Page 1 of Shattered

Asher

Isweep the crimson ink from Jared’s bicep, marveling over the masterpiece, a skull biting into a blood-red apple. This was our third session of the sleeve, and we’re finally finished. I’m glad he didn’t pussy out like I thought he would. After the fourth hour, he was so lethargic, and I could tell the pain was getting to him. I forced him to eat and drink, and he powered through the last two hours.

“It’s fucking epic, man,” Jared says, his voice heavy with gratitude.

Jared used to be Rocco’s client, and I’d met him many times over the years since becoming Rocco’s apprentice at nineteen. I’m thirty-one now, and I’ve honed in my style over those twelve years, focusing on realism.

“It was a great design idea. Your spark, my fire.”

“And my eternal business,” Jared says.

Rocco and his brother Rooney, the shop owners and the most daunting brother pair in Kingston, Alberta, are cleaning their stations. Rocco turns his head at Jared’s statement, and I struggle to avoid his gaze. It’s always a little loaded in here when Jared’s in. Clients jump from artist to artist sometimes, it happens, but because Jared is such a rich spender, and Rocco is money hungry, he was always a little pissed about losing Jared. He only let me take Jared because he refused to let Rocco do the designs he’s wanted recently. Rocco will still receive a good chunk of the hefty bill since he’s the shop’s co-owner, but it’s not enough.

Once Jared’s wrapped, I stand up, shifting my weight so I don’t aggravate my busted knee. The first few steps after standing are the hardest as the damaged joint stretches out and moves, though I always mask my limp the best I can. Jared follows me past the other three artists. My apprentice, Bane, is finishing wrapping his client.

The cash is in front of the shop, facing the door, and visible from every station. I check out Raven’s ass as we walk around to meet her.

“Six hours,” I say to Raven.

Once Jared takes off, my shoulders sink a little lower. I like tattooing him. He’s a nice guy, and we banter well. It was just Jared and art for a while, but now it’s back. The pain in my leg slightly affects my stride. Outwardly, walking around, there’s not much visible difference.

But inside, I feel it.

It’s been about two months since my accident. Bane and I took our motorcycles out, and one stupid driver in a truck jumped the line and forced us off the road. Both our bikes were totaled, and minelanded on my leg, breaking my knee in two places. I’ve had surgery to fix the joint, but the limp still hasn’t gone away.

“Raven, lock up when they’re done,” Rocco says.

“Yes, Sir,” she says meekly.

Once Rocco and Rooney head out the door and it slams behind them, the whole shop shifts as though exhaling with relief. It always feels calmer in here when they’re gone.

The brothers are known for being a little fucking unhinged. In the shop, they mostly keep their shit together, which is the only reason I’ve stuck around this long. Rooney’s the frontman of the business, though I know it’s Rocco pulling the strings. Rooney could almost pass for a regular guy without his brother attached to him. He’s smaller and shorter than Rocco and me, with a calm face and blue eyes that people seem to trust. His hair is short and well-kept, and he’s always freshly shaved. His brother Rocco, in contrast, is nuts. He’s a little bigger than me, tall and ripped, with long dark hair tied back and a full beard. His brows, nose, and lip are all pierced in multiple places. But what sets Rocco apart from his brother are his menacing green eyes. He carries himself as though he knows he’s untouchable; no one can fuck with him. He never loses. And from what I’ve seen, he’s right.

Because the back alley is visible from our kitchenette window, I’ve watched Rocco pull a knife and stab more than one man, and I’ve seen Rooney carry a gun. Had I known that when I signed my contract to work as Rocco’s apprentice years ago, I might not have put ink to paper. But by the time I was ready to be on my own, I didn’t give a fuck what they did in the back alley. You couldn’t pay me to put drugs in my fucking body, so we’ve had no issues, except for when the occasional client jumps from them to me. Some they’ve forced me to declineso they’d settle for Rocco, others they let me get away with, including Jared. Either way, it’s always on their terms.

It’s nearly seven, and Raven begins to close all the blinds in the shop, blacking out the remaining sunlight.

“Garlands?” Bane asks, forcing me to tear my eyes from Raven’s ass. I turn to him and nod. It’s our favorite takeout place, though it’s a little far.

“You go, I’ll clean your station,” I say.

“Really?”

“Yes. Move your ass, I’m hungry.” The sooner he leaves, the quicker we eat.

“Who says I’m buying for you?”

“It’s your turn, asshole.”

Bane smirks, finally abandoning his station and grabbing his keys, exiting the shop without another word.

While I continue to clean, Raven tidies up around the desk, waiting for me to finish. It was probably inconsiderate of me to let Bane go since Raven will be waiting twice as long for me now, but I don’t care.

Raven hasn’t done herself any favors when it comes to the brothers. They treat her like shit, and she lets them. She always calls them ‘Sir’ and tiptoes around them like she’s afraid of them, though she’s a bitch to everyone else. I don’t even think they pay her to work here. I think she’s just their slave.Why she stays, I have no idea. It’s been evident for years that they abuse her. Even with her snarky attitude, she could have any man she wants. She’s young and hot as fuck, with big blue fuck-me eyes, pin-straight raven-black hair, and an hourglass figure. The clothes she wears always show off her tits, tiny waist, andjuicy ass. I bet she could fuck her way anywhere she wanted if she bothered to try.

I’m still looking at her when she bends over the desk to grab a stack of paper, causing her tight leather pants to creep down, exposing the top of her ass, and I lick my lips, my cock twitching. I haven’t gotten laid since the accident. I always did well for myself when it comes to women. I have a long list of casual fucks, ones who don’t expect me to bring them flowers or remember their names. They just know I come over, wreck their cunts, and lock the door on my way out. A surprising number of chicks like that. But since the accident, I’ve had to take it easy on my leg, and I certainly wasn’t going to show any weakness around them. It’s none of their business.

But now it’s been too long, and I can’t stop staring at Raven’s ass.

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