smile.
“And… Done!” Joel announced sitting back and letting out a deep sigh. Claire sat up as much as she was able to without irritating her other fresh tattoos, squinting at the fresh one running up and down my leg.
“I can’t see it from here…”
“You’ll see it in the mirror. Fang, am I doing any work on you tonight?”
“Actually…”
“Shit, man,” Joel sighed, shaking his head. “I was fucking kidding!”
I ran my hand over an empty space on my neck.
“I want a needle here. Maybe dripping blood. Come on—how long will that take you?”
“Fine, fine…”
Joel changed his gloves, his inks, and the needle. In a few minutes, he had sketched something out and he was tattooing me. The itch and sting of the needle was comforting, strangely. Like an old friend.
Claire lay in a heap on the table, snoozing, her body finally having given up.
“She’s one hell of a trooper,” Joel murmured as he finished the black lines on my newest piece and began to start in with color.
“She sure is.”
“You fucking her?”
I sighed.
“I just gotta’ ask, man,” Joel laughed. “I know, I know… She’s a Fed… Hey, this basically makes me a government contractor. I should put that on my Instagram.”
“Hell no you won’t,” I growled. “Everything that happened tonight—you take to the grave. You’re getting twice your normal hourly rate, so you’ve just worked—what, two weeks in one night?”
“Man, I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m not going to say nothing to no one. I know how to keep my fucking mouth shut.”
He did. Joel was a good one. He finished up my newest tattoo, slathered it with ointment, and wrapped my neck tight with saran wrap.
“You know the drill. Keep it on overnight, keep that shit as clean as your daughter’s pussy, ointment three times a day and don’t scratch at it.”
“I know, I know. I know.”
We both looked over at Claire, who was snoozing gently.
“Yeah, she sure is something…” I murmured, a note of sadness in my voice.
The kiss on my lips burned hotter and ached deeper than the tattoo on my neck.
With Joel’s help, we led Claire out to the parking lot, where my chopper and Joel’s car were the only vehicles.
“I’ll take her in mine,” Joel offered. “I don’t think she’s in any condition to hold onto your crazy ass while you drive.”
“Fine. Follow me. I drive real fucking fast, though, so keep the fuck up.”
Joel rolled his eyes at me. I knew his vintage Mustang was no slouch on the open road.
CLAIRE
I came to as Joel was easing me into the front seat of his car.
“Oh, morning already?” I asked, hoping that he heard the sarcasm in my voice. Joel just laughed.
“We didn’t think you’d want to hold onto Fang while you two made your way back to his place, so I’m going to drive you.”
“That’s sweet of you guys…” I said with a yawn. I felt like I had been beaten within an inch of my life, like someone had taken a sledgehammer to me and not let up, no matter how much I screamed, before slicing off my skin—just a cheery image all around.
In moments, we were on the highway, heading back south to Fang’s place.
“He’s head over heels for you,” Joel said after several minutes of silence. “I’ve never seen him like that with any girl.”
“Fang?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s impossible. I thought he hated my guts.”
“I mean, Fang acts like that to most people. It was nearly a year before he’d call me something besides ‘motherfucker’ and by that point, I had already given him two tattoos.”
“How did you two meet?”
“We grew up together, actually. My parents ran the only Chinese restaurant on Fang’s side of Tallahassee. He’d stop in after school for crab rangoons. I was just learning to tattoo then. He was seventeen, I
“And… Done!” Joel announced sitting back and letting out a deep sigh. Claire sat up as much as she was able to without irritating her other fresh tattoos, squinting at the fresh one running up and down my leg.
“I can’t see it from here…”
“You’ll see it in the mirror. Fang, am I doing any work on you tonight?”
“Actually…”
“Shit, man,” Joel sighed, shaking his head. “I was fucking kidding!”
I ran my hand over an empty space on my neck.
“I want a needle here. Maybe dripping blood. Come on—how long will that take you?”
“Fine, fine…”
Joel changed his gloves, his inks, and the needle. In a few minutes, he had sketched something out and he was tattooing me. The itch and sting of the needle was comforting, strangely. Like an old friend.
Claire lay in a heap on the table, snoozing, her body finally having given up.
“She’s one hell of a trooper,” Joel murmured as he finished the black lines on my newest piece and began to start in with color.
“She sure is.”
“You fucking her?”
I sighed.
“I just gotta’ ask, man,” Joel laughed. “I know, I know… She’s a Fed… Hey, this basically makes me a government contractor. I should put that on my Instagram.”
“Hell no you won’t,” I growled. “Everything that happened tonight—you take to the grave. You’re getting twice your normal hourly rate, so you’ve just worked—what, two weeks in one night?”
“Man, I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m not going to say nothing to no one. I know how to keep my fucking mouth shut.”
He did. Joel was a good one. He finished up my newest tattoo, slathered it with ointment, and wrapped my neck tight with saran wrap.
“You know the drill. Keep it on overnight, keep that shit as clean as your daughter’s pussy, ointment three times a day and don’t scratch at it.”
“I know, I know. I know.”
We both looked over at Claire, who was snoozing gently.
“Yeah, she sure is something…” I murmured, a note of sadness in my voice.
The kiss on my lips burned hotter and ached deeper than the tattoo on my neck.
With Joel’s help, we led Claire out to the parking lot, where my chopper and Joel’s car were the only vehicles.
“I’ll take her in mine,” Joel offered. “I don’t think she’s in any condition to hold onto your crazy ass while you drive.”
“Fine. Follow me. I drive real fucking fast, though, so keep the fuck up.”
Joel rolled his eyes at me. I knew his vintage Mustang was no slouch on the open road.
CLAIRE
I came to as Joel was easing me into the front seat of his car.
“Oh, morning already?” I asked, hoping that he heard the sarcasm in my voice. Joel just laughed.
“We didn’t think you’d want to hold onto Fang while you two made your way back to his place, so I’m going to drive you.”
“That’s sweet of you guys…” I said with a yawn. I felt like I had been beaten within an inch of my life, like someone had taken a sledgehammer to me and not let up, no matter how much I screamed, before slicing off my skin—just a cheery image all around.
In moments, we were on the highway, heading back south to Fang’s place.
“He’s head over heels for you,” Joel said after several minutes of silence. “I’ve never seen him like that with any girl.”
“Fang?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s impossible. I thought he hated my guts.”
“I mean, Fang acts like that to most people. It was nearly a year before he’d call me something besides ‘motherfucker’ and by that point, I had already given him two tattoos.”
“How did you two meet?”
“We grew up together, actually. My parents ran the only Chinese restaurant on Fang’s side of Tallahassee. He’d stop in after school for crab rangoons. I was just learning to tattoo then. He was seventeen, I
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