“I guess here is as good as any place.” The girl plops back down on the couch a little defeated, but something tells me under all that fluff is some steel.
“Thigh or tummy?” Big brown eyes watch as I load my tattoo gun with dark ink.
While I do, I ask a rapid-fire litany of questions about her health, how she bleeds, HIV status — which has her almost choking. “Does your skin keloid? Are you allergic to any dyes?”
She shakes her head, ‘no.’
I can tell she’s overwhelmed, but Ellie’s warning is still ringing in my ears. We need to get this done and her claimed by sunup.
“You're going to have to come out of those pants anyway for the ceremony, so I’ll wait here while you freshen up in the bathroom.” Nodding to the door at the back of the room of Angel’s restroom.
I lay everything out as she heads to the bathroom.
The twin cousins are talking softly to one another. Lorena hands Sara an oversized towel after a few minutes. She takes it to the door and knocks.
“Take your pants off and wrap this around you,” instructing the girl when she pops her head out. Her eyes look hunted as she nods, takes the towel and disappears behind the door again. I almost wish there were a window she could squeeze out of, but the chances of her getting away are nil.
After a few minutes, she emerges, chin-up, wrapped in the towel. Like I said, fluff and steel.
“Thigh,” she says bravely, lying back on the sofa.
“I’m Saban,” my lip quirking in the corner, damn she makes me proud and I don’t even know her for real. But this woman makes you like her. She just has a kind of innocence and angelic spirit exuding from her.
“We should be on a first-name basis if I’m this close to your pussy.” Grinning when she bursts out laughing at how outrageous I sound.
“I’m Ezekiel-Jane.” Her eyes are warm. She’s cute as a button. She doesn’t seem that much older than I am.
“A wheel in the middle of a wheel.” I smile at her. “I like it.”
There is a buzz when I start the gun, making her startle a little. I doubt she’s seen many tattoos, and I don’t think getting one was on her list of things to do in her life.
Slowly, steadily, I move from her inner to outer thigh. The only sign she feels pain is the way her fingers clench the brushed suede of the sofa.
“You're not putting property of or anything like that on me, are you?”
Huffing out a laugh, I keep my focus on my task. “Oh, you don't need to worry about that.”
Humming a nonsensical tune whose words I can’t remember from my homeland, I finish the last swoops and swirls of the design I made up off the fly. Moments later, I’m done.
“Here, see for yourself. A guy will be dead for even laying eyes on this.”
She takes a moment to figure out the backwards beautifully scrolled wordsÁngel de la Muertetattooed on her inner thigh.
Rising, I take a bottle from Angel’s desk, spraying the antiseptic, then wrap her thigh with cellophane.
“Take that off when you get home. It needs to breathe. I’ll give you some stuff for when it starts healing. Don’t pick at the scabs or scratch because you will ruin it. I’ll check it the next time you’re here.” Watching how stiffly she holds herself at my words, I seriously doubt she will be back if she can help it.
She simply nods. Yeah, never gonna see her again.
“Okay, take off your bra and panties. Don’t worry, we’ve seen it all before.” Lorena is holding up a black hooded robe. She proudly shows Ezekiel-Jane the back, which has intricate designs on it with a big devil riding a motorcycle with flames licking up from the robe.
“You can keep this on the whole time. They used to make the girls come out naked, but they been put a stop to that.” I know she’s trying to make it sound like it’s better than it is but she only succeed in terrifying the cute little woman more.
Ezekial-Jane is in full crash out mode as her trembling hands try to get the already ruined shirt off.
“I got you.” Lorena whispers, easing it off, then snapping her bra free. Her body shakes with fear. She’s nearing a breakdown. Probably still in shock from the accident, too.
Taking out my favorite tequila, commandeered from the bar out of my pack, and a shot glass of Snake’s, I move around Angel’s desk where I was cleaning my tool kit and packing my supplies.
