“Here, read this,” Beeks said.
Score twisted away. Shyla got even closer, inspecting the ink on his skin. Fish bounced off his stool to go get whatever Beeks was waving around. Insanity seized her. That was the only explanation for what she did next. Leaning in, she touched the stag with the tip of her tongue.
The contact made Score turn fast and she leaped back; no one else seemed to notice the sudden movement. His gaze zeroed in on her. Despite his judgement, she clasped her hands at her back, and sucked on her lip while shrugging. She hadn’t meant to lick him, it just happened… Maybe she was losing her mind.
“Can I have waffles, Shyla?” Fish asked like it was the first time.
Either he was too polite to point out that she’d given his food to someone else, or he’d forgotten the last plate was meant to be for him.
“Sure, honey,” she said, dragging her eyes away from Score to return to the other side of the island to whip up another batch.
When they were cooking, Fish returned to his previous point. “You wanna come get a tattoo with me, Shyla?” he asked. “We could get the same as Score’s. Be like McDades.”
“No,” Score barked before she could respond. In an unusual move, he looked both of them square in the eye, one after the other. “I don’t want either of you taking the mark of the family.”
It might be irrational, but she was a little insulted by his vehemence.
“You can get it removed,” Fish said, taking Score’s assertion in a different way. “If you’re really pissed at them.”
“I’d go to war for my family, if I was called in,” Score said, using the side of his fork to cut into the waffle. “Even if I fucking hated them all, that’s what this mark means. Once it’s on, it doesn’t go away.”
He was still part of the brethren, even if he didn’t want any ties to them.
“Maybe we could come up with our own mark,” Fish said. “All of us get something the same. Start our own posse…” Twisting around, he left just one elbow on the counter. “Beeks, you wanna get a tattoo with us? Boss, you’d get another one, right?”
“Shyla isn’t getting a tattoo,” Score said, reading his phone and eating at the same time. “Her skin stays the way it is.”
Virgin, like the rest of her. She assumed that’s what he meant.
“I don’t mind needles,” she said, cutting up some fruit to add to Fish’s waffles. “But I don’t think I could sit still long enough to be tattooed… doesn’t it take a long time?”
“Depends where you get it and how big.”
“Does it hurt?” she asked, building his plate and taking it to him.
Fish touched the inside of his wrist. “Hurts here and like your fingers and stuff… Shoulder doesn’t hurt… Butt wouldn’t hurt.”
“I wouldn’t get it somewhere I couldn’t see it,” she said, scooping some cream from the edge of his plate. “The artist could tattoo whatever he wanted, and I would never know what it was.”
“We’d all get them at the same time,” Fish said. “We’d be there to make sure no one tattooed any dicks on you or anything.”
“Oh, well that’s nice, thank you,” she said, sucking her finger clean and then going to her station to clean up. “Do you really think that would be a comfortable experience for me? The three of you lined up behind some tattoo artist while I lift up my skirt? No, thank you. I think I’ll agree with Score, no tattoos for me.”
Fish made a sound of disappointment. Her gaze drifted to Score. For a brief flash, she caught him looking at her. Whether she would be interested in wearing a mark for him or not, she was coming to learn that following his orders, and they were orders, paid dividends in other areas.
“Aww, but how will we know you’re in the gang?” Fish asked.
Shyla didn’t want him to be disappointed. It was nice that he included her when really, she wasn’t part of their gang outside the apartment.
“Why don’t you buy me a nice piece of jewelry? I’ll wear it every day and you’ll know it means I’m part of your gang.”
“But we’re the only ones who’ll know.”
“True,” she said, putting food items away. “But to be honest, I don’t really want to be out on the street myself, or in a store somewhere oblivious and have someone come over and start beating on me because my gang upset them… I’ve never thrown a punch in my life. I’d be useless in a fight.”
“I’ll teach you to fight,” Fish said.
“No, you won’t,” Score said, pushing his plate away.
Fish finished his food. Score stood up to return whatever Beeks had given him. They exchanged a few whispers while she finished with her cleaning up. Shyla was about to ask if they wanted more coffee when Beeks got up. Score backed away, giving him space to go to Fish.
“Time to get some work done, boy, come on,” Beeks said, smacking Fish’s shoulder, urging him towards the elevator.
She expected Score to follow. Instead, he brought his coffee cup around to her side of the island and slid it onto the counter next to the sink. At that side of the island, the hallway partition blocked them from the view of those at the elevators.
“No tattoos,” he murmured, moving closer and scooping a hand under her skirt to grip her ass.
“I know,” she whispered in response, letting him crowd her against the sink. “I heard you.”
Opening her hands on his torso, she rose as high as she could on her tiptoes. Bending his knees, Score’s hand left her ass to slide around
