Gravity (Artistic Pricks Ink Book 1) (20 page)

After my first break-up, I thought the world was ending. Instead of letting me sulk, she took me couch shopping to buy the one piece of furniture she was most proud of, that neon green couch. I nearly died from embarrassment going with her to buy that ugly thing. Since she couldn’t agree on only one accent color, she bought one of every color throw pillow the store carried for it. Determined to make sure there wasn’t one color missing from our living room.

“All that color will give us headaches, Mom.” I say to her as we stand waiting at the register. “I can’t believe you’re buying that ugly thing. Who in their right mind buys a neon green sofa?”

“Nonsense Kionna,” she scolds, handing the salesman her card. “The world can be a sad, dark place if you let it. God isn’t always going to give us cloudless, sunny days. If he did, we’d never appreciate what we have right in front of us. Those darker days are when you need to push through and make your own sunshine.” Grabbing a bright yellow pillow from the counter, she tosses it at me playfully. “Hug it and tell me that it doesn’t make you want to smile.”

“Are you crazy? I’m not hugging a pillow in the middle of a store,” I argue, tossing it back. Hands on my hips, I roll my eyes in perfect sixteen year old fashion. “You’re so embarrassing sometimes. Why do I let you out in public?”

She smiles brightly, as she always did. As hard as I try to fight it, my attitude fades. My pure piss attitude turning into a giggle when she squeezes the pillow to her. Everywhere she went she was always lighting up the room. She would never understand that it wasn’t the color that brightened my days, it was her. You couldn’t be upset with her around. She just knew how to make everything better. Dancing over she hugs me tightly. “You love every second.”

Tears spill over my lids and down my cheeks at the memory. “I did love every second. I would give anything for just one more. That’s why I kept everything, even that ugly ass couch. I need you here to tell me this will be okay. That I will be okay, Mom.” Lying down, I bury my face into the cushions. Giving myself this minute to remember, to feel, to grieve for what I’ve lost. Crying myself to sleep, not one fucking tear that I silently shed is for anything in my house.

From the kitchen I can hear Kionna’s voice cracking as she talks on the phone to who I can only assume is her boss. Stepping around the stove, I see her curl into a ball onto the sofa facing away from me. She cries softly as I strain to hear the words she speaks aloud. I can barely make out what she is saying, but what I do hear is enough. She didn’t just lose her possessions. This isn’t about her safety, in her mind, either. Ki lost a part of her mother that she was holding on to.

Turning off the stove top, I move the skillet away from the heat, and go to her once I have noticed her breathing has evened out. Whimpering in her sleep, I pull her into my arms and carry her down the hall to the bedroom. Carefully, I settle her on the comforter and pull the quilt at the end of the bed over her body. “Please just tell me it’s all a bad dream,” she whispers, breaking my heart.

Kicking off my shoes, I decide food can wait and slip onto the bed beside her. Brushing the hair from her face, I use my thumb to wipe away the stray tears before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Settling my head on the pillow beside her, I watch her sleep. Realizing how tied to Kionna Slade I am already, I let my eyes close and silently promise that I will protect her from whoever is doing this.

***

“Aww, would you look how cute?” A female voice whispers causing me to stir.

“I don’t want to wake them up,” another voice says, making my eyes fly open.

“Well, you did. What’s up?” I grumble. Glancing down, I grin at Ki’s sleeping body curled against mine.

“I thought that’s why we came up here,” Leah says. “You said he had slept long enough.” Tearing my eyes from Ki, I look up at the girls arguing in the doorway. Leah’s eyes all misty, while Shelby just smiles.

“Sorry, Luke,” Shelby says, elbowing Leah in the side. “Don’t mind her, she’s an asshole.”

“As opposed to what, you and your bitch hat?” Leah replies, elbowing her right back.

Rolling her eyes, Shelby ignores Leah. “Luke, I wouldn’t bother you, but you’ve got an appointment in less than an hour. I waited as long as I could.”

“No, it’s cool. I’ll grab a bite and set-up,” I say, slipping from Ki’s body, missing the warmth of her immediately. Part of me had forgotten how good it felt just to sleep beside a woman, to feel the comfort that just the warmth can provide. It feels good knowing she slept comfortably in my arms after everything that happened. That she feels safe with me. “Will you two hang around in case she wakes up before I’m done?” I ask quietly, not wanting to wake her. “I don’t want her to think I took off, but she needs to rest.”

“Absolutely,” Leah replies with a nod. “We brought movies up, we’ll just settle in for the evening then.”

“Does this mean I’ll be getting paid to sit up here and watch movies while scarfing Leah’s baked goods and drinking your beer?” Shelby asks, lacing her fingers and cracking her knuckles. “That’s not in my job description, but I’ll manage somehow.”

“I’m sure you will.” Grabbing my shoes, I start to follow them up the hallway. Stopping, I turn to look at her sleeping on the bed. Her body curled into a ball beneath the quilt, brown hair fanned across the pillow behind her head. Even now, she’s fucking beautiful and I don’t want to walk away.

“Mitch is right, Luke’s got it bad.” Shelby says, drawing my attention.

“Since when do you talk to Mitch in any other language than insult?” I ask, stepping into the living room.

“I wasn’t talking to him,” she informs me, quirking her brow. “He was on the phone earlier with Chase.”

Yanking a hand through my hair, I blow out a harsh breath. “Shit,” I groan, imagining the interrogation I’ll get on my next phone call with my sister. “Fuckin’ Mitch and his gossipin’ ass. Worse than a woman,” I mutter, shoving into my shoes.

“Hey, as a woman, I am highly offended,” Shelby says, flipping me off.

Leah laughs and kicks off her shoes. Flopping onto the sofa, she takes the remote from the table, and turns on the television. “I’m settled in. I brought the baked goodness, someone needs to get me a beer.” Flipping through the channels, she squeals in excitement. “Hey, Shelby look! It’s that movie with those male strippers. Luke, you know how to twerk right?” She giggles, snorting lightly. “You guys could put in a pole downstairs and give us three girls a show.”

“There will be no twerkin’ while I’m workin’,” I mutter. Walking into the kitchen, I grab a sandwich from the counter and two beers from the fridge. Tossing them each a bottle, I shake my head when Leah’s face turns cherry red as the guys on the screen fucking hump the stage to the music.

“This is the best movie ever, why didn’t it win a Grammy?” Leah asks, using her t-shirt to pop the bottle cap off her beer.

“Because movies win Oscars?” Shelby laughs. Reaching over, she clinks her bottle against Leah’s before opening it. “Oh Leah, I love you and your brain lapses.”

“My what?” Leah asks in confusion.

Shelby looks to me as I reach for the doorknob, the look on her face has me biting back a laugh. “Exaaactly.”

“Take care of my girl, you feel me?” I ask, eyeing them both.

Leah and Shelby look at each other with huge smiles. “Aww!” They squeal.

“And on that note, I’m outta here,” I say, stepping out the door and closing it behind me.

Walking up the hall of the shop, I let the buzzing of the guns and the music piping through the speakers envelope me. It calms me. Everything about it makes me remember starting out at Big Dicks and how much fun it was just soaking in the environment of an artist. Each person in my shop has a cube up front’ their own section that is decorated by them with their own personal flare. Hell, even the front desk is all Shelby.

People may think it is crazy for me to just let the walls be painted different colors and not give a shit if they draw or mount canvases on the walls, but it is artistic expression mixed with advertisement. That’s how some people pick who they want laying their ink. They walk in here looking for a connection with the artist they choose. Therefore, I consider the walls their portfolio in a way. Kind of like a menu at a restaurant or a billboard on the side of the road. It’s unique to Prick’s, rather than flash sheets to look through, clients can scan the actual wall for the best fit for their style. It also adds to the comfort level, not just for the person receiving the tattoo, but the one giving it. No one wants a plain white wall setting to stare at for hours on end.

Everyone I hire is an artist, someone I would get ink from and display it proudly. If that weren’t the case, why the hell would I hire them? One day, my goal is to have a piece from each of them. I’m proud to have them, and want them to know they are like family to me. Therefore, this place isn’t just mine but theirs as well.

Skinner is at his station sketching on his nearly bare red wall. “Yo,” I shout, heading to Shelby’s desk to see if there are any messages for me.

“Hey,” Skinner calls, tossing up a hand my way. “How’s Ki?”

Charlie looks up from the woman’s back he is working on, curious as well. “She’s gonna be fine,” I reply. “Thanks.”

Tossing down his paint marker, Skinner walks over and leans on the counter. The colorful murals on his forearms lining up so you can read the words
Live everyday like you’re dying, or die knowing that you’ve never lived
. “Mitch said it was pretty bad.”

“Yep,” Sitting down in the office chair, I unwrap my sub and take a bite. “Won’t know for sure for a few days since the police aren’t done with it yet, but it’s pretty much a total loss inside.”

“Fuck, man.” Skinner runs a hand over his black stripe of hair. “That sucks.”

“More worried about her. Shit can be replaced,” I say around another bite. “The fucker that’s doing this isn’t gonna stop. Where’s Mitch?” I ask, looking over to his empty station.

“Said he had to get out of here for a while. You know, check on his mom then maybe get some sleep? He’s gonna bring you some shit from your place too,” Skinner says, with a shrug.

“Everything else here good?” I ask, making Skinner’s eyes widen.

“Seriously, do you not have enough shit to handle, man?” He asks, nearly making me laugh. “You are eyeball deep in business and life as it is. Add in the shit with Mitch and now everything going on with your girl, I say you’re good. Don’t go looking for more to add to your plate, Luke. You’re never gonna be able to finish what you’ve taken. We’re all here just waiting for you to let us take on some of the responsibility.”

“Yeah, okay. Point taken.” I shrug before shoving the last of the sandwich into my mouth. Standing, I toss the wrapper into the trash. “Going back to set up for my appointment. Show her back, yeah?” I call out heading down the hallway, thankful that my space is in the back away from everyone.

“You got it.” He calls out.

Flipping on the light I turn on my stereo and crank the classic eighties rock I love listening to while I work. Squinting my eyes, I try to adjust to the bright green walls Chase and I painted when I first opened the shop years ago. Once I adjust my chair to the right height for the table and get my gun ready to go, I set out the ink that I know I’ll need to finish the chest, hip, and rib piece I’ve worked over six hours on already in previous sessions, just as Skinner shows her in.

“Ready to finish this up, Luke?” Leanne asks, unzipping her hooded sweatshirt revealing only a black sports bra. “I’ve been jonesin’ for the sting all week.”

“I’ll bet, Leanne,” I reply. She is what I affectionately refer to as a ‘pin cushion’. She loves every aspect of the experience. To Leanne, the buzz of the gun, the prick of the needle… it’s all like coming home. Some people do yoga or play video games to relax, Leanne gets ink. “No irritation or swelling anywhere from last week,” I add looking over what I’ve already done. “Last session, think you’re up for it?”