Chapter 12

 

Ava

 

 

MY STOMACH DROPPED. Had he figured it out? He looked so serious, it made me wonder.

“What do you mean?” I asked, forcing a smile to my face.

“You look a skittish about getting inked. If I’m going to put my time in, I want to make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons, so you won’t regret it later.”

I relaxed. “Oh.”

“Now, tell me why you’re considering this,” he said, staring up at me.

I explained that I wanted to honor my brother and thought a tattoo sounded cool. “He died last year,” I explained, noticing Hollywood was wearing a Gold Vipers vest with the word “Prospect” on it. I knew it meant that he wasn’t an official club member and realized that he might not have been around when Andrew had been murdered. The thought made me a little bit more comfortable, although the other gal had been right. He was a hunk. In fact, Hollywood was a work of art himself. Tall and muscular, with blond hair buzzed on the sides and long on top, a five-o’clock shadow that was edging more into six p.m., and eyes the color of the sky on a clear day. To be perfectly honest, he was as hot-as-sin. And I say sin, because I found myself responding to his hotness, which I knew was wrong on so many levels.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his eyebrows knitting together. “That couldn’t have been easy. Were you close?”

“We were. A long time ago,” I replied, shifting my gaze. The guy was watching me with an intensity that was unnerving.

“Okay. So… where do you want it?”

I turned sideways and touched the back of my right hip. “I was thinking I’d like it here. Something small with my brother’s name near it.”

“I thought she should get one that runs all down her side,” called out Devon.

He tilted his head and stared at my hip. “But, you just want something small?”

“I guess it depends on the design,” I replied, imagining him leaning over me while I was half-naked. I’d seen some of the tattoo shows on cable and knew it would take hours to complete. I also knew it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. But, it would give us time to talk about the club, and the more I knew, the better.

He opened up the portfolio and began sifting through the pages. “Was there anything in here that caught your eye?”

All of the artwork had been impressive, but there’d been one I’d particularly liked. I showed him. The dragon was red with blue spikes and claws. The details were incredible enough that I imagined it had taken him hours to complete.

“So, it’s the colors you like?” he asked, still all businesslike.

“Yes, plus I love all of the details. I’ve never seen anything like it,” I said and began pointing out the areas that really impressed me.

Nodding, he closed the book. “Okay. Just so you’re aware, every design of mine is original, but it helps to get some ideas on your preferences. Like, the colors that attract you the most and what kind of a feel you’re going for. From what I’m gathering, you want a fierce looking dragon?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

He grabbed a sketch book from the counter and flipped it to a blank page. “What about colors?”

“I like purple and blues. Maybe some green, too.”

He nodded. “Sounds good. I actually have some ideas on where to place your brother’s name, too.”

“Cool.”

Hollywood looked up from the sketch book. “We just need to figure out the size.”

I looked down, imagining a sleek, colorful dragon on my hip and thigh. It wouldn’t just signify the love I had for my brother, but what lengths I was willing to go for the people I cared about. It would be a sign of loyalty, justice, and retribution.

But did I really want someone associated with the gang who had been responsible for my brother’s death doing the tattoo? Wouldn’t I always be reminded of them when I looked at the tat?

I glanced up at Hollywood. He was staring at me, hopeful and handsome. I flicked my gaze down at the Gold Vipers patch on his chest, then back into his icy blue eyes. He just didn’t seem like the type… but then again, what did I know? There was no turning back now, though. This was for Andrew anyway.

I nodded. “Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” he said.

“Yes. I want it big and long.”

Devon burst out in laughter

“Don’t we all,” drawled Red from her station.

Hollywood’s lip twitched.

“Did Mr. Serious smile?” Red asked. 

“Almost,” I replied, grinning.  

This produced a grin and a head shake from him.

“Good,” Red said. “You need to learn to smile more, Hollywood.”

Before he could answer, the door leading to the clubhouse opened and an attractive guy with jet-black hair, and an annoyed expression on his face stepped into the parlor. He also wore a Gold Viper cut with a patch that read Sergeant at Arms.

He was one of the higher-ups, I thought, stiffening up.

“Uh, oh,” said Red. “Here comes trouble. What’s shakin’ Brass?”

“The roof as soon as you kick off the party later, Gigi,” he replied with a wink.

She smiled. “You know I will, Brassy-boy.”

Smiling, he walked over to Devon’s station and said something to her quietly.

She squealed in delight and stood up. “Really? You’re serious?”

“Anything for you, Mama,” he replied.

She threw her arms around him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Let’s go make some more.” Devon was a big woman, but he picked her and threw her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. I suddenly realized that he meant to take her back for sex.

“Hey! Wait, I’m not done with Jimmy’s tat!” she cried, laughing as he turned on his heel to head back to the clubhouse.

Brass stopped and turned around. “Jimmy, you don’t mind if I borrow her for a few minutes, do you?”

“He means seconds,” Devon said wryly.

The man she’d been inking said, “No, man. Whatever you want, Brass. Take all the time you need.”

“You’re a good man, Jimmy. Her hand will be a lot steadier after I’m done with her,” he replied.

“Have a cigarette, Jimmy. I’ll be back before you put it out,” Devon said, looking up.

Gigi laughed. “You know, they do make pills for that.”

Brass slapped Devon hard on the ass, making her gasp. “You think you’re funny, talkin’ smack about your old man, woman? You aren’t going to be laughing when you walk back here sore from—”

“T.M.I., Brassy-boy,” Gigi interrupted. “This woman isn’t getting any, so I don’t want to hear about something I’m missing.”

“Len’s available,” he replied. “You know he likes you.”

“Not as much as he likes the ganja. I’ll pass,” she replied.

“His loss. Hey, man. Looks like it was worth it,” he said, winking at Hollywood as he carried Devon past us.

I didn’t know what that was all about, but I had a feeling it had to do with me.

Not responding, Hollywood looked at me. “Make yourself at home.” He nodded toward the reclining chair and then turned his back to work on the sketch.

I sat down.

“You want anything to drink? We have bottled water, coffee, or soda,” he said, looking over his shoulder.

“I’m good. Thank you.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Okay.”

I looked around the parlor, wondering again what I was thinking. Here I was about to get a tattoo from a guy who belonged to the hoodlums who’d killed my brother. Sure, he might not have been involved with it directly, but he was tied to the killers and that made him just as dangerous.

Reminding myself that I was doing it for Andrew, I looked down and found a magazine rack next to the chair. I leaned down and grabbed a mag about tattoos. As I started flipping through the pages, the back door opened up again, and this time a group of five menacing-looking Gold Vipers stepped into the parlor. As they walked toward the front of the parlor, a couple of them looked my way.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” one of the men said, stopping by the station. He was thin and wiry with greasy brown hair and long sideburns. “You getting a tat?”

I cleared my throat. “I think so.”

“Where?” he asked, his roving eyes moving up and down my body.

“She’s not sure yet, Len,” Hollywood said, turning around. “You guys heading to the party?”

“Yeah,” he replied and then looked back at me. “I’ve never seen you around here before, sweet thing.”

“It’s my first tattoo,” I said, forcing a smile to my face.

“Nice. Fresh canvas,” he said, grinning. “Hollywood, you got yourself some virgin skin. Gotta love that.”

“Yep,” he replied, once again concentrating on the drawing.

“You know what they say about tattoos, once you get the first one, you’re hooked. You want to keep coming back for more,” Len said. “Kind of what the chicks say about me. What about you, beautiful? You seeing anyone?”

I wanted to tell him ‘yes’ so badly, but I knew it would be easier to get information from these guys if they thought they had a chance with me.

“I’m just getting over a relationship,” I replied instead.

“On the rebound,” he said. “Well, if you need someone to take your mind off of the idiot who let a beauty like you go, I’m your man.”

Hollywood grunted.

“I’m doing fine, but thank you,” I replied.

The door opened again and another Gold Viper stepped into the parlor by way of the clubhouse, which was attached to the parlor. I had to do a double-take as he walked by. 

“Hey, happy birthday, “Gigi said, turning in her stool to look at him.

“Thanks, darlin’,” the man said, smiling at her. “You stoppin’ by the party later?”

“I wouldn’t miss it, Tarot,” she replied.

“Good. I’ll save you a seat.” The muscular, dark-haired guy looked at me curiously and I quickly turned my head. He reminded me so much of my brother, it was almost eerie.  

“You comin’, Len?” the man asked.

“Yeah.” Len looked over at me. “Good luck with your tattoo. What was your name?”

I almost said Ava but caught myself. “Ah, Candi.”

“Mm…” he said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I bet you taste as sweet as your name.”

The thought of him tasting me made my skin crawl.

“Goodbye, Len,” Hollywood said sharply.

Chuckling, Len winked at me and headed toward the front door.

“Sorry about Len,” Hollywood said. “He sees a pretty face and can’t help himself.”

“It’s okay.” No, it wasn’t. Shudder.

I watched as the group of men left the parlor, still wondering about the man who looked like Andrew.