Enzo (Jinx Tattoos 1)
“Where do they want it?” Enzo asked.
“A back piece. Luckily, it’s not their first. I always cringe when first times come in and try to do a back piece in one sitting.” Rhys shook his head.
Enzo snorted. “Call me if you need anything.”
“We won’t, and if we do, I’m calling Noah. It’s your day.” Rhys and Enzo fist bumped. “See you soon, pretty girl,” Rhys said, giving her a hug before he disappeared out the door.
She spun around. “Open the bag.”
He laughed and removed the red tissue paper. “Oh, man, she did good.” He pulled out a bulky box set. “We are watching Kill Bill next.”
She leaned in and read the description. It was a gift set featuring Quentin Tarantino’s best and bloodiest. “I love your mom. She’s so cool.”
“Trust me, the feeling is mutual with your mom. Come on, let’s finish our movie before we’re interrupted again.” Enzo led her back into the living room.
Once again, she was lost to her thoughts of what if. Enzo was gravity. She had no choice but to keep circling him.
We fight it down, and we live it down, or we bear it bravely well,
But the best men die of a broken heart for the things they cannot tell.
“Things We Dare Not Tell” Henry Lawson
Translations:
A leanbuh (uh LAN-uv): My child
Chapter Two
Enzo
His mind had been on Aibhlinn all day. Their relationship was shifting, and he couldn’t put his finger on the catalyst. Last night, he’d noticed how well she fit into his side, and how full and firm her breasts were. It made him nervous. He placed her in a box and tried not to think about it for a reason. He finished up the color for the full serpent sleeve he was working on and wiped it down. He and Snake, a local biker, had been trying to complete the piece for the past few months.
“I think we got it, brother,” Enzo said, pushing away from the chair.
“Yeah?”
Pride filled him. The green was bright and the lines were crisp and sharp. The serpent slithered its way around his arm. The head rested at his shoulder, jaws open and ready to strike. He filled in the negative space with black and small references to his motorcycle club. Sometimes, the rougher crowd came in. He didn’t mind. As long as he gave respect, they returned it and their money flow was constant. He’d built up this shop on the money of bikers.
“Damn, man. I can’t wait to see it completed.” Snake unfolded his six foot plus frame from the chair and walked over to the mirror. He twisted his way to the left and right, examining it with shrewd narrowed eyes. “It looks fucking excellent. You always do good work. The boys appreciate it.”
“I appreciate you guys. You gave me a shot when no one knew my name, and kept food on my table.”
“No one else we’d trust more,” Snake said.
Enzo nodded his head, thinking of the times he’d gone to the club to do a tattoo party, or mark one of their women with the club’s emblem. It was a different world, for sure. “I know you know the drill. Take the bandage off in three to four hours, and apply a light layer of Bacitracin, three to four times a day. Keep your hands clean when you’re handling it, and if you have any issues, let me know.”
“Will do, Enzo. How much do I owe you?”
“Three hundred.”
“Well worth it,” Snake replied as he peeled off four hundreds, giving him a hefty tip.
“I appreciate it,” Enzo said. He smoothed a layer of Bacitracin onto the tattoo, wrapped it up, and sent Snake on his way.
Cheered by the money made, and the tattoo finished, his black mood lifted. He whistled to himself as he cleaned up his area and prepped for his next piece.
“Well good morning, sunshine,” Noah greeted.