Mikey
Mikey sat at the back of his tattoo shop after hours, hovered over a new design. The drawing was taking more time than usual due to the overwhelming urge to glance behind him. Every couple of minutes an uneasiness settled in his muscles, making him twitchy, even though he’d bolted both the front and back entrances. He no longer blasted heavy metal music when he worked late. His cell lay within reach with 9-1-1 stored as number one in his favorites for swift dialing. Six months earlier he’d nearly been the victim of a serial killer. If it hadn’t been for Detective Harry Hunter, his future father-in-law, Mikey would have been as dead as his ex-wife Cynthia.
Someone knocked on the front glass door. He had set an interview for a new receptionist for after he’d closed tonight.
Mikey peeked around the red velvet curtain separating the back from the work stations. The guy waved through the glass door. The purple neon tubing around the large storefront windows tinted his face. He fit the description he was given, so Mikey gave him a stiff nod. The kid was Needle Ned’s nephew. He was giving the guy a shot at landing the job before he ran an ad in the paper. Before getting up from his stool, Mikey checked his watch and was already impressed with his punctuality.
Mikey sidestepped the only painted spot on the floor. He never walked where his blood stained the cement underneath. Touching his side, he remembered the fear and tightness in his chest. His death would have orphaned his ten-year-old son.
“You Cameron?”
“Cam. Yeah,” the guy said though the glass. Mikey opened the door and allowed Cam to scoot past him.
The interviewee shucked his leather coat and draped it over the receptionist counter and body jewelry display case. Ink covered one forearm and disappeared under his t-shirt. It appeared to be a full-arm sleeve, spanning shoulder to wrist.
“Ever worked in a tattoo shop before?” Mikey grinned. “I see you frequent them.”
“Not officially. I helped out at the place my Uncle Eric used to work at in California.”
“I didn’t realize Needles ever lived in California. Is that where you’re from?”
“Uh, I’m not from there, neither is he.”
“What brought you out there?”
“Music. It was great, then not so great. Eric suggested I come out here to get away from the glitz.” Cam snorted on the last word. “I never saw any glitz, though.”
“So music’s a thing of the past for you. That’s a shame. Were you any good?”
“I thought so. I’m pretty good playing guitar.”
“How long you plan on sticking around?”
“I’ve been here about two weeks. The talent seems viable.”
“Talent?” Mikey drew his brows together.
“Women.”
“So you don’t have any plans to leave anytime soon?”
“Nope. That’s why I need the job, so I can get off my uncle’s couch.”
“Well, if you’re looking, a couple of the stores in this strip have apartments above them for rent. One has a vacancy.”
“Does this mean I got the job?”
“We’ll try it out, yeah. Your resume’s decent. You can start this Monday provided you pass the background check.”
“Fair enough. I’m clean.”
Grace had insisted Mikey have all new employees screened. She was not only his fiancé but his accountant and business advisor.
They chatted for a few more minutes. Mikey gave him the landlord’s name and number then showed Cam out after grabbing his jacket from the closet.
“Thanks for the landlord’s number. See you Monday.” Cam waved and got into his car.
Mikey had a remote start installed, so when he jumped in his Ford SUV, it was nice and toasty inside. He shivered anyway. January sucked.
The sloppy streets made traveling home slow going. Normally the drive took twenty minutes, tonight it took damn near forty-five.
His son Brayden greeted him at the kitchen door. He always did that ever since Mikey nearly died. After seeing him safe, his son went back to whatever he had been doing.
Grace stood over the stove stirring a pot of chili. “How’d the interview go?”
“Good. He signed off on the background search. If all clear, he starts Monday.”
“Natalie said it’d be all right for Brayden to stay with her Friday night.”
“Good.” Mikey slid in behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
“Too bad, I’m not having a winter wedding.”
“We can go to Vegas.”
“Stop playing, I’m not doing that.” She smiled.
“It’d be over quick and it’s so cheap.”
“Exactly.”
Mikey and Grace had already booked their wedding at the mayor’s office, with a small reception at the only country club in Webster for July.
“Chili smells good.”
“Thanks, and it’s ready.”
“I’m ready too,” Mikey said, running his hands up her rib cage, palming her breasts.
Brayden cleared his throat from over by the doorway. “Seriously, you’re gross, Dad. There’s also an impressionable young boy living in this house, you know.”
“One day you’ll understan—”
“As much as I wouldn’t mind another kid around, I don’t want one that badly.”
Grace blushed and snort-giggled.
“How old are you again?” Mikey asked.
“Almost eleven.”
“Oh. That’s right, you’re eleven. Now go sit down at the dinner table.”
* * *
Right on cue Brayden fell asleep in front of the TV. Instead of waking him, Mikey laid a blanket over him and led Grace to their bedroom.
“I missed you today,” she said.
“Sorry to hear that. How can I make it up to you?”
“You have to ask how?” Grace stripped down to her bra and panties.
“How come you’re getting naked?”
She giggled. “How come you’re not?”
“Good question.” He pulled his black t-shirt over his head then shucked his jeans and socks, careful not to knock the clear bandage on his left thigh.
“What’s that?”
“What’s what?”
She pointed to his upper leg. He shrugged.
“I’m a tattoo artist. Did you expect me to stop getting inked?”
“No, just…” She looked at the floor.
“They’re magpies.” He removed the tape and cellophane.
“It’s like they’re flying around each other.”
“Like lovers?” he said, winking.
“Yeah. I love the colors. Blue, green, is that purple in there too?” Grace came closer and inspected the tattoo for a minute. “Okay, I’m done, take your boxers off.”
Mikey laughed. “Just like that, huh?”
“What part of ‘I missed you today’ didn’t you understand?”
“The part where you only missed my hot bod.” He fake sniffled. “I’m not just a pretty face, I have feelings.”
Grace smirked. “You’re such a goof.” She ran her hands over his pectorals and down his front. She latched onto the waistband of his Hanes and pulled them off. He helped her not drag the fabric over his new ink. A tattoo Needles didn’t do. The guy had a way of adding darkness to every design. There was a market for it, and he was a talented artist, but Mikey wasn’t a fan.
Mikey lifted her and she wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his hips. Grace fused their lips together.
His stiff cock nestled at the apex of her thighs, flush to her sex. She moaned, her lips vibrating against his. He laid her on the bed and settled between her legs.
Brayden knocked on the door and Mikey groaned.