Blurred Lines: Tattoo Romance (Bodies Ink and Steel)

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Blurred Lines: Tattoo Romance (Bodies Ink and Steel) Page 10

by Scott Hildreth


  “It’s healing nicely,” he said as he inspected my sleeve.

  “I love it. I figured she’d throw a fit, but my mom loves it too,” I said.

  “That’s good, you always want to keep your mother on your good side,” he said as he released my wrist.

  “So, you’ve never mentioned your parents. Do they live here?” I asked.

  He shifted his eyes toward the door and stared blankly at the entrance, his eyes narrow and his thoughts obviously deep. “No, they don’t.”

  I nodded my head. “Oh. How often do you…”

  “They died when I was young. I grew up in an orphanage for most of my childhood, but then went to live with a foster family for a while,” he said flatly.

  I felt like such a fool. I didn’t know anyone who was an orphan, and the thought of him being without a family made me feel sick. As I stood and tried to devise a way to console him, my eyes welled with tears and my throat began to tighten.

  “I’m. I’m, uhhm, I’m sorry,” I said as I reached for his shoulder.

  He continued to stare out the window, squinting his eyes as if he were still in deep thought. Slowly, he raised his arm, placed his palm over my hand, and turned toward me slightly. “Yeah, me too, I wish I could change it, but I can’t.”

  Everyone has secrets; revealing them is simply a matter of finding out where to dig. Blake hadn’t shared his parent’s death with me, and I guess I shouldn’t have expected him to. It obviously wasn’t something he intended to hide from me forever, but he more than likely hoped to hide it until he was ready to share it with me. Unknowingly, I had dug in the right spot.

  Or maybe the wrong spot.

  I wanted to ask how they died, but I didn’t dare. From time to time I had heard on the news about a family being killed in a car wreck, or a train colliding with a car on the tracks outside of town, but I never thought to think if there was a child who wasn’t with the family when it happened. I realized in the future as I heard of such events, I would wonder if there was a lone child without any other family to care for him or her, and whether or not they would become an orphan. The thought of it all began to consume me, and my stomach started to feel ill.

  I turned toward him, opened my arms, and hugged him. Based on his light pat against my back with his hand, it was apparent he really didn’t want to be held, so I released him. Feeling like a complete fool, I attempted to change the subject.

  “So, it’s almost lunchtime, want me to run and get some sandwiches?” I asked.

  He turned toward me and seemed to force a smile. “Sounds good.”

  The sound of the door buzzer caused me to glance up. An adorable girl covered in tattoos from her wrists to the sleeves of her tee shirt walked in, glanced around the shop, and slowly walked toward the wall separating the waiting area from the shop. Dressed in brick-red jeans that were tight all the way to her ankles, a Mr. Zoggs Sex Wax tee shirt, and sneakers, she sure didn’t look like a local. As she leaned onto the countertop, she tossed her purple-highlighted brunette hair over her shoulders. As I stood and admired her, I envied her slightly.

  I shifted my eyes from her to Blake, and back to her.

  “What can I do for you?” Blake asked as he approached the counter.

  “Name’s Stevie, and before you ask, yeah, it’s my real name. Just moved here from San Diego, and I was just wondering if you need any artists. I’m licensed in California, Oregon, and maybe still in Washington. Fuck, I don’t know. But anyway, are you needing any artists? I’m bad as fuck with black and grey and I specialize in new school and realism,” she said.

  Blake nodded his head. “Have you got a portfolio or anything?”

  “Hold please,” she said as she pulled her pack from her shoulder.

  After a minute of digging, she produced a book. She tossed it on the counter in front of Blake.

  “There you go,” she said.

  Blake picked up the book, flipped through the pages, and folded it closed.

  “All that’s yours?” he asked.

  She shook her head as she reached for the book. “No, I stole the shit online and put it in there, hoping for a job. I’ve really been working at Jack in the Box since 2010, and I wanted a change of pace.”

  Blake stared.

  “Yeah, it’s mine. You like it?” she asked.

  He nodded his head and grinned. “A thousand a month booth rent, due the first of the month, and not after. That buys your rent for the month following payment. I have an extra chair, two stools, and a drawing table back there, you’re more than welcome to them.”

  “So, you’re offering me a spot?” she asked.

  Blake nodded.

  “Fuck yeah!” she hollered as she thrust her hands in the air.

  She raised her chin slightly and fixed her eyes on me. “You work here?”

  I shook my head..

  “What? She your girl?” she asked as she shifted her eyes toward Blake.

  “Yeah, she is. Riley, meet Stevie,” he said.

  I took the few steps between Blake and me and stepped to his side. I held my hand out, and after tossing the book into her backpack, she shook my hand.

  “Bad-ass piece on your arm,” she said as she nodded her head toward my forearm.

  I tossed my head toward Blake and wagged my eyebrows. “Thanks.”

  She shifted her eyes toward Blake.

  “Your work?” she asked.

  “Sure is,” he responded.

  She turned to face me, held out her open hand, and grinned. “You mind?”

  “No, not at all,” I said as I extended my arm.

  She lightly held my wrist, inspected my arm carefully, and grinned as she released my wrist.

  “Good line work. Love what you did with the shading. It’s got great depth,” she said.

  “Appreciate it,” he said.

  “Like your hair,” she said.

  “Thanks,” I responded.

  “Well, come on back?” Blake asked as he motioned toward the shop.

  “Sure,” she responded as she grabbed her pack.

  I walked to the side of the partition with no other motive other than to inspect her tattoos. As she stepped past the edge of the chest-high wall and caught a complete glimpse of me, she stopped in her tracks and widened her eyes.

  “God damn. You’ve got a cute little ass on you, don’t you?” she said.

  I stood and stared, uncertain of what to say, if anything.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not gay and I won’t attack you or anything, I’m just saying. I wish I had an ass like that,” she said as she began following Blake to the rear of the shop.

  “Uhhm. Thank you?” I said as she walked away.

  “So, what’s a girl got to do to get an ass like that?” she asked as we stopped at Tyler’s old work station.

  “Genetics,” Blake responded.

  “I uhhm. I run on the treadmill,” I said.

  “You run on the treadmill?” she said with a note of sarcasm.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’ve surfed since I was six, and look at this fucker,” she said as she slapped her hand against her ass.

  “It’s cute,” I said.

  “Not like that,” she said as she leaned to the side and raised her eyebrows.

  “Well, here’s the spot. The stools, chair, and drawing table are yours to use, but if you leave, they stay here. I’ll give you two months before you must pay rent, but when you do, back rent is due, understood?” Blake asked.

  “Fuck yeah, I appreciate it. You won’t regret it,” she said.

  “Most shops open at noon. I open at ten. Close at nine. I’ll expect you here at your station when I unlock the door and here when I lock it up at night, whether you’re busy or not,” Blake said.

  “You can bet on it,” she said as she lowered her backpack to the floor.

  I was tall for a girl, or at least I always thought I was. At five foot seven, there weren’t many girls who were ta
ller than me. As I studied Stevie and made note of where the top of her head was in relationship to Blake’s arm, I decided she was more than likely five foot tall, and not an inch taller. She was well proportioned and had some nice curves, but she was just smaller than any other woman I had ever seen.

  “I don’t care what you charge hourly, as long as it’s between ninety and one-thirty,” Blake said.

  “With this cheap rent, I won’t argue. Charged one-fifty in SD,” she said.

  “Figures,” Blake said.

  “So how long have you two been together? You’re a cute couple. I just can’t get over your ass,” she said with a laugh as she shook her head.

  “Uhhm,” I said.

  “We’ve been together for a bit,” Blake interrupted.

  “It shows,” she said nod.

  Blake rubbed his hands together, something I hadn’t seen in several days, or maybe even longer. After alternating glances between us for a few seconds, he fixed his eyes on Stevie and stopped with the hand thing.

  “So, start tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll get my shit in here now if it’s alright,” she said.

  “Okay by me,” he said.

  “So,” Blake said as he turned to face me.

  “You want to just run and get something and bring it back,” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No, I’ll call it in. Maybe the Anchor, they deliver.”

  “Anchor sounds good,” he said.

  I liked the thought of Blake getting employees who were less abrasive than Tyler, but I wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable having Stevie working with him all day every day. She was far too pretty, much too outgoing, and a little more eager than I was comfortable with. Feeling slightly jealous, a little bit like I was in a competition, and like my ass was larger than she was leading me to believe, I turned toward her and smiled.

  “You probably don’t eat bar food, do you?” I asked.

  “I eat anything, why would you think that?” she asked.

  I widened my eyes slightly and shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know, I just figured because you were so tiny, maybe you were vegan or vegetarian or something.”

  “So, because I don’t have a nice round ass, I must eat bean sprouts or something?” she said with a laugh.

  “Something like that,” I responded.

  “I eat anything, why?” she said.

  “We were going to get something from the bar down the street, and I wondered if you wanted something. There’s a menu up on the refrigerator,” I said as I pointed to the rear of the shop.

  “Yeah, I’ll eat, thanks,” she paused, raised her hand to the side of her mouth as if preparing to tell me a secret, and leaned forward.

  I bent down slightly and glanced toward Blake as she continued.

  “Don’t worry, honey. I’m not after your man. I only fuck guys with big cocks, and then only if they ride a Harley. He doesn’t have a big cock or ride a HOG does he?” she whispered.

  I stood with my mouth hanging open and stared blankly at Blake.

  “I’m just fucking with ya,” she said as she slapped the palm of her hand against my shoulder.

  I forced a shitty grin and tried to decide if she was being truthful or playing around.

  “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” she said.

  “Thanks,” I responded.

  I watched as she unzipped her pack, dumped it on the table, and began to rifle through the contents, which were mostly sketches and books. After a few minutes, everything was in neat piles, and she walked toward the refrigerator. A quick glance at the menu, and she walked back to her work station and reached for a little black zippered bag.

  “Here’s twenty,” she said as she handed me a twenty dollar bill. “Leave the change for a tip.”

  “Uhhm. What do you want?” I asked.

  “Bacon cheeseburger,” she said as she slapped her hand against the side of her ass. “Maybe it’ll fatten me up.”

  I grinned, shook my head, and turned toward Blake.

  “Mac and cheese and a grilled cheese,” he said.

  “They have grilled cheese?” Stevie asked.

  “Yeah, it’s good,” I responded.

  “No, fuck it. I want the burger. I’ll get the grilled cheese next time,” she said.

  “Here,” Blake said as he held out his hand. “Let me go get it, you can stay here and talk to Stevie.”

  I eagerly handed him Stevie’s money. He called in the order, and after straightening up his work station, he said goodbye and walked to the bar.

  “He’s got a big cock, doesn’t he?” she asked as soon as Blake walked out the door.

  I stared at her with wide eyes, shocked that she’d ask such a question. On one hand I wanted to respond and tell her the truth, bragging about the size of his bulge. On the other hand, I wanted to say no, just to make sure she wasn’t interested in pursuing him. In the end, it got down to whether or not I trusted Blake, and although he had done nothing specific to gain my trust, I had no real reason not to.

  “It’s huge,” I said.

  “I fucking knew it,” she said as she held her hand in the air.

  I slapped my hand against hers and grinned. “How’d you know?”

  “I can tell. How he walks, how he carries himself,” she said.

  I nodded my head as if I knew what she was talking about even though I had no clue.

  “So, why’d you move here from San Diego?” I asked.

  “Got tired of being used as a punching bag,” she said.

  “Broke up with the ex?” I asked.

  “No so much. Left when he got tossed in jail,” she said.

  I nodded my head. “I left mine six months ago.”

  “Left your what?” she asked.

  “My boyfriend beat me up too. I left him,” I said.

  “Fuck yes,” she said as she held her hand in the air again.

  I slapped her hand. “Fuck yes,” I repeated.

  “What brought you here?” I asked as I pointed to the floor.

  “Oh here? Like Wichita?” she asked.

  I nodded my head. “Yeah, here.”

  “My mother. I was living in California with my father through high school. So, I just stayed there. My mother lives here, so I said ‘good bye, asshole’, and here I am,” she said.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re away from him,” I said.

  “I’ll use you as my inspiration. Maybe in six months I’ll be getting some of that big Kansas cock, just like you,” she said.

  “Maybe so,” I said.

  I turned toward the door as the buzzer sounded. Blake walked in carrying two bags. I glanced down at his crotch. There was an obvious bulge in the center of his jeans. It looked like he was sneaking a pickle in with the lunch he carried. I took a step back and watched him walk into the shop. With each step, his left hip twitched rearward slightly and his shoulder followed. It was something, until Stevie had mentioned it, that I had yet to notice.

  He had a certain element of swagger to his walk. She was right. Blake had a big cock and he knew it.

  And so did I.

  Somehow I needed to convince him to let me have it.

  BLAKE

  My life had been a series of ups and downs, never staying in one place for very long. I did realize I played a huge part in the peaks and valleys in which my mind resided, but maintaining an even keel was difficult for me, and even though I realized it was difficult for everyone else on earth, it was apparent it wasn’t equally difficult.

  I was different.

  I had always been different.

  I found comfort in Riley; what she offered me mentally, physically, and emotionally was unlike anything I had previously received as the result of human contact. Keeping her in my life would require consistency on my part, and being constant or living an unchanging life had never been strengths I possessed.

  Confused on how to proceed with life, but desperately wanting my time with her to continue, the answ
er came to me at an AA meeting. Or, at least what I believed to be the answer. Steps two, three, and four were exactly what I needed to apply to my life. I felt if I adhered to the principles of the program, progress was certain.

  There was no way millions of converted drunks could be wrong.

  “Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” This was easy for me. I had been trying to restore myself to sanity for some time, and had been rather unsuccessful. In fact, my way of doing things landed me in the very meetings I was using to attempt to correct my life. For me to believe God or a resemblance of God might be able to make changes for the better in me and my life was simple. I knew I couldn’t, so to believe he could wasn’t a stretch at all.

  “Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.” If I wanted the previous step to work for me, believing this step could be skipped or cast aside was impossible. I had never been a person to pray, go to church, or even discuss God, but I was now convinced my lack of contact with him just might have contributed to the emotional roller coaster my life had become.

  “Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.” After discussing the steps with an old timer, he explained the importance of performing this step. If I stepped out of myself and stood as a critical examiner of who Blake West was from a moral standpoint, I was disappointed with him. This step allowed me to become aware of the changes I needed to make in me to become the person I deeply desired to be.

  But first things should always come first, so I prayed for the ability to have eyes that could see, ears that could hear, and a mind that was able to discern right from wrong.

  I was now proceeding with life listening more, talking less, and at least attempting to be a man with a moral compass. As much as I admired Riley and her simple way of living life, I decided to follow her lead. I expected if I did, my life would become a mirror image of hers.

 

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