Raz?
“I am looking for a very specific tattoo. I want to know who is wearing that tattoo. I strongly suspect, see, that you are the designer who placed the tattoo on the individual’s body. After all, you do the best snakes. All in the scales, right?”
She sucked in a breath. Cass had high-tailed it to this place so that he could get a name, for her? So freaking sweet.
She’d tried searching for the tattoo and the tattoo artist before, but that had been like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Cass had just found the, uh, needle for her. The tattoo needle, that was. Excitement quivered through her. They’d been surrounded by his crew during the drive, so they hadn’t been able to talk freely. When they’d been on the motorcycle, Cass had been flying, and the roar of the motorcycle had been so loud. If she’d wanted to talk to him, she would have needed to scream. Not like she wanted her screams overheard by the others.
It’s all about trust. Cass was proving that she was right to trust him completely. She jumped out of the chair and grabbed a piece of paper. Raz had plenty of pens around, so she sketched out the image fast. Easy to do because her drawing skills weren’t rusty, and her memory of that particular snake burned hot and bright in her mind. “This is it.” She slapped the paper against Raz’s chest.
He looked down. Eased the paper back so he could stare at it. As soon as she saw the flare of his eyes, she knew he’d recognized the tat.
“Who did you mark with that design?” Cass asked, voice as cool as a summer breeze.
Javion closed in, moving to stand right next to Raz.
The bell over the tattoo shop’s door jingled. Another member of Cass’s crew had just walked in. The one called Bear filled the doorway. Filled it.
“Does your memory need jogging?” Cass asked. Then, when there was no immediate response from Raz, he drawled, “Hey, Bear, come do me a solid and jog this guy’s memory with your fist?—”
“He’ll kill me.” Sweat dotted Raz’s temples.
“Bear?” A roll of Cass’s broad shoulders. The powerful muscles of his chest flexed. “Nah, he’ll just shake you up a bit.”
A frantic widening of Raz’s eyes. “No. The man with that tat. If I tell, I’m dead.”
Cass closed in on the tattoo artist. “If you don’t tell me, you’re dead.” He eyed the array of needles next to Raz. “FYI, that death will be very painful. See, I’m not a professional when it comes to the art of tattooing. Don’t know how to use all the equipment. And when I try to use these needles on you—and I will have to try, if you don’t cooperate with me—it will hurt. A lot.”
Her body practically vibrated. This man…Raz knew the tattoo she’d drawn. It was his tattoo, after all. He’d been the designer.
Raz’s gaze cut to her. “Actually…I-I used that same design twice. Two people have that tat.”
Her heart thudded hard in her chest. Cass had said that he believed two men were killing, two leaders in the Twins. Two serial killers.
“I’m a dead man,” Raz rasped.
“You will be,” Bear swore from the doorway. His hands had fisted.
Raz’s gaze jumped from Bear to Cass. Then lingered on Cass. “G-gave it to your uncle, Cass. Gave it to Winston Striker when he first came up with the idea of the Twins.” He grabbed a tattoo gun. Gripped it tightly in his hand. “That was years ago. When I first opened my business. Wanted to make him something badass. So I worked hard. Went through about a dozen sketches before I created one that he approved.”
Cass’s uncle had come up with the Twins? She slanted a quick glance at Cass.
He showed no surprise.
“The other bastard…he came to me about eight years ago, wanting the exact design.”
Eight years ago. That was right around the time her whole life had changed.
“Tell me his name,” Cass demanded.
Instead of saying the name, Raz lunged forward, swiping out with the tattoo gun?—
Cass planted an upper cut in his face. Agnes was pretty sure one of Raz’s teeth went flying as the man staggered back. The tattoo gun went flying, too. It banged into the wall of sketches.
“His name,” Cass repeated, tone patient.
Raz lifted a hand to cover his bloody mouth. “Bayne! Bayne Hendrix!”
