Taking The Heat (23 page)

SYDNEY

Life hadn’t really offered me a tremendous amount of significant choices. As far as I was concerned, life just kind of happened, and I was along for the ride. I do realize I had made choices in my life, and the repercussion or benefits of the choices were a result of my decisions, but I had never felt any of the decisions were the life altering ones.

I never in a lifetime of lifetimes would have guessed I would make such a statement, but looking at my life now, I wouldn’t change any portion of it if I were able. If I never would have been an orphan, I wouldn’t have been homeless, and if I hadn’t been homeless, I wouldn’t have met Cambio. Even my brother’s imprisonment brought Avery and I together as better friends, and without her, my life would be free of a having a girlfriend; something I now found essential to being a girl.

“If you can’t say it with a picture, it doesn’t need said,” the tattoo artist scoffed.

“You’re
Steve
, right? This is
your
shop, isn’t it? We are at
Hell Bomb
, right?” Avery responded.

“Yes, yes, and yes,” he said as he turned away from us and toward his station.

He looked like a younger version of Pete. He had a shaved head, tattoos down to his wrist on both arms, tattoos all over his hands, and a beard that went almost to the middle of his chest. Although he smiled as he spoke, he looked like he wouldn’t take shit from anyone, or be convinced to do anything he wasn’t comfortable doing, whether someone was paying him or not.

“Well, Erik Ead told Axton that you’d do whatever we wanted, and that you didn’t do stupid tattoos. And neither of these are stupid,” Avery said as she walked around the edge of the partition.

“Customers aren’t allowed in the shop unless they’re getting tattooed,” he said over his shoulder.

“Right, and you’re going to tattoo us,” Avery snapped.

“I close in like 30 minutes, I’m not about to tattoo shit,” he said as he looked up at the clock on the wall, “Who sent you?”

“Ead. Erik Ead.
Doc
Ead, rides a Big Dog Chopper, and has a new Street Glide Bagger. He’s a psychiatrist here in town, but he doesn’t practice. Rides in a club, it’s called, uhhm…” she paused and turned to face me.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Doc Ead? Big snake on his chest? Got a full sleeve on his right, and a half a sleeve on the left arm? Black haired wife, cute as fuck? Mouthy little bitch, uhhm, Kelli?” The tattoo artist asked.

“Yep, that’s him,” Avery nodded.

“Well, hell. What are you looking to get?” he asked.

“I want a tattoo of script on my left arm, on the back side of it. And so does she. Here,” she said as she handed him the piece of paper.

“Veritas Vincit,” he said as he looked down at the sheet of paper.

“Looks like Latin. And you both want the same tattoo?” he shrugged as he studied us both.

We both nodded our heads.

“Well isn’t that fucking cute,” he chuckled, “What’s it mean?”

“Truth conquers,” Avery responded.

“Hmm. Isn’t that the truth. Why this? You sure you want it. You know after I do it, you might have remorse, and there’s no removing it afterward,” he said as he glanced up at the clock.

“Look. My brother got stuck in prison for saying he’d kill someone in a rival bike club. It looks like they may have entrapped him, like
coerced,”
I hesitated and turned toward Avery.

She nodded her head and grinned.

“Yeah, coerced him to do it. Like forced him to make a decision he wasn’t going to make on his own. So, they gave him life in prison, and he’s in Big Sandy doing life, and I met Avery, and she said she’d file a legal motion, and she did. Now, well, now,” I paused and took a deep breath.

I was almost too excited to speak. After exhaling and collecting my thoughts, I pressed my palms into my thighs and continued, “The upper court, the
appellate
court…”

Avery nodded her head and gave me the thumbs up.

“The appellate court said they’d rehear his case. And her boss is going to try the case and he’s never lost. Not a single case. So now, my brother might get let out of prison. And I want this tattoo, I want it more than anything. Because in the end, the truth does conquer. It prevails,” I blurted.

“Hell’s Fury,” The artist nodded, “Club was Hell’s Fury?”

I nodded my head eagerly, “Yes. Yes, it was.”

“Remember when it happened. Fucking ATF pricks. Hear that Kevin? Remember when the ATF infiltrated the Hell’s Fury and set that guy up on conspiracy charges?” he asked over his shoulder.

Without looking up, a man to his right responded, “Sure do.”

“His sister’s in here. Looks like he may be getting a new trial,” he said over his shoulder.

I shook my head, “
Is
getting a new trial.”

“Oh, he is getting a new trial. ATF may have entrapped him. And the ladies here want
Veritas Vincit
tattoos to commemorate their…”

“Truth conquers,” the man said over his shoulder, interrupting the artist.

“You got it,” the artist said.

“I’ll donate one,” the man he called Kevin said as he looked up.

“Sounds good. You donate one, I’ll donate the other. Go lock the door and turn off the sign,” he said as he turned to his work station and opened a drawer.

As he began to dig in the drawer, I turned toward Avery and gave her a hug.

“If you mean donate in the donate sense, we don’t want a handout,” I said, “We’ve got money and we’ll pay you.”

“Well, it’s bad fucking luck on your part, I guess. Shop’s closed now, can’t accept money. But if you want this tattoo and want it done right, you’re at the right place,” he said as he fiddled with what I assumed was a tattoo gun.

“I do, and everyone says you’re the best,” I said.

“Arguable, but I’m right up there, huh Kevin,” he laughed.

“Bigger’n shit,” Kevin responded.

“I’m Steve, have a seat,” he said as he patted the large leather chair in front of him.

As I sat down, Kevin called Avery to his work station.

After Steve sketched a script onto a sheet of paper, he walked to a copy machine and returned with two copies. He held one in the air for us both to see, “Take a look at this. If it’s what you want, fine, if it’s not, say so. You won’t offend me, it’s
your
tattoo. I can draw different versions of this thing all night, but I want
you
happy with it.”

“It’s perfect,” Avery grinned.

“It is,” I nodded.

“Sure?” he asked.

We both grinned and nodded.

As he tattooed my arm, I sat in the chair and exchanged glances with Avery. I truly felt as if I now had a real sister. Not only were we becoming the best of friends, we would now forever be marked by the same tattoo, of the same script, obtained in the same place at the same time. It may mean something different to each of us, but the same event brought us together.

Win or lose, we would always be bound by our tattoos and our memory of her attempt at what she believed was conquering her feelings of incompetence. As much as I feared being let down from the cloud I was living in by another
guilty
verdict, I couldn’t wait to see my brother at a new trial.

If he was set free, my life, in all respects, would be nothing short of a modern miracle.

Within seconds of each other, the men finished our tattoos. After he cleaned it and wiped the area with a lubricant, he allowed me to go look in the mirror.

The script was perfect, and the tattoo looked amazing. I turned and studied Avery’s. Both were identical, and nothing short of perfection.

“Truth conquers, bitch,” Avery said as she raised her hand in the air.

I slapped her hand with mine and grinned, “I sure hope so.”

“If you two are happy, we’re happy. Good luck with your brother, and stop in and let me know how it went after it’s all over,” Steve grinned as he pulled off his rubber gloves.

I turned to face Steve, smiled, and reached into my purse, “You take tips?”

“Tips are always appreciated,” he nodded.

“Well, here,” I said as I placed two $100 bills on the counter beside him.

Steve held one of the bills in the air and waved it toward Kevin.

Avery shook her head as she reached into her purse, removing two $100 bills.

“Here’s your tip,” she grinned as she looked at her arm.

“Wow, thanks,” Kevin said as he accepted the money.

“You girls have a nice night, and tell Doc Ead I said hi,” Steve said as we walked toward the door.

“I will. We’re having a patch-in party in a few weeks, and he’s going to be there with several other members of the club he’s in. I’ll let him know. And thank you,” Avery said as he held the door.

“Fire and Iron,” Kevin shouted from the back of the store.

“Oh, yeah,” Avery chuckled, “That’s the name of it, Fire and Iron.”

As we walked to the car I looked at my new watch. If we hurried, we could still make it before they closed.

“I have one place I want to stop before we head back,” I said.

“Name it,” she said as she unlocked the car.

“The Humane Society,” I said over the top of the car.

“For?” she asked.

“I want to see if they have any puppies,” I responded.

“I love puppies,” she giggled.

“So do I. I’ve never had one, and I was just thinking maybe we could look and see if one’s perfect,” I shrugged.

“Well, we got perfect matching tats, maybe we can find the perfect puppy,” she said as she crawled into her seat.

I hope so.

But he’s going to have to be perfect.

Because his master sure is.

SYDNEY

“Well, these pups came from a place up by Winfield. There were several of them. We’ve had them in quarantine for three weeks, and actually just brought them out earlier today. Sadly, we had to put six of them down, but these are all up for adoption,” the helpful worker explained.

Avery and I both looked through the glass excitedly as two of the puppies fought over a piece of rope.

“Can we go in?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” the man smiled as he opened the door.

Two of the puppies continued to tug on a long length of rope. The room smelled like a combination of sawdust and shampoo. As we both stood by the door and watched, the two puppies growled and tugged while the others watched. After a few shakes of his head, the spotted puppy gave one last tug, pulling the rope free of the other’s mouth. Now running through the room with the rope in his mouth, the victorious puppy seemed very proud of his accomplishment. After half a lap through the room, the puppy tripped over the rope he was dragging and fell face first on the floor.

Avery knelt down and clapped her hands.

All of the puppies looked up, but only the spotted one reacted. He immediately stood up and came running across the floor toward us. As he got close to where we stood, he attempted to stop, and slid across the tile floor until he bumped into Avery’s legs. He looked up as if she was in the wrong.

Woof!
The puppy barked. Avery put her hands on her hips and stared down at him.

“Is that right?” she asked in a playful voice.

Woof!
He responded.

“Oh my God, he’s adorable,” I said.

“He is, isn’t he?” she agreed.

“So what’s your name?” she asked.

As if he knew exactly what she had asked, he sat down, stared up at her and opened his mouth. A loud croak-like belch came from deep within him. He almost sounded like a frog.

Or a toad.

I turned toward Avery.

“Uhhm, did he just croak? Like a Toad?” Avery said with a laugh.

“Sure sounded like it,” I nodded.

“Is this for who I think it is?” she asked.

I nodded my head, “Sure is.”

“I love his white markings down under his neck, he’s fucking cute,” Avery said as she reached down at patted him on the head.

As soon as she touched him, he flopped onto his back and rolled around in a circle.

“Oh my God, he’s…”

“Perfect?” she asked.

I nodded my head, lowered myself to the floor, and clapped my hands lightly, “Come here, little guy.”

He immediately flipped over onto his feet, tried to come running, and fell over after becoming tangled in a blanket. After a second try, he came running my direction and fell over intentionally at my feet.

As I scratched his belly, his back leg started shaking with every scratch. I looked up at Avery.

“Normal,” she sighed, “They all do it.”

“So, what do you think?” the man asked as he slowly pushed the door open.

“This one with the spots, I want him,” I said as I pointed down at the playful pup.

“The Brindle?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t know.
This
one.”

“His coloring, it’s called Brindle. Are you sure?” he asked.

I nodded my head as I reached down and petted the pup.

“Alright, let me get a crate for him and we’ll get him ready for you,” he responded.

“You’re going to put him in a cage?” I asked.

He nodded his head, “A crate.”

“A cage?” I asked again.

“Of sorts,” he responded.

“I don’t think so,” I said, “I want a leash and a collar.”

“Very well,” he nodded, “We have a store right over there where you can choose any you’d like.”

“See if they’ve got a Marine Corps one,” I chuckled, “If they don’t, get…I don’t know. Get a uhhm, get camouflage.”

As Avery walked toward the gift shop, I continued to pet the pup. I knew he was perfect based solely on the fact he croaked when he opened his mouth. He was a special puppy for a special man, and I intended to give him to Cambio on a very special day.

I just needed Avery to help me with one more thing…