gaze amused. “Part of the job.”

  “She wanted to hook up with you.”

  He shrugged again. “I know,” he grunted, shaking off a memory. “Don’t remind me.” He slipped beside me and pulled up a new screen on the POS system. “From now on, ring up the sales using the register. Open a new charge, like this.” His fingers moved effortlessly over the screen. “Put in the amount, and then when it comes time to pay, choose the method. Credit, debit, cash, or check. We try not to take checks from new customers, so until you’re familiar with it, either come get me or Cat. But for the time being, stick with cash and cards. The card machine’s right here.” He tapped the black box. “They have to sign for credit, even though that’s another form of payment I don’t prefer. Cash is fast, and it’s reliable, you know? When it’s in your hands, it’s in your hands. But not taking cards cuts your clientele in half.”

  I wanted to smack my forehead. “Why don’t you use a tablet POS system and link it to your bank account? Easy, fast, and everyone has to sign with a dash of their fingers. It’s cheap, and it will save you so much money. Like how many people cancel their cards after a large job?” I shook my head at him. “Or write a check from a closed account.”

  He looked down at me, eyebrow quirked. “Are you telling me how to run my business?”

  I huffed at the dark, amused look in his eyes. “I’m suggesting an easier method. And I’m sorry, but who doesn’t want cash? I get it. It’s easier, and no one knows anything, but it makes you accountable for everything. I’d try something different. Treat it like a restaurant. Come in, get your tattoo, pay the bill, and leave. This is too complicated for an honest business man.” I glanced at his tattoo artists. “Do they have their own code to the register?” I lowered my voice, so the music covered it.

  He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I think you should hire one person to man it. Let them charge the customer. That way only one hand touches the money and you can monitor how much’s going in. Someone who won’t take a cut, if you know what I mean.”

  He looked at his artists too. “Cat’s too busy. The guys only want to tattoo and leave. Plus, this isn’t a restaurant, Mad. It’s a tattoo shop. We have to deal mostly in cash. That’s how it works.”

  “What about when it comes time for taxes?”

  “They get W2’s of what I gave them. I’m not screwing with the government. But it’s up to them to decide how they want to go about it. I tattooed too, remember? It’s hard to get jobs and give it all away.”

  I didn’t like it. Successful businesses didn’t deal mostly in cash. They dealt in honest money for jobs rendered. It upset me he had to work that way. This was his living. What happened if the IRS came in here snooping and found out his workers were making a large cut in cash and not reporting it?


  He gave my chin a soft touch. “It’s all right, Mad. I’m not stupid. This is my life. I know what I’m doing.”

  Obviously, Klayton was on his own. He didn’t speak about his family, and Cat mentioned his father was a bitter old man. Cat looked out for him, but I thought she only did the best she could. She had to look out for herself first. I understood that. But who was there to look out for Klayton the way he’d been looking out for me?

  I gave his hand a look. “Please tell me you wore gloves.”

  “Of course,” he snapped. He glared at me, an honest, real glare. I didn’t like it. “Would you have rather me turned them down? That’s two hundred dollars I didn’t have.”

  So far, he’d made good on his promise. He hadn’t scared me in days. And maybe that wasn’t his intention now, but he’d triggered something with that look. Angry men did bad things. I stepped away from him, staring down at the glass countertop. Tattoo designs were under the glass, ornate, intricate colored designs of koi’s and flowers.

  He sighed, and a moment later his hands were on my hips, and his chest was pressing into my back. His mouth caressed my ear. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” His tongue ring fondled my earlobe. “Forgive me,” his deep voice whispered softly; a chill broke out across my arms.

  No fair, I thought sadly. “You promised.”

  “You’re right, I did. And I’m trying. Aren’t I?” His lips kissed my ear and down, leaving heated marks down my throat. “It’s only been a few days.” Regret entered his tone. His grip on me tightened; his hands circled my waist. “I don’t like scaring you. I’m … not … used to caring about how anyone else feels. As fucked up as that sounds.”

  If Cat weren’t watching us with a cheesy grin, I would have turned around and succumbed. As it was, I wouldn’t, and I thanked her for being a butthead. I didn’t like that feeling, that dark fear that told me I’d have to choose between my safety and him one day. Because if I were honest, after last night, the idea he may not be good for me broke parts of my heart I didn’t even know were in the game. Coming to Klayton’s hadn’t even been my idea, I didn’t know I’d be at this place. A place that felt so normal, and terrifying, and temporary.