Page 112 of Black Bird

“Go home and pack some shit. I’ll sneak her out. We’ll stop on the way and grab Wren from the tattoo shop. We’re gonna camp out at the cabin for a while. That’s the only place I can think of to take them right now.”

“Alright. What about the uniforms?”

“Don’t call them. Let me handle it.”

“10-4.”

CHAPTER 18

DISAPPEARING ACT

By the time Wren had finished up her last client, her fingertips were numb and sore. Even after she’d taken a long smoke break and scrolled through the boring posts about everyone’s perfectly normal lives on social media, she still felt the buzz of her tattoo gun like a phantom on her skin. Her stomach rumbled as she walked back inside the shop. Leigh jerked her head in greeting behind the counter and Wren made her way back to her heavily decorated booth to grab her bag. Her next appointment wasn’t for another hour and a half.

“I’m taking lunch, Leigh,” she said, making sure her wallet was in her purse as she passed by the counter again.

“Are you going to Bunker’s?” Leigh asked, pulling up her pink hair into a messy bun.

“Yeah, you want something?”

“Yes, I’m starving. Grab me some loaded fries.” Leigh pulled out a ten-dollar bill and handed it over, and Wren nodded on her way out the door. It sounded good, she realized the more she thought about it.

Wren walked a block down and shoved her way into the little pub, throwing a couple fingers up at the bartender and taking up her usual spot in a small booth across from the bar. She slid in, facing the door and sitting cross-legged while she poked around on her phone and waited for the waitress. She didn’t have to wait long. They practically knew her tastes by now. Angela was her favorite, as well as one of her most heavily tattooed clients and often snuck her free food, or denied tips when Wren tried sticking them in her pocket.

After stuffing her face with a basket full of greasy fries and a bucket of ranch dressing, Wren checked the time and realized she still had quite a bit of it left before she had to head back. Her phone started ringing.

“Hey Rhae, what’s up?”

“Rhae? I kinda like that. Where are you?”Rhaena asked, clicking her tongue.

“I’m at Bunker’s cleaning them out of every high-calorie thing they have.”

“How dare you, twat-waffle!”

Wren nearly had soda come out of her nose when she laughed. “Twat-waffle …” she giggled, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “I think I’m a shitty influence on you, Northwood.”

“Did I fuck that up?”Rhaena chuckled.

“No, I like it. I think we’re gonna have to work on some more vexing insults, pal. Maybe something with a little more—” Wren stopped dead when she saw a familiar face step up to the bar.

“More what?”

“Umm … Rhaena lemme call you back.” Wren’s brows lowered and she cocked her head to the side, studying the guy intently.

“Wait, Wren … I called for a reason. I’m sorry. I need you to skip out and take a few more days off.”

“I can’t dude, they’re gonna kick me out! Why do I need days off? Are you reconsidering my offer to keep you company this lovely full moon?”

“You could say that. Look, I’ll deal with your boss. You have to come with me, though. We’re gonna go to the cabin for a while. Leave your car at the shop. Just stay where you are, I’m gonna come pick you up. I have to get Sarah first.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“I’ll explain later, just keep a low profile, would you?”

Wren sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

“I want wings … breaded.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake … bye.” Wren scoffed, hanging up the phone and quickly typing a text message. She fired it off and stared at the guy who handed the bartender his credit card. He pulled out his phone and stared down at it for a second, then turned his face toward her. Wren waved at him with her forefinger. A group of sports fans hollered from the table behind her at whatever game they were watching on the three screens on the wall.

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