Chapter 10

 

Ava

 

THE DRIVE TO Minnesota wasn’t bad, although I did stop in Tennessee to rest. I checked into a nice hotel, ordered room service, and tried to sleep, which was next to impossible, especially with everything on my mind. So, I tossed and turned for most of the night, dreading what was ahead of me. A couple of times I caught myself wondering what in the hell I was even thinking, going out to Minnesota alone to take on the Gold Vipers. But then I pictured my brother getting shot and them grinning over his dead body. It kept me motivated.

When I did finally make it to St. Paul, I found myself stuck in rush-hour traffic, which was annoying as hell. Especially since I was new to the area, the car really was a piece of shit, and I was nervous as all hell. Eventually, I found my motel, a seedy one near a tattoo parlor the Gold Vipers were said to frequent. After thinking long and hard on the matter, I’d decided to bite the bullet and get a tattoo. It wasn’t anything I’d ever imagined doing, but if it helped to get me closer to the club, then totally worth it in the end. Plus, whatever I got would be a tribute to Andrew.

My first night in town, I planned on taking it slow. I would visit the parlor, inquire about getting a tattoo, and see if it was true about it being a Gold Viper hangout.

After checking into the motel, I got to work. First, I changed into a pair of lacy white shorts and a black Harley Davidson tank. I then teased, fluffed, and spritzed my hair with hairspray until I looked like I belonged in an eighties rock video. From my research, it appeared that one-percenters, especially, preferred women with big hair, big boobs, and small brains. I’d been in show business long enough. The part wasn’t hard to play.

Easier to control, I mused as I shakily applied dark eyeliner to my lids. As I concentrated on getting the line straight, I prayed that I wouldn’t prove to have all three myself. Back home, I’d felt confident and courageous. Now I was trembling so badly, I could barely keep the liner straight.

After a few swear words, I finished up my makeup and put on a pair of black Converse Chucks for an easier getaway because… one just never knew. Heels would have been sexy, but stupid as hell. I decided that if they weren’t impressed with the package above the high tops, then it wouldn’t matter anyway.

I kissed my lucky necklace for good luck and then stared into the mirror at the stranger looking back. In my line of work I was used to makeup and costumes, so it wasn’t anything new. What I wasn’t used to was being in charge of the transformation. Fortunately, I had to admit, I’d aced it.

I checked my ass in the mirror, grateful I’d been doing extra squats and leg lifts at the gym, and then finished my disguise with a spritz of perfume. It was new and smelled like candy, which is what I’d decided to call myself.

Candi.

I popped a piece of gum into my mouth and smiled at the mirror.

“Hi. I’m Candi. With an ‘I’,” I said, in my version of a bubble-headed bimbo. I cracked my gum and smirked. Maybe I should have gone into acting?

 On my way out, I slipped a small bottle of tequila into my purse, knowing that I might need a little liquid courage.

 

DEVON’S TATTOO PARLOR was seven blocks away from the motel. I drove, mainly because I didn’t want to be mistaken for a prostitute with what I was wearing. 

Although it was just past eight, I noticed that the streets were already filled with shady-looking guys hanging out on street corners, and women strutting around in heels and eyeballing cars.

Hookers and drug dealers. Awesome.

Noticing that the women were dressed less provocatively than I was, I had to chuckle.

When I finally pulled into the studio’s parking lot, which was located across the street from a strip club called Danny V’s, I noticed a row of Hogs lined up, and that’s when the panic set in. There was no doubt about it. I was in Gold Viper territory.

“Oh, my God… what in the hell are you thinking, Ava?” I whispered to myself, breaking out into a cold sweat. I stomped on the brake, feeling as if my heart was about to leap out of my chest. Trying not to hyperventilate, I reached into my purse, grabbed the bottle of tequila, and took a swig. The taste was horrible, especially without any lime or salt. Shuddering, I recapped the bottle, feeling the heat of the alcohol. It slowly began to do it’s job and calm me slightly. Blowing a curl away from my eyes, I cranked up the air conditioner and counted the motorcycles. There were ten.   

Knowing I must look suspicious idling there, I took my foot of the brake and found a parking spot, away from the bikes. I cut the engine and took another swig of tequila.

“You’re just getting a tattoo,” I said breathlessly, talking myself off the ledge. “There’s nothing suspicious or alarming about it.”

Knowing it would look a little strange if I didn’t do something soon, I grabbed my purse and got out of the car, leaving the tequila in the glovebox. Staring at the flashing neon sign, I mustered up some courage and walked to the entrance. When I stepped inside, music played in the background, a popular song from the White Stripes. Looking around, I thought the place looked edgy, but in a good way. It was also clean and smelled like disinfectant, which was a relief, considering I was getting a tattoo. There were no signs of bikers, however.     

“Hey, sweetie,” one of the gals called out to me, a busty woman with jet-black hair and tattoos sleeved over both arms. She was sitting down next to a burly-looking man and holding a tattoo gun. “If you’re looking for the party, it doesn’t start until ten and it’s across the street at Danny V’s.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Party?” I repeated.

“Club party, you know?” Her mouth formed a circle. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. Are you here for a tattoo?”

“Actually, yes,” I replied and smiled. “I’m sorry, should I have made an appointment?”

“We usually prefer it if you do,” she said. “But, we do accept walk-ins.” She looked up at the clock on the wall. “I just don’t know if we can fit you in for another couple of hours.”

“I can wait,” I replied quickly.

“That was hours, not minutes,” she said, looking amused. “You sure about that? Maybe you should just come back?”

“No. I’ll stick around. I’ve got nothing better to do,” I said, glancing toward two other artists working on clients, one a bald guy with tattoos all over his head, the other, a heavy-set woman with red hair. They ignored me and continued what they were doing.

“You know what you want done?” the dark-haired woman asked.

“I have an idea,” I told her.

“I’ll be right back,” she said to her client and stood up. She walked over to me and introduced herself as Devon.

“I’m… Candi,” I said, the name still so foreign on my tongue.

“It’s nice to meet you, Candi. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about this idea of yours?”

Devon reminded me of an amazon, especially with the heels. Not only was she tall, but it was obvious she spent a lot of time at the gym. Although my arms were toned from lifting weights, she looked like she could bench-press me without breaking a sweat.

“I want the name ‘Andrew’ tattooed on my hip,” I said, pointing to where I wanted it.

“Boyfriend?” she asked.

“No. He was my brother.”

“Ah. I was going to say, I’m not a big fan of inking names on a person unless it’s a family member or spouse. You said he ‘was’ your brother?” she replied, her eyes softening.

I nodded.

“I’m sorry for your loss, sweetie,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “And it think it’s really cool that you want to honor his memory by getting a tat.”

“Thanks.”

“So, do you want just his name or an image with it?”

We discussed different ideas until I heard her mention something about a dragon.

“That’s it. I want his name and maybe a small dragon.” Dragons were supposed to be brave and fearless. That’s how I wanted to remember Andrew.

She grinned. “I love it. You sure you want to go small with the dragon though? I have a guy who I bet can come up with something that will look both sexy and cool on the side of your hip.”

“I don’t know. This is my first tattoo,” I replied. I wasn’t even totally sure I was all in with a small one.

“Let me show you my guy’s portfolio of dragons. He’s kick-ass at what he does. The last dragon he did was incredible.”

“Okay.”

She turned around and grabbed a white binder from the counter. “I’m sure if you want a small tat, he can probably do that, too. I just think with a hot body like yours, a larger one would look super sexy,” she said, raking her eyes over my outfit.

“Uh, thanks,” I replied, wondering if she was into girls.

As if reading my mind, Devon laughed and handed me the binder. “Relax, Candi-cane, I’m not hitting on you. I’m just telling it like it is.”

“Thanks,” I said, amused that she’d called me Candi-cane.

She looked up at the clock. “I’m going to ask Hollywood if he’s free. I know he’s in back.”

My eyebrow raised. “Hollywood?”

She smiled. “Yeah, the artist. He’s my fiancé’s cousin. You’ll love him. All the women do.”

“Okay.” I chuckled.

I watched as she headed toward a doorway in the back of the parlor.

“Today’s your lucky day,” the red-headed artist said, looking over at me.

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded. “Double yeah. He’s a total hunk.”

“Oh, really?”

“You’ll see.”

Assuming he was also a Gold Viper, I knew things were about to get interesting.