“Do you like working there?” She struck again, a loud smack against polyurethane and foam.
“No, not particularly, but work is work,” I said, and she nodded, seeming to understand.
“What do you do, Ridley?” I asked as she struck hard.
“I’m a tattoo artist,” she said, seeming to finally be a bit winded.
“Impressive. That takes a lot of skill, and I love tattoos.” I lowered my mitts and showed her mine.
She peered at the tattoo of a sun with a knife sticking out of it.
“I like it,” she said. “You had a fantastic artist, but it looks like it could use some touching up. You should come in, and I’ll do it for you. I’ll even give you a discount for not being a little bitch on the mat.”
“Thanks,” I said, amused, and raised the mitts again.
When I had gotten my tattoo, I didn’t exactly know about proper tattoo maintenance. Unfortunately, when my skin peeled, it flaked off some of the color. So although the tattoo had faded in some areas the memory hadn’t. It seemed like yesterday my brother, our friend Easton, and me were in the tattoo parlor together. Just thinking of them left me longing. I longed for my brother, who was my best friend, and Easton, who I always wished saw me as more than Jared’s little sister.
Easton
“I’m telling you, man, that Allie has got a nice ass on her,” Spider said as he reclined in his chair and stretched his long legs under the table. His beady black eyes were offset by a single teardrop tattoo under his eye that symbolized a gory tale he has told time and time again, each time more elaborate than the last.
“She’s fine as hell,” Crow agreed, his jet black hair matching the name. “Only a matter of time now.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. Finally interested in the conversation, my stomach twisted and was repulsed as much by the men in this room as it was the damp smell of mold that clung to the carpet.
Spider’s shrill laughter echoed through the small backroom. “Damn, I could choke that bitch out.” He grabbed his crotch to emphasize his point.
“She’s got great legs,” Crow offered. I hung my head back to stare at the ceiling as a slow puff of smoke escaped my lips. “She’s got great everything.”
“Just wait until Dante sees her, he’s gonna break her in.”
Dante, our president, was going to claim her as his only, and once he was tired of her, he would hand her off to the gang to fuck. I had seen him do it with Lucy, Makayla, and Tanzy.
“Has Dante finally seen enough to let everyone return to Sasha’s?” I asked. This was normal, if Sasha hired someone new, only a few members would go there at a time, sort of like a trial. But Dante never went, as the president he was definitely a local police most wanted. While the gang as a whole stayed away from Sasha’s, Dante would have the new person followed, just long enough to know they weren’t an undercover.
“Yeah, man, we’re headed up there in a bit,” Crow announced.
“I can’t wait until I get a go at the new girl. She is one fine piece of ass.” He laughed, a sickening sound that made the hairs in the back of my neck stand straight. “I’m going to rip that tight cunt open. She is going to love it. And if not, she’ll learn to.”
My jaw clenched as Spider and Crow burst into loud laughter. I had no choice but to play along.
God, I could only imagine the stories these walls would tell, most I wouldn’t want to hear. The odd stain patterns on the carpet reminded me that not everyone got out of here alive.
“Have you talked to her yet?” Crow asked as he’s placed a Marlboro Red between his teeth and struck a match.
“What’s there to talk about?” Spider asked and snapped his fingers, wanting one of Crow’s cigarettes.
“Easy?” Crow asked as he tossed me the pack of smokes, which I caught in one hand.
Before I joined the DT Coyotes, I hadn’t been a smoker, but it was expected. Being a DT Coyote meant keeping up appearances, and you never said no to what a senior member offered.
“Thanks,” I said and pulled out a stale cigarette before casting a longing glance toward the air conditioning box in the window. It whirred and cranked in a futile effort to provide some circulation to the room.
“What about you, Easy?” Spider asked and leaned forward on sinewy arms, tattooed with his signature spider’s web.
“What about me?” Everything about him screamed predator, from his lingering eyes, gaunt features, and intensity that put everyone on edge. I assumed he received the name because he simply reminded you of a spider—that feeling you’d get as a Black Widow crawled across your bedspread was the effect that this Spider had. It gave me some comfort to know that I was double his body weight, and a good head taller than him.
“Allie, What do you think about her?” Spider asked, his voice patient.
“I haven’t seen her,” I said, with a casual shrug, and took a long slow drag. “I haven’t gone in there. I figured if Dante was staying away, so was I.”
The door opened behind me. “Hello, Ladies,” Dante said as he strode in. His hoodie matching half of the other members. I couldn’t understand wearing a fucking sweatshirt in Orlando during late summer.
“Dante,” I said and internally cringed at the amount of grease he’d used to slick back his ink black hair.
He smiled, and the low light of the room created dangerous shadows under the sharp features of his face. “Let’s go,” Dante ordered. “I need some fucking food.”
We all fell into position. I wasn’t one of the New Jacks, what new members were called, in the gang, those members headed
