“I’m gonna be a tattoo artist when I grow up,” Brielle says, fascinated by a vine of roses and thorns wrapping around a girl’s arm.
There’s three people working there. Oscar says they’re the inkers. Two are guys who are busy with customers and the other is the coolest looking girl I’ve ever seen. She’s got blue hair on one side of her head, the other is shaved bald. And tons of piercings and tattoos. She’s wearing a T-shirt under a leather vest and has on leather pants and combat boots. Her makeup is all black and even her name is cool. Mercy.
Hash is awesome too even if he didn’t let me ride on the back of his bike. I was angry at first but then realized that he was using good judgement. Mom would have gone gorilla on him, and I know what that’s like.
He shows us his tattoos. He has a lot, from his neck down and his chest and arms. Even his hands. “Do you have more?” Brielle asks.
He grins at her. “Not that I can show you.”
My face feels hot because I know what he means. So does Brielle as she blushes.
Ash is standing over by one of the inkers, talking to him and the guy getting the tattoo. Max is slumped in a chair near the entrance, leafing through one of the books full of tattoos and Sean is wandering around the shop looking at everything.
Oscar’s been lounging against the front counter, trying to look cool, his arms and ankles crossed. But when he sees me watching, he makes a face, like, ‘What have we gotten ourselves into?’
I look back at him with the same face.
Hash and Mercy are leaning over the counter with their backs to us. Hash is sketching out what our tattoo will look like, and Mercy is adding her two-bits. Finally, Hash nods and turns to Oscar and me with the paper in hand. “What’d ya think?”
Everyone crowds around and looks. It’s so cool. Hash has taken the fuzziness of the skull away by drawing dark lines to make the skull look more 3D. He’s expanded the drips that are supposed to be blood so they look like wings. Embedded in one of the wings is HJ.
“Can we get it done too?” Max asks.
“Of course, you can’t,” Ash says. “You’re underage.”
“So are you,” Max snaps back.
“I’m 16. I don’t need parental permission.”
Hash snorts. “You do if your dad’s name is Hangman.”
Mercy meets my eye and smiles, then walks over to me. “Let’s see what you got.”
I pull up my sleeve to show her.
“Jesus,” she whispers, then looks at Hash. “It’s horrible.”
Tears spurt to my eyes.
“It’s not your fault, kid,” Hash says as he tussles my hair. “Don’t think you had a choice.”
He’s kind of wrong, since we had a choice to not go into the gang clubhouse alone. But his words make me feel better anyway.
“Okay, tetanus shots first,” Hash announces. “You take Henri,” he tells Mercy. “I’ll do Oscar.”
Secretly, I’m glad I get Mercy, but I don’t say it out loud because I don’t want to hurt Hash’s feelings. After I get the shot, I realize why I’m with Mercy. Tetanus shots go in the bum cheeks.
After that’s over, she takes me to her chair and sits me down. “Ready to get started?” she asks.
I nod. My mouth feels really dry and my heart’s beating hard. I don’t know why. This is way better than getting tattooed by Lola.
Mercy pulls a tray towards me and starts by disinfecting my arm.
It hurts and I wince, but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to look like a baby in front of everyone.
“Hers doesn’t look too bad,” she says over her shoulder to Hash. “No infection that I can tell.”
“Here too,” Hash replies. Then I hear the buzz of Hash’s gun. “Stop me if it starts to hurt,” he says to Oscar. “We gotta get this done before your dad gets wind of this. I need enough time for me and Peyton to pack for a long vacation.”
