Razor's Edge (Afflictions)

by Racquel Reck

  I spray his pec down with a green soap solution so the stencil will stick. Carefully, I place the tracing paper over him, smooth it out, then remove it. Grabbing my mirror, I hold it so that he can see where I positioned it. "This good?"

  He eyes it. "I think it needs to be a tad to the left."

  Seriously? I positioned it perfectly.

  Morgan's lips quirk. "Nah, just messin’. It’s good."

  Letting out a sigh, I smile back at him and he laughs. I click on my machine and dip my needles into the black ink. Grabbing my paper towel, I wipe the spot where I’m gonna start and then follow the line left by the tracing paper. My needles graze part of his nipple.

  Morgan flinches.

  I raise the gun just in time.

  His pec moves. "Sorry, won't happen again. You just startled me." He breathes in deep and plays with his lip ring. His heated stare locks on to me.

  Adrenaline chases heat through my body. No man since Gary has ever made me feel this hyperaware of my femininity, and like the Shania Twain song, I feel totally like a woman. I can't do this. But then he'll think I'm even crazier if I back out. Taking a shaky breath, I try to clear my head of all things Morgan. "It's okay. Just don't move."

  I’m a bundle of nerves. This is Morgan—the man who entranced me last night on stage. A replay of his performance runs through my mind and has me feeling like I am a rookie doing my first tattoo. It’s damn important that I don’t mess this up. So I try banishing the wayward, wanton thoughts and focus on the lines in front of me.

  "You’re good with a needle." Morgan’s observation sounds a little strained, but he doesn’t flinch or make noises like some of my clients do.

  "Thanks." I keep my focus on my needle work and do only the thick lines. I’ll have to change out the size of the needle for the thinner ones. Keeping my calm, I slowly slip into my zone. That’s where I need to be. If I talk to him, my nerves will get the best of me.

  Normally I don’t have a problem concentrating and talking to the client. But the way my body is reacting to him, it’s hard to keep my focus.

  "How long have you been doing this?" His words startle me, and lucky for him my hand didn’t jump.

  "Since I was eighteen."

  He chuckles.

  I raise the needle just in time so that I don’t slip the needle or tear his skin, and let out a breath.

  "Sorry. Didn’t mean to move. I don’t know your age so that doesn’t answer my question." He smirks.

  God, get a grip. It’s only a ring. Tons of clients come in here with piercings all over the place, but never has a lip ring been more attractive on a man. Some men look a little fruity with one. Not him. Hell no. I wipe his skin and continue with my line. "Thirteen years this May."

  "So you’re thirty-one?"

  I laugh, wipe again and put the needle to skin. "Thirty. I was born in October."

  "Not much younger than me. I’m thirty-three. Born in June."

  He’s watching me. I can feel his eyes, or maybe it’s the lamp. I stop, wipe again, and glance at him. No, he’s staring at me.

  "Mom."

  I jump, then notice my son standing next to me. Why is he out of bed? I didn’t hear him come down the stairs. In fact, I haven’t heard much of the conversation going on with our friends. I’ve been too wrapped up in not fucking up with Morgan. Not messing up on Morgan, I mean.

  Morgan quirks a brow.

  What will he think of me now that he knows I have a kid?

  Morgan

  Shay’s got that “oh shit, he found out I have a kid” look on her face. It’s freakin’ adorable. I don’t know why, but I need to see this chick again, outside the tattoo shop.

  Her hands on me send vibes of electricity through me. The feeling it leaves is warm and soothing. Like I could spend all day rubbing myself up against her just to prolong the sensations she gives me. Her skin is soft and she smells like an orange blossom. I wonder what a morning in bed with her would be like.

  "Why are you awake?" She’s looking at her son. He’s freakin’ cute too, in his black PJs with white skulls. And are those skull slippers? His hair is black like hers, and other than the eyes he looks just like her.

  He eyes me and the rest of the people in the shop. “I had a nightmare.”

  "Aw, sweetie. I’m sorry." She bites her lip. "Do you mind if we take a break for a minute, Morgan?"

  What am I supposed to do, say no? I shrug. The poor kid had a nightmare.

  "Your kid sleeps in a tattoo shop?" I regret the question as I’m asking it. I don’t know her situation, so I should have kept the question to myself. If I had my damn pot and was high, my mouth wouldn’t have shot out an offensive question like that. I would have been smoother about it.

  She shuts off the machine, wipes my chest, and removes her gloves. "No, he doesn’t sleep in the shop. He sleeps in my loft above it." She places a paper towel over my pec. "I’ll be right back." She turns to her son. "Come on, Ben. I’ll tuck you in."

  The kid stares at me, wide-eyed, as if to say, “Help, I don’t want to go back to bed.” He’s not my kid and I can’t tell her what to do with him.

  "Mom, it’s dark up there. Please, don’t make me go back to bed."

  She sighs. "Ben, you have a night-light."

  "But that didn’t keep the bad dreams away," he whines. "Dad was getting pulled down by dark shadow things. There’s dark shadows in my room, Mom. Please..."

  Wiley and Bebe glance over from their chair across the room, and Lina, Tryst, and Bryan from the chair next to hers. I want to tell them to fuck off and go about what they were doing. Instead, "I don’t mind if Ben watches. If it’s okay with you, Mom."

  Everyone needs to stop staring at them like they just bought tickets for some freak sideshow. The way the kid described the dream about his dad, I can relate. Nightmares plagued me for years after I found my Dad, and the shadows still haunt me to this day.

  There’s that shocked face again, the one that I like to see because I put it there. I smile and her look fades into a frown, but she can’t hide her relief. There is a happiness in her eyes that wraps me in satisfaction.

  She cocks her head and stares as though she’s trying to figure me out. "All right, Ben. Go get your chair." Watching her son cross the room, it isn't until he's out of ear shot that she looks back to me. "Are you sure you don’t mind?"

  "He had a nightmare." I shrug. "As long as he doesn’t bump your arm and mess up my tatt, I think it’ll be fine."

  She puts on a new pair of gloves and switches out the needle. "Normally, he doesn’t wake up when I put him to bed. But..."

  "But what?"

  She shakes her head.

  Ben pulls up a small chair and sits on my left side, away from his mom and the needle. "You picked the right lady to do your tatt." He glances up at me. "Mom’s the best."

  Shay wipes my skin. "Ben, don’t bother Morgan."

  Ben hangs his head.

  I feel bad for the kid. He just needs some attention to distract him from the nightmare he had. "It’s okay. Why is she the best?"

  Ben’s eyes are as bright as stars, like he can’t wait to tell me how wonderful his mom is. "You see this here?" He points to some of the raised skin on my music-note tattoo. “They’re scars. Mom doesn’t leave bumps because she doesn’t tear the skin."

  "Great to know. Thanks." I glance at Shay and grin. "I’ll be sure to have her do my tatts from now on."

  Shay half smiles at me, then goes back to concentrating on her work. Her brows are pulled together and every once in a while she’ll stick the tip of her tongue out the side of her lips. I’d do anything to take that tongue into my mouth and see what she tastes like.

  "Good, because this person didn’t know what they were doing." Ben rolls his eyes. He’s drawing something, but I can’t see it from my angle. If I move, I’ll mess up Shay’s art.

  "You like to draw?"

  Excitement lights his face. "I love it. Ms. Domingo says I’m the best in th
e class. I have to be the best, because I’m going to do tatts like my Mom when I grow up."

  "You want to be a tattoo artist?"

  "Yeah, I do! I’ve even used a tattoo gun before. Mom has three done by me."

  "I helped him hold the gun," Shay whispers so low Ben can’t hear it.

  "Well, apparently, he’s learning from the best."

  She shakes her head and wipes my skin and gives me a coy smile. Her cheeks are rosy as she looks down and continues.

  Guess I don’t need the ganja to deliver smooth lines.

  "Can I tattoo you, Morgan?"

  Now I see what Tryst was talking about, why he felt the need to have an excuse to leave. Because with Ben’s excitement, it’s hard to say no to that one without a good reason.

  "Ben." Shay wipes my skin and scowls at him. "What have I said about ganking my clients?"

  "Sorry, Mom."

  Gotta give the woman points for that save.

  She sprays me with some solution and wipes me down. Smooth but firm, and holds the mirror up against my chest so I can see her outline. Well, what do you know? The kid’s not blinded by love. Shay did a great job.

  "The next part is up to you." She takes the needle she outlined with out of her gun. "We can finish the color tonight, which will take another hour and a half. Or you could come back in a week or two depending on your scabs and we can finish the color then. I only ask because we are an hour and fifteen minutes in and you might need a break."

  It was that long? No way. Sure enough, the clock on the wall reads two in the morning.

  "I’ll be done with Wiley in fifteen." Bebe doesn’t even glance up from her chair.

  Lina, Bryan and Tryst are already gone and his station is dark. Those fuckers didn’t even say they were out.

  On one hand, I don’t want to leave. I enjoyed my time with Shay and Ben. The burning sting from her gun hardly phased me. But it’s late, and the kid needs to go to back to bed. "Yeah, I’m ready to call it a night."

  "Aww..." Ben whines from beside me. "I was almost done with my picture. You coulda strung it out some more."

  I laugh. It’s hard not to. The kid’s too damn cute. "Why don’t you finish it the next time your mom works on me? You can sit and talk to me some more."

  Ben nods. "Okay. But you have to come tuck me in."

  Whoa. I snap my head back. What do I say to that?

  Shay's cheeks are red. "Ben, go kiss your aunt Bebe good night. And don’t–"

  "I know, Mom. Startle her or bump the gun." He jumps up and runs to Bebe.

  Shay turns off her machine and dresses my wound. "Sorry, about that. He gets a little carried away sometimes, especially when guys pay him attention. His father isn’t around so—" Her cheeks brighten again.

  Damn. “So…your boyfriend ignores him then?”

  “I don’t have one.” She takes a deep breath and tosses her ink caps in the garbage.

  Score. I smile. "He’s a great kid.”

  She smiles back at me and hands me my shirt. "Let’s ring you up."

  Following her to the counter, I shrug on my shirt as I go. "For the record, I really did just have to pee earlier."

  She blushes again. "It’s one-sixty now and one-twenty when you come back."

  "I’ll just give you the two-eighty up front." I hand her my credit card.

  She swipes it and we wait for the receipt to print out.

  "You gotta come see my Nightmare Before Christmas bed." Ben’s in front of me, eyes wild with excitement. "It rocks!"

  "Ben." The tone in Shay’s voice is all warning and he ducks his head.

  It’s not the kid’s fault. He thinks he’s made a new friend and wants to show off his things. But I know where Shay’s coming from. A man she just met and hasn’t had a decent convo with is not the man who she should let into her apartment, much less let tuck her kid into bed. Ben doesn’t understand that though. It’s cool the kid likes me that much, but I know it’d be crossing the line and maybe make me look a little creepy to her.

  I bend down so that I’m on his level. "Wicked cool slippers you have there, little guy."

  "I’m not little." He stares straight at me. "I’m a man."

  I chuckle.

  He laughs. "But yeah, they’re my favorite."

  Yawning, I don’t have to pretend for dramatic effect. "I would love to see all the cool stuff you have, but I’m kinda tired from the tatt. I need to go home. Maybe when I come back? If that’s all right with your mom."

  I eye her up. Her arms are across her chest showing off her perfect breasts. She cocks a brow and bites her lip. Yeah, I’m definitely going to make sure I take her out before our next session.

  Ripping the receipt from the machine, she hands it over with a pen. "Ben, go put your chair back where it belongs. I don’t want your uncle Tryst tripping over it when he comes in. You know how clumsy he is."

  Ben giggles. "Uncle Tryst is really funny."

  "I bet he is." Actually, this is news to me. Tryst doesn’t strike me as a guy who acts goofy for a kid’s benefit.

  "Goodnight, Morgan." The kid hugs me.

  Awkward. Not because he’s a kid. I have a niece who’s a little older than him that I help take care of all the time. But his mother Shay looks really embarrassed that her son has hugged a perfect stranger. I need to have a talk with this kid about the dangers of people he doesn’t know, maybe with our next session. I hug him anyway. I don’t want to hurt the kid’s feelings. "You be good for your mom and go put the chair away. And if she tells me you were good, I’ll think about letting you tatt my ankle."

  "Yay!" He bounces up and down. Shay’s going to have a fun time putting him to bed. "Night, Morgan."

  I rub his mop of black hair. "Night, kiddo."

  Shay watches him cross the room as she hands me my slip to sign. "I appreciate you being nice to Ben. But you don’t really have to let him tatt your ankle."

  "Doesn’t bother me. Think of me as practice for him." I laugh.

  She’s not laughing. Shit. Did I cross the line? The scowl on her face says I did.

  “Tatts should tell your story. The way I look at it, his tatt will remind me of a great kid and the night I got to spend with his amazing mother."

  Her jaw drops. There’s that face again, the one I like to see.

  Taking one of her business cards from the stand, I smile at her, wink, and head for the front door. Surprisingly enough, my nerves are gone. I didn’t need ganja to get me through this. I did just fine on my own.

  Seven

  Shay

  The snow is falling fast outside my windshield. They’re calling for a blizzard and asking people to stock up on supplies. I hate the winter and the snow, but Ben loves it. School will probably be canceled tomorrow as it was today, and I can already hear his scream of excitement in my head. It does nothing to chase away the dread I am feeling as I navigate the winter-washed road.

  I should be happy that they postponed the hearing. It means he’ll be in prison until his next one. Great, there goes another two weeks of having to worry about him being released to the public. Free to come back into my life again and destroy it. They lost some of the paperwork and his lawyer couldn’t be there. I’m sure Gary is stewing with anger in his cell. That should give me some relief. It doesn’t.

  My phone rings.

  Glancing down, it’s Tryst. "Yeah."

  "Hey, Shay. Are you keeping the shop closed for a couple of days?"

  "Yeah, I am." I give him a sarcastic laugh. Like anybody is going to want to get a tatt in this kind of weather.

  "Good. We decided to stay longer."

  Yesterday Tryst went snowboarding with Morgan and Wiley. He said Wiley’s dad had a cabin and they were only going for a night. It’s a chance for them to bond before they go on tour. I think it was Tryst’s way of feeling his new friends out, making sure they aren’t the kind of band members who party with drugs. He, like me, keeps drug addicts at a distance. Yeah, it sounds judgmental, but we r
eally aren’t. We just don’t want Ben around that.

  "You must be having a good time then."

  "Yeah, they’re actually pretty cool."

  "Okay, have fun."

  "Keep an eye on Bebe will, ya? She’s stubborn and will drive in anything."

  I keep my mouth shut about being on the road. He’d flip if he knew I was driving in this shit. Since we live in the ghetto, I never let Ben play outside. He was so depressed about not being able to go out in the snow, I solved that problem by taking him to a sled hill I used to go to as a kid. It’s about fifteen minutes from the ski lodge Tryst is at. We had a blast all day and now I want nothing more than to get home before the blizzard hits.

  "Gotcha. Bebe, no driving." Why does he care about Bebe’s safety? "What’s going on between you and her?"

  "Oh, I got to go. The guys are yelling at me. See ya Thursday." He hangs up.

  "Mom." Ben smiles at me through the rearview mirror. "Can you put on Avenged Sevenfold?"

  Smiling because my son likes the music I love, I put on Afterlife then carefully turn onto the long country road that will take us to the freeway. M. Shadows’ scream fills the car and Ben sings along with the lyrics. He knows this song by heart. Would he be as enthusiastic if it were Morgan’s band I was listening to? Need to see if Tryst can get me a demo CD. It’d be nice to have his voice in the car on a long drive.

  And…there I go again. My mind wanders to a tall, sexy man with ice-blue eyes. I can’t get Morgan off the brain. Him on stage, singing as though he was always meant to be there. The look he gave me. I shudder, remembering his stare. It wasn’t meant for me, but for the crowd.

  Still, I can’t stop the visions from Saturday night at my shop. They blast on repeat. The way he was toward Ben, all accepting of him. He’s great with kids, but that could’ve been a front. If I were a different person, if I didn’t have a kid to worry about, I might try to hook up with him. But Ben’s feelings are more important to me than some one-night fling with a sweet, sexy guy.