Page 9 of Tyson
I grabbed my jacket—leather, worn, decorated with patches from shops I'd guested at over the years and some subtleHeavy Kings motifs. My keys jangled with too many keychains, including a tiny gummy bear Mandy had given me as a joke. My portfolio case, battered but functional. My coffee mug needed rinsing but that could wait until tonight.
One last look at the apartment—my chaos, my mess, my life. The guitar case still lurked under the bed, keeping its secrets, a memorial to my old life. Gone but not forgotten.
ThebackdoorofMarked Kings Tattoo opened to familiar scents—green soap sharp enough to strip memories, the metallic tang of fresh ink mixed with blood, and underneath it all, the subtle smell of leather.
"Morning, sunshine!" Tanya's voice carried from the front, followed by the clink of jewelry displays being reorganized. Again. Girl couldn't leave the piercing setup alone for more than two days running. "Coffee's fresh, and we've got three walk-in slots if you're up for it."
"When am I not up for it?" I called back, navigating the narrow hallway lined with flash art and photos of our best work. My portrait of Duke's father, Big Mike, held center position—a memorial piece that had taken twelve hours and most of my emotional reserves.
The main floor opened up, all exposed brick and industrial fixtures that Thor had installed himself, muttering about "proper fucking lighting for proper fucking art." Morning light streamed through the front windows, catching the dust motes that danced no matter how much we cleaned.
My station waited in the back corner—prime real estate with good light and enough privacy that clients could cry without the whole shop watching. I'd claimed it three years ago and defended it like territory since. My machines sat in their customholders, surgical steel gleaming. Ink caps arranged by frequency of use rather than any color system that made sense to normal people. Black in the center, then grays, then the colors I reached for most—that particular shade of red that worked for both blood and roses.
Everything exactly where I'd left it Friday night, except—
"Tanya, did you clean my station?"
"Just wiped it down!" She popped her head around the divider, green-streaked hair pulled into space buns that made her look twelve instead of twenty-five. "The health inspector's doing rounds this week."
Right. Health inspector. Not that we needed to worry—I kept my station hospital-clean out of habit and professional pride. But Tanya liked to mother hen the shop.
I settled onto my stool, checking the appointment tablet. My 10 AM had canceled—boyfriend drama, according to the note. Perfect. More time for Mrs. Chen's stencil, making sure every line would transfer clean. Memorial work didn't get rushed.
Behind my ink bottles, barely visible unless you knew where to look, my emergency coloring book peeked out. Geometric patterns filled with midnight anxiety, colored in careful gradients when my hands needed to be busy but skin wasn't available. My little secret at work—not hidden exactly, but not advertised either.
The front window gave me a perfect view of Ironridge's morning rush. Construction workers from the new development grabbed coffee at Bean There Done That. Mothers pushed strollers toward the park, probably hoping to tire kids out before the snow hit. Normal morning stuff.
Then, something caught my eye. A skinny guy in a Serpents support hoodie leaned against the lamp post across the street. The Serpents were the Heavy Kings’ biggest rival club. Nastypieces of work. They didn’t normally hang around the Kings’ territory, especially not wearing their colors so openly.
My hand stilled on the stencil paper. This guy was in support gear, not full colors—so not a patched member. Wannabe or hang-around, probably. Maybe he didn’t know how much danger he was in right now. His greasy hair was pulled back in a ponytail that hadn't seen shampoo in days. Phone out, held at an angle that suggested photos rather than texting.
What the hell was worth photographing? Maybe he was scouting the methadone clinic two blocks north—the Serpents weren't subtle about their pharmaceutical interests
He shifted, phone swinging toward our shop.
No. Probably nothing. Serpents had been pushing at Heavy Kings territory for months, little probes and tests. Taking pictures of businesses, noting schedules. Duke called it "reconnaissance bullshit" and mostly ignored it until they crossed actual lines.
Still, the sight of that support hoodie made my skin crawl. Too many stories from the brothers about Serpents' treatment of women. Too many warnings about their president's particular interests.
"Hey, Tanya?" I kept my voice casual. "You see that guy across the street?"
She peered out, nose wrinkling. "Ew. Yeah, he's been there about twenty minutes. Thought he was waiting for the clinic to open."
Twenty minutes. Before I'd arrived, then.
"Probably is," I agreed, turning back to my stencil. No point in paranoia. This was Heavy Kings territory, the shop under the club’s direct protection. Serpents might probe, but they weren't stupid enough to start shit here. Not in broad daylight. Not this deep in enemy territory.
The back door chimed—electronic beep that meant someone with a key. Not a customer, then. Either Thor checking in, one of the other artists arriving early, or—
"That'll be Mike," Tanya announced. "He texted about touching up that pin-up girl. The one with the questionable anatomy?"
Right. Mike's artistic interpretation of female bodies left something to be desired, but his clients loved him and he paid his booth rent on time. Can't ask for more than that.
I smoothed out the stencil paper, focusing on the work. The Serpents scout could take all the pictures he wanted. Document our schedules, note our habits. Didn't change anything. This was my shop, my station, my work.
At9:30,myphonelit up with what could only be described as an emoji explosion. Mandy's contact photo—her making bunny ears behind Thor's head while he scowled—disappeared under a cascade of wedding dress emojis, hearts, and what appeared to be every flower in the emoji keyboard.
Dress shopping this weekend!! You + me + Mia + champagne = YES!! Thor already gave his credit card. Daddy says I can have any dress I want! ??
