Perfect Collision
Page 28
Once the letter to Mac was finished, I sealed it in an envelope, wrote the address, and added postage. I thought it was best to do it before I changed my mind or got the chance to reread it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
People Move On
-o0o—
I WALKED INTO WICKED Ink, and it was instant relief. It felt like the only place where things were just as usual even with Mac gone. Like the only place I could properly breathe.
It was just before Christmas, and Mac’d been away for just over two months. I’d been to visit him twice and it sucked pretty bad, since I wasn’t allowed to kiss him or touch his face. We could only hold hands and share a quick hug at the beginning and end of the visit. But it was still nice to see him, and he looked okay. Not beat up or anything like that. He said Bull was on top of things, and I’d known he would be. I was feeling better, and as much as the visits sucked, they were something to look forward to.
I’d had my nineteenth birthday, and Dad had pointed out it was the first hurdle. The first bigger thing I had to do without Mac. I’d turn twenty before he came out, so it was the first birthday hurdle out of two.
The next hurdle was Christmas. Mac would only be away for one Christmas, so it was the only Christmas hurdle. Another hurdle down and the rest to come…
The job was basically the only thing getting better. I had a three customers I was doing big work on, two full sleeves and a back. The kind of tattoos that meant they had to come back several times. Each time, I stared at the ink I’d done and was a little impressed. Even I thought I was getting good at it. Sami still supervised for the bigger or more complicated tattoos, and I discussed every step of the way with him. I was practicing a lot on realistic stuff; Dad was eagerly awaiting his first portrait.
“Hey, JB,” Sami said when he came out from his room. “Got something to ask you.”
“Okay?” I said and sat down.
“I was thinking about you and me doing a tour.”
“A tour?”
“Tattoo conventions. Maybe do some guest work at other studios. Things like that.”
I knew what a tour meant, but I was still an apprentice. “I doubt all that many studios would invite me.”
“No. Not yet. But they’ll invite me.” Sami sat down on the couch next to me. “Thought we’d take the chance now, and it would be something for you to do instead of just sitting at home, waiting.”
If he suggested it, it was because he thought it was a good idea, but I still needed to ask.
“Think I’m ready for it?”
“I don’t ‘think,’ kiddo,” Sami said with a smile. “I know.”
“Wow!” I thought about it for a while. “When?”
“I’ve been checking and there’s some stuff coming up already in January I think I can get us into. I thought we’d start with conventions and see what happens.”
I liked the idea, and he was right. It was something to do rather than just sit and wait, and a great way to get some practice. It was also a good thing to do now while Mac was away. Not that he wouldn’t let me go, but this way we could do a lot of them in a short time. It would get my name out there, if…
“Think I’d do well? I mean, it would be stupid to—”
He didn’t even let me finish. “You will. No doubt about it. I know you won’t like to hear this part, but the fact that you’re eighteen—”
My turn to interrupt. “I’m nineteen.”
“Yeah,” Trixie butted in. She was obviously feeling overlooked, and she hated when people didn’t include her in conversations. “Because nineteen is practically middle-aged when it comes to tattoo artists.”
“Just pointing it out.”
“Well, still, the fact that you’re nineteen, and you’re a girl,” Sami waved towards me, “looking the way you do, it’s gonna make people notice you, and your work can stand scrutiny.”
That was probably the best compliment I’d ever get from him, but I was fine with that. I gave him a hug.
“What about licenses and things like that?”
“Hun’,” Sami laughed. “I’ve done a few tours. I know what we need, and I’ll handle it. All you’ll have to do is sign the papers.”
“Okay.” I hugged him again. “I need to talk to Dad.”
“Yeah. Get him on board.”
“I will.” I was beaming. I knew it, but I didn’t care. This was big! “I’m sure he’ll let me go. Besides, I’m nineteen. What’s he gonna do?”
“Break my fingers,” Sami deadpanned. “So please get him on board.”
“Yeah. He might actually break your fingers,” I agreed with a nod. “I’ll talk to him. He’ll probably like the idea. He doesn’t want me to just sit and wait, so I’m guessing this is something he’ll like.”
I honestly didn’t think it would be a problem. He trusted Sami, he knew he’d keep an eye on me, and he’d be happy for me.
I finished one of the sleeves during the evening, and the guy was so fucking pleased. He kept looking at it in the mirror, and I had some trouble to even convince him to let me wrap it up for him. I took some pictures of it for my portfolio.
“Think you could come back once it’s healed?” I asked him. “I’d like some pictures then, too.”
“Sure.” He’d done enough tattoos to know why I was asking. A healed tattoo looked better on picture than still-fresh ink. The swelling would disappear, it would heal up, fade a little, and be less shiny.
Once I’d cleaned up, I said goodbye to the others, and hoped Dad would be in a good mood, because I wanted to ask him immediately. I wanted something other than prison visits to look forward to.
-o0o—
It’d only been two months, but it was noticeable when four members went inside. To make matters worse, Wolf had come up to Bear and Brick earlier that day telling them he wanted out. He’d wait for the other members to be released, but then he wanted them to vote him out.
He was old, and if he’d managed to stay alive until he was almost seventy, he wanted to die next to a woman—preferably while inside a woman—and not by a bullet.
Wolf might not have been in the Greenville club for as long as Bear had, but he’d been a Marauder for longer than him. Even during the early years he’d seen Wolf a lot, since he’d been a Nomad. It would be odd to not have him in the club, and he hated Wolf leaving, but he wouldn’t dream of denying him. They’d all vote for him to leave in good standing. Especially when he asked in the way he did. Putting the club first, and making sure they’d be able to handle him leaving.
He’d asked for one more favor. He wanted Vi to be the one who tattooed the ‘out’ on him. He wanted his country-girl to do it.
Bear promised him to ask her that night, and while he waited for her to come home, he was talking to April.
She stayed at his place a few nights a week, and he made sure they didn’t fuck while Vi was at home. The apartment wasn’t big enough for it. April was getting along well with Vi. She wasn’t trying to be her mother or anything like that, but they got along.
When Vi came home, she looked nervous. She kept eyeing April, which made him think there was something she wanted to talk about, and she didn’t want to do it in front of April. He sat down by the window—studying Vi—waiting for her to get it off her chest.
“How was work?”
“Fine. Finished that sleeve. The black and white with Hellsing stuff.”
“The Japanese shit?”
“Manga, Dad. It’s manga.”
“Wow! Remind me to have a look at that, asap.”
“Very funny!” She gave April another glance and took a deep breath. “Sami had sort of a suggestion today.”
He nodded and looked at April. “Go wait in the bedroom for me.”
“Sure,” she said, stood up, and gave him a kiss. When she leaned closer, she whispered. “Go easy on her.” Then she turned to Vi. “Night, Violet.”
“Night,” Vi answered and looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, because he always listens to what I say,” she mumbled. Once April was gone, she turned to him. It looked like she was about to tell him he’d been rude to April, but probably figured it was better to be nice to him. She was a smart girl. “He wants us to go on a tour. Conventions, and maybe some guest spots at other shops if I’m invited along with him.”
It was something for her to do, but he did have some questions.
“For how long?”
“Nothing is set, but I think we’d be doing it for a while. We both have customers here, so we’ll be back pretty often.” She gave him a weak smile “More time for you and April.”
“Don’t do that,” he said, and pointed at her with a chuckle. “Don’t try to throw me off. He thinks you’re ready?”
“I’m pretty sure I’ll sit and draw or run errands for him most of the time, but I think I still might learn a lot and meet a lot of people.”
She probably would, and he didn’t think she’d just sit around and run errands. She was a great artist. He knew that, and if he’d had any doubt the other guys at Wicked Ink kept telling him.
“Where are you gonna live?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Under a bridge, shack up with some of his drug buddies, or maybe just hotels?”
“Not like I can stop you. You’re nineteen.” Although if he wanted to stop her, he could’ve, but in this case he thought it was a pretty fucking good idea.
“Yeah. So if I wanted to go to North Korea, it’s not like you’d break his arm to stop us?”
“Wouldn’t mess with a man’s business,” he said, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I’d put a bullet in his leg.”
Vi laughed. “So as long as I stay in the US, you’re okay with it?”
“Canada would be okay.”
“Such a generous man!” She got up and came over to him, putting her skinny arms around his neck in a hug. “Love you.”
“Love you. Make sure you come home often. Your guy inside might be pissed if you don’t visit him.”
“I know,” she said and sat down in his lap.
He couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that, and as he wrapped his arms around her, he realized he’d missed it. Missed having a kid in his lap. Vi used to sit and play with his beard, and if someone tried to talk to her, she hid her face in it.
“This’ll keep me occupied,” Vi continued. “And it gives me a chance to do this without pissing my man off.”
“Yeah, I don’t think he’d be happy if you went on a long tour just when he’s released.” He gave her a long hug. “Gonna miss you, and you still owe me another tattoo. Want more than the lizard.”
“I’ll get you one, and I’m also gonna fix your lizard,” she said. He knew she thought his tattoo was shit, but he was just pleased he had the first ink she’d ever done, and he’d never let her fix it. She gave his cheek a kiss and stood up. “I’m going to bed.”
“I have an ask,” he said and took a deep breath. “Actually, it’s Wolf who’s asking.”
“Okay?”
“He’s on his way out.” No point in dragging it out, and Vi’s eyes grew bigger. “He’s old, Katze. He want’s to die in peace, and he wants to be an old bugger for a while before he does. You can still call him and discuss country and shit. You’ll keep in touch.”
“Okay. What is it he wants me to do?”
“He wants you to do his out tattoo. It’s just the word ‘out’ and a date, but he asked for you.”
“Of course.” She stood in silence. “Gonna be weird when he’s gone.”
“People move on, baby girl. It’s the way of life. He’s not dead, and he’ll be around, just not as much.”
“I know. Still sucks.” She pointed towards his bedroom. “She’s waiting, and try to keep it down.”
“I’m not messing around while you’re at home.”
“Did you already do the dirty?”
“I love you, kid, but I’m not sharing those details with you,” he laughed and got up, too. “See you tomorrow.”
April was reading when he came into the bedroom. “Is everything okay with Violet?” she asked.
“Yeah. She’s gonna do a tour with Sami. Conventions and shit.”
“Should do her good to get away a little, and she’ll probably learn a lot.”
“How do you even know what a tattoo convention is?” he asked as he lay down next to her and gave her shoulder a kiss. “I thought you were a good girl.”
“I know what a convention is, and I’m smart enough to figure out what a tattoo convention is.”
He laughed and pulled her closer. “Turn off the light when you’re done.”
He woke up when she did and moved closer to him. Still half asleep, he threw his arm around her.
-o0o—
Mac was waiting outside the visitors center. It was Vi’s third visit, and her visits were by far the best fucking thing that happened inside. At the same time, it was hard to see her and not be allowed to touch her properly. As far as he was considered, it was cruel and unusual punishment to have her right there and not be allowed to touch and kiss her.
As always, it was easy to spot Vi among the other visitors when he was allowed inside. She was sitting at a table wearing jeans, t-shirt, and a zipper hoodie. She looked great, and the smile she gave him when she noticed him, blew him away. He gave her a hug, as long as he was able to and inhaled deeply.
“Love you, Katze,” he whispered in her ear just before he had to let go.
They sat down, and she took his hand over the table. “How are you?”
“It’s the same as always. Talk about you instead.”
“Sami has suggested a tour.” She looked down at the table. “A pretty long one, but we’ll be back a couple of times a month.”
“Baby, don’t…” He wasn’t sure how to say it. “Don’t lock yourself up here just so you can come and visit.”
She was writing him, and she did it often. He’d had around two letters a week along with drawings. Sometimes more. There were spelling issues, and she often seemed to start a sentence and not finish it, or write the same sentence twice, but he hadn’t commented on it. It didn’t matter, not at all. He loved knowing she’d be there for him when he got out, but it didn’t mean he wanted her to just sit around and wait for him until he did.
Going to conventions sounded like a great idea. She’d do it eventually anyway, and he preferred her doing it while he was inside rather than when he’d just been released.
It wasn’t just about tattooing, either. She needed to experience things before he got out, because when he got out, she’d be twenty, and he wanted to do all those things he’d once promised Bear he’d wait with. Get his ink on her, marry her, and knock her up. It was pretty much the only thing he could think about. He was starting to suspect too much time on his hands, in combination with too much jerking off while thinking about her, might be a bad combination.
“I’m not locking myself up, and I like to visit you,” she protested. “I miss you, too.”
“Are you pouting?”
She glared at him and then smiled. “No. I’m going on the tour. I’m more worried I’ll end up sitting on my ass and not have anything to do. That I won’t actually tattoo, and I need to do that as much as possible.”
“Go for the nervous eighteen-year-olds.”
“Yay! I’ll be doing cherry blossoms and butterflies until they come out of my ears.”
“Don’t worry about it, honey,” he said with a laugh. “What else is going on?”
He wasn’t worried she wouldn’t have much to do, and he was pretty sure Bear had thought about the same thing as he had. The Marauders were spread over big parts of the country, so there would definitely be people at those conventions who wanted her ink.
She stayed until she was forced to leave, and she promised she’d be coming at
least once a month—two as often as possible. Mac was pleased, since he was able to sneak a quick kiss from her before he had to go back to gen pop.
“How’s your girl?” Dawg asked him when he sat down at ‘their’ table.
“She’s fine. She’s going on a tour of tattoo conventions, and she’s worried she’ll be sitting on her ass the entire time and not be allowed to do any ink.”
“Think we can help her with that,” Sisco said with a shrug. “At least till things start moving by themselves.”
“How’s your Old Lady doing?” he asked Dawg. “I saw the two of you.”
“Okay. You know Edie—she adapts. She’s mostly pissed she still has the heartburn from hell.”
Later that night, he reached down below the cover and grabbed his dick. He had another year of jerking off ahead of him. He missed his girl, but the thought of her with one of those purple fake dicks made him smile a little.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Something About Her Money
-o0o—
IT WAS THE SECOND day of my eighth tattoo convention, and we were on the sixth month of Mac’s sentence.
Yes, I was keeping track, crossing off one day after another in a calendar, but I hadn’t told anyone about it. I needed to physically see the days ahead of me and the days I’d cleared.
The first convention had been a surprise, since I got quite a lot of work. On the second, I figured out what was going on, and called Dad and told him to call off the fucking members flocking our table. Not like people wouldn’t figure out what was going on. It would just make it look like I had to call in favors to be allowed to ink. Dad nagged and shit before telling me Mac’d suggested the same thing. The next time I talked to Mac, I told him I’d stop writing those damn letters if he did something that stupid again. I wanted to make a name by myself, and I knew I could, but their ‘help’ could ruin it.