“Okay, so I’ve drawn something up for you based on the design you sent me. Let me know what you think,” he says. Saige has obviously been in contact with this guy. She planned this.
He shows her the sketch and I’m surprised.
“What do you think?” she asks, leaning close to me.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, and it’s the truth. It’s a skull, but made out of flowers. It’s dark and delicate at the same time. And it’s big. I wonder where she’s going to put it.
“I thought you might like it. He’s hiding it right now, but Quinn has his fair share of ink,” Saige says to Crash. He looks up at me as if it’s the first time he’s really seeing me. I wish she wouldn’t have said that, even to this guy.
“Oh yeah?” he says, taking the design back. I have no choice now.
I pull up my sleeves and show him some of the work I’ve had done. He leans in and examines me, his eyes widening.
“This is good work. Reminds me of this guy I know. You didn’t get any of this done by Razor, did you?” I feel the blood drain out of my face and I fight to keep my breathing even.
“Yeah,” I say, pushing my sleeves down.
“No way, small world.” Crash doesn’t seem to notice my reaction and turns his attention back to Saige. I can’t even look at her to see if she caught my little freak-out.
Razor did all of my work. We’d been friends in high school and when he started tattooing, I sort of volunteered to be a human canvas. Fortunately, he was a damn good artist or else I would have ended up with some shitty stuff on my skin forever.
I do not need this. But how was I supposed to know that Saige was going to bring me into a tattoo shop with an artist who happens to know someone from my past? Sure, the tattoo world is small, but it isn’t all that small. Still, Razor has made a name for himself and owns several shops all over the US.
“You ready?” Crash asks Saige and she gives him a thumbs up before sitting down in the chair he’s indicated. It has a place for her to rest her chest on, so her back is exposed. She pulls her shirt up, exposing her bra. She snaps it undone and then readjusts herself. Razor cleans and shaves her skin before laying down the transfer.
The tattoo is about the size of a real skull and he centers it on her back, below her shoulder blades. He gets the ink all ready to do the outlines.
It’s probably going to take more than one session to get it done, depending on how much detail she wants and her pain tolerance. Something tells me that it’s pretty high.
He puts his gloves on and I sit back in my chair. I’m still reeling a little bit, but then Saige reaches out to me.
“Hold my hand?” She doesn’t seem like the type who would need that, but I scoot the chair closer and reach out to her. She takes my hand and gives me a wink.
“No pain, no gain.”
“You ready?” Crash asks, holding the tattoo needle just above her skin.
“Yup.”
She holds my hand tight for the first few strokes of the needle, but then she relaxes.
“It’s not that bad. I don’t remember the last time. I was a tiny bit drunk when I did it.” She turns her head to the side so she can look at me as Cash works.
He gets into the rhythm, drawing and wiping away the excess ink and blood with a paper towel. I used to spend lots of time with Razor at the shop he apprenticed at, so I’ve seen countless tattoos. Crash is completely in the zone. He’s focused on Saige and her skin and nothing else. I respect that.
He asks her questions about her life, trying to keep her calm.
“Did you have an inspiration for this?” he asks and she winces just a little as he goes over a sensitive spot.
“Not really. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while, but finally got the nerve to do it.” She grins at me. I wonder if I was the catalyst. Tattoos can be addictive and seeing them on someone else can make the itch come back.
It’s been quite a while since I got my last tattoo and being in this shop is giving me that old familiar feeling. I don’t have a whole lot of skin left that hasn’t been covered, but there are still a few spots.
“Most people who don’t have tattoos think all of them have to have intense personal significance, but sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they’re just tattoos.” I completely agree. My first few tattoos didn’t have much significance. An anchor, barbed wire, that sort of thing. It wasn’t until I got a little older that I started inking my life on my skin. Saige doesn’t know it, but the ink is a roadmap of my life. Every tragedy, everything is there if you only know how to find it and what it means.
“Well, I’m kind of hoping to piss my parents off a little with it,” Saige says with a wink in my direction. Crash laughs.
“I get all about that. When I got my first tattoo when I was sixteen, I thought my mother was going to have a heart attack. But she’s come around to it and she’s even let me do a few pieces on her. I’ve tattooed my whole family.” That’s nice. He’s lucky he has a family to tattoo.
The buzz of the needle and Saige’s hand in mine lull me into a relaxed state. We’re going to be here for a few hours.
“Are you hungry?” I ask. I hope she ate beforehand. I don’t want her passing out.
“No, I’m fine. I had lunch before I came.” Good girl.
“Well, I’ll take you home when we’re done and you can lay on the couch and I’ll feed you,” I say. She squeezes my hand.
“You take such good care of me.”
“You’re easy to take care of,” I say back.
By the time Crash finishes the outline and the black shading, Saige is definitely done. She’s taken it like a champ, but everyone gets fatigued after a while.
“It’s looking really nice,” Crash says, cleaning the skin and then slathering it with clear goo before wrapping her up and taping the plastic to her skin. He gives her instructions on what to do and what not to do as she stands and winces.
“Wow, that felt like it took years,” she says as she puts her shirt down and re-hooks her bra.
“It always seems like forever until it’s over with,” Crash says, snapping off his gloves. “You can go ahead and schedule your next appointment with Ruby and she’ll give you printed out instructions if you forget anything I’ve just said because you’re in tattoo haze.” He smiles and pats her on the shoulder before turning to give my hand a shake.
“Nice to meet you and I wish I could see more of your work, but I totally understand if you want to keep it private.” Given other circumstances, I might whip off my shirt and show him, but not with Saige here. I don’t want this guy to remember me any more than he already will. I wish Saige would have told me and I wouldn’t have come. Too late now.
Saige pays and sets up the next appointment for three weeks from now. Just after my deadline. It’s a shame I won’t get to see the finished piece, but there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s my boys or her and I’m going to choose them. Every time.
I escort her out of the shop.
“Are you sure you can drive, or do you want me to take you and then I can come back for my car?” I ask.
“That would be wonderful, Quinn. Thank you.” She slumps against me and I hold her, being careful not to touch her back where I know the skin is raw.
I decide to drive my car, since the guys would go ballistic if I left it here. With the threat of the stalker, I know it’s not a good idea to leave this thing out in the open.
“If you want, I can take a cab here and bring your car back in an hour or something. If you’re worried about it getting jacked.” This isn’t exactly the best neighborhood and her ride is pretty sweet.
“You’re the best,” she says as I help her into the passenger seat. She leans forward so the seat isn’t pressing against her back and sighs.
“Remind me again why I thought this would be a good idea?” she says as I get in and start the car.