Chapter twenty-four

Theo

Since Max didn’t work Sundays, I had the shop to myself. He’d stopped trying to convince me to take the day off years ago. Sundays were for families, and I didn’t have one. I’d rather leave early whenever I needed and start late the other days I worked. I reserved Sunday for custom work that required long chunks of time and focus. These tats weren’t cookie-cutter hearts or Chinese symbols. Most required several rounds of sketches and lengthy discussions with the client. In other words, the most artful.

Mr. Snuggles’s biker dad had come through with multiple referrals for this type of work. Today’s was a challenging piece for a guy who called himself Phoenix.

“These are always tricky,”

I said, running my hand over his marred skin. The burn scar wrapped around his entire forearm and looked older than the ones I usually covered, more faded. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you decide to cover it now?”

“I lost my kid sister Lacey in the fire that did this,”

Phoenix said, pointing to his arm.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “It felt wrong to cover it. She was gone and I’d survived. The scar was proof of that. But the other day, I was taking my daughter to the park, and we passed a stained-glass window. She called it a ‘princess window’ and kept walking. I couldn’t move my damn feet. Lacey’s favorite Disney princess was Belle. She watched that movie over and over. There’s a part at the beginning and the end where the story is told in stained glass. Have you seen it?”

I nodded. Max’s girls loved the movie and had watched it in the shop more than once when they came to work with their dad.

“I realized I didn’t need proof of how Lacey died; I needed to honor how she lived.”

Phoenix opened the manilla envelope he’d brought with him and handed me a photo of a little girl holding an older boy’s hand. The girl had lively brown eyes and waist-length hair. She looked straight at the camera while the boy looked down at her with an adoring smile.

“She’s beautiful,”

I said. I couldn’t imagine having kids of my own after losing someone so young. The fear Phoenix must carry with him every day would paralyze me.

“Can you draw us like that but like we’re part of a stained-glass window?” he asked.

I saw the image clearly in my mind. Complicated work with smooth skin, but infinitely harder on a scar. I glanced at his arm again. There was enough room, barely.

“It’s difficult to ink over scar tissue, but I get why you want it there. Give me an hour or two to draw it up. It’ll take a couple sessions, but we should be able to nail down the design today and maybe do the outline. Mind if I snap a picture of your arm and take some measurements? I want to get this right.”

“Of course. Big Tom was right about you. You know, a lot of people would have laughed at him for that cat tattoo.”

“Grief is grief,” I said.

He nodded and cleared his throat. “Well, take however long you need. Just text me when you’re ready.”

After I measured his scar and took several pictures, I lost myself in the sketch. I made a copy and played around with different shadings until the bell over the door rang.

I looked up expecting Phoenix had come back early. Instead, Aries walked in with a girl who didn’t look old enough to drive, let alone hang out with a man in his early twenties.

“Theo,”

he said, wrapping his arm around the girl. “Heard you moving around down here and figured you could help us.”

Aries and I hadn’t spoken much since Poppy and I got together. Judging by the glares he sent my way Friday, I assumed she’d called him and broken their date. I didn’t feel like hashing it out with him, and apart from the occasional side eye, he didn’t seem inclined to talk about it either.

“My girl Sarah here wants some ink.”

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,”

I said, pointing to the sketch on the draft table.

“It won’t take long,” he said.

Sarah held up her phone to an image of what had to be the most boring tattoo I’d ever seen. “I saw Aries’s zodiac tat, and I want one of mine. I’m a Sagittarius, so it’s just an arrow with a cross on the bottom. Nothing too thick. All black is fine.”

“I’d do it myself,”

Aries said, “but I promised Max no more tattooing until I get a license.”

“Look,”

I said. “I’m happy to do that or something Sagittarius-inspired tomorrow, but I’m working on a pretty complicated design right now.”

“You said this guy would do it,”

Sarah whined.

“Come on, Theo,”

Aries said, glancing over at Sarah. “You owe me.”

Kid wanted to get laid, and since I’d already cock blocked him once, I nodded. “But just a simple design.”

“Yay,”

Sarah said, jumping up and down. Despite her heavy makeup and low-cut shirt, she looked dangerously young.

“I’ll need your ID, Sarah,” I said.

“Oh sure,”

she said, digging in her bag. She pulled out a loose ID and handed it to me. “I went blonde after that was taken,”

she said. “And, um, lost a little weight.”

The ID looked real, and the picture resembled Sarah. It had her name and an October birthday that made her nineteen, but something didn’t feel right. I looked up at her and frowned.

“For fuck’s sake, Theo,”

Aries snapped. “This isn’t even her first ink.”

Sarah pushed up the sleeve of her oversized sweatshirt and showed me a cursive A.

“What does the A stand for?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Aries of course.”

“How long have you two known each other?”

“Long enough to mark her as mine,”

he said, eyes cold.

So, long enough he shouldn’t have been trying to start something with Poppy.

I glanced at the ID again and handed it back to Sarah. “I need you to set up Max’s station and sterilize it after,”

I told Aries. “I don’t want my client to wait longer than he has to.”

“Sure,”

Aries said, heading for the supply closet.

“Where do you want it?” I asked.

“At the base of my neck,”

she said, lifting her dirty blonde hair.

At least she didn’t want it on her tits or ass. After she signed the consent form, I led her to Max’s station. Sarah held Aries’s hand and cried the entire time I worked on her. I had to wait for her to take an absurd number of selfies in front of the mirror before she’d let me bandage her up, but all in all, I only lost about a half hour.

“Go over the after-care instructions with her,”

I said, snapping off my black disposable gloves. “I’ve got to finish my sketches for my client.”

“Yeah, no problem,”

he said, grabbing Sarah’s hand. “I’ll be back later to clean Max’s station.”

“Aries,”

I called after him, but he didn’t stop. He snagged one of the after-care printouts from the counter and pulled Sarah through the door.

I wouldn’t have charged them, but a thank you would have been nice. Not to mention there was no way in hell I wasn’t sterilizing Max’s station since I couldn’t be sure Aries would.

After I cleaned up, I spent another fifteen minutes adding subtle white shading around Lacey’s head on one of the sketches. I had several memorial tattoos of Logan. Some obvious. Some not. I’d leave it up to Phoenix to decide which he wanted his to be.

I held out the finished sketches. I always knew I’d gotten something right when it hurt to look at it. Every memorial I did felt like a punch to the chest. It’s one of the reasons I’d gotten a reputation for doing them well. I could empathize with my clients, but that also meant reliving my own grief. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about Logan, but some days were harder than others. I could count on a nightmare or two tonight and an extra punishing workout tomorrow morning.

I grabbed my phone to let Phoenix know I was ready and found a text from Poppy.

Mind if I stay over tonight?

Wrapping myself around Poppy was a way better option than entering a grief spiral. I felt terrible for ruining our first date, but each orgasm I gave her after had boosted my damaged ego. Holding her all night and savoring her again this morning had assured me she still wanted me, despite witnessing one of the worst panic attacks I’d ever had.

I’d love it. I’ll be done here around six. I can grab takeout on the way or schedule a delivery

Either is fine since I’m already here. I’m working on something in the studio

Anything I can see?

Definitely

What are you in the mood for tonight?

I texted Phoenix and started setting up my station while I waited for her to reply. It took a minute but then my phone chimed again and again with incoming texts.

I’m really bad at sexting

Like, embarrassingly bad

If I sexted, you’d laugh at how bad I am, and I kind of want you to think I’m perfect

I laughed and called her.

“I’m not any better at phone sex,”

she said instead of hello.

“I’ve honestly never had phone sex, so I don’t know if I’m any good or not. I was wondering what you wanted for dinner.”

“Oh,”

she said. “Well, now I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t. I needed a laugh, and I still think you’re perfect.”

She was quiet long enough that I started to worry. “Something we don’t have to eat right away,”

she said finally. “That’s what I want for dinner.”

“Sushi or subs?”

“Like that’s even a question.”

“Two spicy tuna rolls and a California roll?”

I asked even though she’d gotten the same thing every time we ordered from the single sushi restaurant in Jericho.

“That’d be great. I’ll see you soon.”

“Oh, and Poppy, I’m down for whatever else you’re in the mood for.”

“You sure about that?”

she said with a heavy dose of sass.

“Absolutely.”