Just as I start thinking about every inch of her body and what else I’d love to do with it, Marky comes in. He’s a regular. He’s retired and comes in here all the time just to hang out. When we remodeled a few years ago he even did half the work. He didn’t want to be paid, just wanted to be useful.
I gave him a free tat and we called it even.
I like that he comes in here just to hang out and keep us smiling. He brings a good vibe into the shop. Adds to the comfort of this place.
“Zane, Needles,” he says in a gruff voice as he sets down a carrier with four coffees. He’s got his own in his other hand. Trisha and Logan will be in soon to snag their coffees. Marky’s pretty fucking reliable for bringing in the morning brew.
Trisha wasn’t into it at first. She’s a picky broad. But Marky was determined to break down her walls and it started with getting her latte right, or whatever the fuck she drinks. Out of all of us, she opens up to him first when she has something she needs to get off her chest.
“Yes!” Needles grabs his cup and doesn’t even check the temperature before guzzling it down. I take mine in my hand, but I don’t like mine kissed-the-fucking-sun scalding hot like he does. I vent the lid, giving it a chance to cool off some.
“Thanks, man. What are you up to today?” I ask Marky.
“Not much.” Marky grabs his usual seat in the chair next to the counter. “Just needed to get out of the house this morning.” He lost his wife a while back. They’d been married for nearly forty years before cancer took her from him. I know it still hurts him to live in the house they'd had together since they got married. But the stubborn fuck won’t leave.
Can’t say I blame him, but I don’t envy him either.
“What’s new with you?” he asks. “You look too fucking happy for not having had your coffee yet.”
Needles snorts. “See, told you.”
I look between the two of them like they’ve lost their damn minds. “What the fuck?”
“Just saying, you’re not much of a morning person is all.” Marky looks at me expectantly.
“I can’t be happy?” I ask.
“Quit fucking around,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“Met a girl,” I say with my grin spreading into an all-out smile.
Needles laughs at me, and Marky cracks a smile.
“She’s that good in bed, huh?” Needles asks as he slaps my back and sets his cup down on the counter.
The smile leaves my face. I don’t wanna tell them I haven’t tapped that yet. But at the same time, some part of me also kinda does. There’s something about having to chase her that I fucking love.
“She’s not that kind of girl,” I say before taking a sip of my coffee, trying to play this cool.
Needles looks at me incredulously. “You’re hung up on a girl you haven’t even had yet?” Marky chuckles at him and leans back in his seat. Needles has no fucking room to talk. I don’t even know the last time he got laid. He's all talk, no game. So he can shove it.
“Fuck off,” I say. “She’s a challenge. I like that about her.”
His brows raise. “Ten bucks says she’s too good for you. Either that or she’s stuck-up.”
My jaw tics at his words. I don’t like either of those thoughts. I also don’t like that the first one is true. Yeah, she’s too good for me, but good girls love bad boys. So I have a shot. Even if she thinks she can get away from me.
“What’s her name?” Marky asks, snapping me back to the present.
“Madeline, but she goes by Maddy.”
“Madeline is the name of a bitch with a stick up her ass,” Needles immediately blurts out. He says the words confidently, and he’s real close to getting his ass kicked. I don’t like it. I don’t like how he’s thinking about her, and that it’s so easy for him to talk about her like that.
“Your fucking name is Cody. I don’t think you have much room to talk, you preppy jock, you.” Marky laughs at the two of us. Cody Lewinsky is as far from a jock as you can get. He’s lanky and goth as fuck. At first I wasn’t sure I’d like him, to be honest. And he didn’t talk much during our first session. Apparently, he doesn’t like other people inking him. Can’t blame him for that though, because I don’t either. As soon as I was finished with the first session and he saw my work, he started talking and hasn’t stopped since.
We bonded over our shared passion for tattooing and I really got to know him. He’s a funny guy, but real standoffish. I like the fucker though. And his art is on point and on trend. That’s what people go to him for, and it works out nicely for the business.
“Where’d you meet her?” Marky asks as Garret walks through the front door.
Garret Duncan is best described as Vlad's go-to henchman. He’s tall and classically handsome like Jackson is, but he’s fucking ruthless and coldhearted. One look at him and you can tell. What’s worse is the fucker doesn’t like me. He sees me as a threat because the rest of the mob is too fucking scared of me beating their asses to fuck with me.
I’m no threat though. I have no intention of being any more involved with the mob than I already am. I don’t want to be Vlad’s lapdog. But Garret does, and he thinks everyone’s a threat to that goal. I’m just waiting for the day he steps up, thinking he can take me. I’ll be ready though.
“Garret!” Needles calls out as he walks toward us. “It’s in the back.” He keeps his voice even, but he’s tense. No one fucking likes Garret being in here. But once a week he comes to get the cash.
It’s a necessity. An unfortunate one.
As Garret walks past us with a simple nod and not a single word said, I see Trisha walking toward the front door. She spots Garret and does an about-face. She fucking hates him. Trisha is short and petite, doesn’t have an ounce of muscle on her. She also doesn’t have any visible ink on her either. She’s tatted up though. She’s got a UV tat on her back. It’s fucking gorgeous.
When people come in, they’re surprised a cute little thing like Trisha is an artist. She went to school for ballet, for fuck's sake. She’s an artist through and through. And she’s damn good at her techniques. Her specialty is in unique tattooing methods. She doesn’t work much because of it, but she’s happy with that.
Trisha can be a strong force when push comes to shove, but she’s a smart woman. She avoids conflict whenever possible. And for her that means staying away from Garret, and the rest of the mob for that matter.
She’ll come back when he’s gone, I’m sure. I feel for her though. She’s a damn good artist and a real sweetheart. I hate that I put all of them through this shit. But I’m firmly under Vlad’s thumb. There’s nothing I can do to change this shit. Maybe someday if Nikolai ever takes over things will be different, but I'm not holding my breath on that one. Not with Garret in the picture.
“So?” Marky asks, and it takes a minute to remember what the hell he’s talking about.
“So what?” I ask.
“The girl, Maddy?”
The tight feeling in my chest lets up and an asymmetric grin slips into place. I can’t fucking stand Garret being in my shop, but I can get the fuck over shit I can’t change. I don’t let things I can’t help keep me down. If I did, I’d be one real miserable fucker. Besides, we're used to this. It’s coming on four years now of this routine. It’s easier to just ignore it.