SAWYER

1.

I tossed the keys to the table and gave one last look around. The studio apartment had served me well. The rent had been pretty cheap and the neighbors had been pretty loud. It had been home for a while and now it was going to be a memory and nothing more. I was leaving it all behind. The only thing I had was a bag packed with clothes and some pictures and other little keepsakes from my life. I didn’t need material possessions to feel good about myself. That wasn’t my style of living.

The plan was like any other plan I made. Just show up and figure out the rest later. If that meant crashing in a hotel near Hundred Falls Valley, so be it. If that meant renting a furnished apartment for a month to see how things would shake out, then that’s what I would do. I knew what my heart wanted, but the heart’s version of life and reality were usually two different things. That’s what allowed hearts to get broken so easily. A heart was a window with a beautiful view. Reality was a rock that could shatter the window in a second.

I left a note for Ryan, the guy who owned the building. He knew I was leaving and he promised to keep the place for me in case I needed it again. The whole beach town life was done for me.

As I got on my motorcycle and started it, I looked at my right arm. Ink covered from wrist to shoulder. But I knew right where to look. I touched my arm and smiled at my first tattoo.

The tattoo Kate had drawn for me.

* * *

2.

I rolled into my old hometown and realized nothing much had changed. Not that I expected it would. There were some developments on the outer parts but the town itself was the same. It made me smile as the ghosts of my memories played out on every street corner. Being a punk teenager, roaming the streets late into the midnight hour. The cops chasing us, trying to catch us to take us home. But we’d always get away.

The nights Kate would sneak out and come with me. Pushing her up against a brick wall in an alley and tasting her sweet lips. Kissing her harder and faster, letting her feel what she did to me. The temptation burning in her eyes. The way she’d bite her lip as a signal to me that she was ready. The flash of lights and the call of a police siren. The look on her face, realizing if she got caught she’d get in big trouble. So I’d grab her hand and we’d run together, the police hot on our tail. Her nervousness suddenly changing to happiness and a sense of freedom. The way her hair flowed behind her as we ran. Cutting to the right at the end of the alley. Me slamming into a garbage can and almost eating the ground.

Kate laughing and screaming my name to catch up to her as she broke away.

We finally got away from the police and I grabbed her and pinned her up against the next building I could find. And I swear… we kissed until the sun came up…

I throttled my motorcycle and waited for a traffic light to turn green. It did and I only had two more blocks to go. That’s when I saw the neon sign glowing with the St. Skin name. It made me smile to see that sign again. I had been following everything Tate had done with the shop. Seeing the online presence and the people who came from all around the world just to get tattooed there. Seeing the shop pop up on television shows. I even heard a rumor that Tate was working on a deal to get the shop an actual show. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that though. The tattoo shop was about being authentic. It was about finding that piece of art that belonged on your body to speak what your soul couldn’t say. I didn’t want that fucked up by scripts and producers and forced bullshit.

No matter what, half that place was mine.

I found a spot to park my ride and climbed off. I dropped my helmet to the back of the seat and curled my lip.

I was fucking home.

And nobody wanted me there.

* * *

3.

I opened the door to the shop and was hit with a few things. First off, the place was packed. People standing at the counter, people walking around looking at the walls. There was a wall with pictures of celebrities who had come into the shop. The opposite wall was of tattoo designs. And then there were people sitting, going through book after book of tattoo designs and pictures of tattoos the guys had done.

Music echoed from everywhere. That was the one thing me and Tate loved as much as tattooing. Music. Letting the artists choose the music they loved and allowing it to flow through the air and mix with other music to create the wild and unique sound.

I had to be honest with myself. The entire aura of the place had my heart racing. It was like I stepped into a different world. A world that I created.

St. Skin.

My fucking nickname fed the name of the place.

I noticed a woman standing nearby, biting her lip, as she looked at a picture of a rose.

“You like that one?” I asked her.

She looked at me, startled. She had clear blue eyes, almost like that waitress I had on the beach the night before.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

I offered my hand. “I’m Sawyer. People call me Saint. This is my shop.”

“Oh? I didn’t know that. You’re St. Skin?”

“The holiest of the holy, sweetheart,” I said with a wink.

Her cheeks turned red. “I, uh, like this rose.”

“Now, there’s one thing… when it comes to tattooing.”

“Okay…”

“A lot of us here follow this one thing.”

“Okay…”

I winked at her. “You can’t get anything out of a book.”

“Really?”

“I can tattoo that on you right now, but I want to make it unique. I want you to have a tattoo that nobody else has or ever will have. You ready?”

“Seriously?”

“You’re here to get ink, right?”

She swallowed hard. “I…”

“It’s your first one, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Lost my mother to cancer six months ago. Roses were her favorite.”

“Damn. I’m sorry. This is a great way to honor her. Where were you thinking about getting it?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she said.

I casually let my eyes run down and up her body. “You could get it on your arm. I can do something smaller on your wrist, ankle, or leg. But if you want my opinion… right here…”

I touched her right hip.

She jumped and gasped, closing the book.

“Shoot,” she said. “Lost my page.”

I took the book from her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I know what you want. Ready to do this?”

“I think so,” she said.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Jessica.”

“Jessica,” I said. “Come take a walk on the dark side with me.”

I slipped my hand to hers and started to walk toward the back of the shop. It was a ballsy move to make but it was still my shop. I could do whatever the hell I wanted to. And right now I wanted to tattoo this pretty woman. Her first tattoo and my first tattoo back in the world of St. Skin. It was like we were meant to meet today.

As I walked by room after room, one of the doors finally opened.

Out came a familiar face.

“River, brother,” I said.

He froze and his eyes went a mile wide. He turned his head, blinked, and looked at me again.

“Saint…,” he whispered.

I let Jessica’s hand go and put my hands together and bowed forward a little. “Just Sawyer now.”

“Sawyer,” River said. “What the fuck…”

“You busy in there?” I asked and pointed to his room.

“No. I’m working on sketches right now. I have three appointments today… what are…”

“I’m going to take Jessica in there and she’s going to get her first tattoo,” I said. “Okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” River said. “Does Tate…”

“Is this place always this busy?” I asked.

“Yeah,” River said.

“We need a bigger shop. More artists. You guys working on that?”

River’s mouth opened but he didn’t say anything else. He just stood there in complete shock.

I couldn’t blame him for that. I sort of left one random night and never came back. Until today. But now I was back. And that’s all that mattered.

“Come on, sweetheart,” I said to Jessica as I led the way into River’s room. “Let’s get you inked up.”

I took Jessica into the room and sat her down in the chair. I leaned it back as far as I needed and sat down on River’s stool. I adjusted it to my height and started to gather up the supplies I needed.

“Aren’t you supposed to draw it first?” Jessica asked.

I smiled, organizing the ink and getting the tattoo gun ready.

“I could,” I said with a grin. “But what’s the fun in that?”

“So you’re going to just…”

“Tattoo it,” I whispered. “Trust me, sweetheart. My name wouldn’t be on the sign if I didn’t know my shit.”

I touched her shirt and gently slid it up. I told her where I wanted her to hold the shirt and asked her to wiggle her pants down a little. I took notice of pink pair of panties and I reminded myself what I was doing here. She was terrified of the needle, the ink, and me.

I put on gloves and buzzed the needle a few times, letting her know I wasn’t going to just dive in. I touched her skin a few times to get her used to that wild sensation. It was a burning sensation but goddamn did it feel good.

“You good now?” I asked her.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Well, you can listen to music or you can talk to me.”

“I’ll talk to you,” she said.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

I started to tattoo Jessica.

It was my comfort. It was the only thing that put my mind at ease in life.

“Tell me about your mother,” I said.

“She was a great person,” Jessica said. Her voice was shaky. “She took care of me and my brother. Single mother. Did everything for us. Helped to put my brother through law school. Helped me through veterinarian school.”

“You like animals,” I said. “I like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely,” I said. “I don’t have any myself. Too much of a wanderer for that. But I’ve always wanted a dog. A loyal dog.”

“You look like a black lab kind of guy,” Jessica said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “See how this works? I take care of your tattoos and you tell me what kind of dog to get. We’re a good team.”

She laughed.

The tension eased a little, which was good.

I worked the outline of a beautiful rose as Jessica shared her heart. The story of her mother not feeling well one day and going to the doctor the next to find out she had cancer. And that led to a long road of treatments, sickness, good days, bad days, worse days, and her final days.

It was therapeutic to talk about it while getting the ink. Letting out the demons and the pain while getting inked as a reminder of what had happened. That’s why I loved to do this stuff.

When the outline was done, I wiped the excess ink away and gave a nod.

“Getting there,” I said.

The door to the room suddenly swung open.

“Need something, brother?” I asked, thinking it was River.

I turned my head and started to laugh.

It wasn’t River standing there.

It was Tate.