Page 82 of A Brother's Secret

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Amalia…

I started working for Kyle’s boys. I knew it was the right thing to do the moment we walked through the shop’s front door. This place was serious business. Right on the strip in Old Town across from The Spot, a bar that’d been popular and a destination dining and watering hole for as long as I could remember.

The place was all black and white checkered tile and a riot of color on the walls. The flash art was serious – all original hand drawn designs by either Trig or Revelator. Some was in the classic Sailor Jerry motif, some clearly geared towards the military, but none of it was out of a book or catalog.

When I stepped up to the counter, my portfolio was already there, except the piece of label tape on its front declaring it Lexi Duran’s work was gone, and instead, there was a much shorter strip that simply read ‘Mali.’

It hit me right in the feels and I don’t know why. It was one of those moments, though. The kind that felt like a gift from the universe and they were so rare, and beautiful, you didn’t reject something like that. So I’d joined up, right there on thespot.

That had been 19 days ago. For some reason, the significance of that number tickled the back of my brain, but I couldn’t for the life of me tell you why. I leaned back from my customer, a guy that was actually one of Trigger’s regulars by the name of Donnie. He had an arctic fox on one shoulder and had wanted some Japanese cherry blossoms and branch work done down his arm to make the shoulder piece into a sleeve.

Trigger had shown him my watercolor style and Donnie had dug it. This was his first appointment withme.

“So I gotta ask, and I’m sure you get asked this all the timebut –“

I cut him off, “Am I single?”

“Yeah,” he sounded disappointed, the answer already clear on myface.

“You’re either very brave or very stupid asking me that when I’m grinding ink under your skin,” I said dryly.

He laughed, “Pain is an old friend of mine, gimme your bestshot.”

“Famous last words,” I said teasingly, as I dipped more ink, hit my pedal and dug backin.

He chuckled, and said, “He’s a luckyguy.”

“Mm,” was my noncommittal reply; Kyle wasn’t the lucky one. I was… and I knewit.

I ground ink into Donnie’s skin for the better part of two hours before his session was up. He looked down at it, his eyes widening a little, mouth down turning in the classic expression of being rather impressed as he nodded.

“You want a picture or anything?” I asked.

“Nah, I’ll wait ‘til it’s done for that. I don’t like half-finishedshit.”

I shrugged and patched him up and launched into the aftercare instructions but he put up a hand, “I know the drill.”

“I’m sure you do, just doing myjob.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but Trigger’s deep voice rolled across the shop from his corner, stopping him, “You might want to think about whatever you’re gonna say before you open your mouth, Donnie. Otherwise, that tat is gonna stay just like it is. Mali’s the only one around these parts that can finish that style.”

Donnie stopped, his eyes sparkling with barely suppressed entertainment, and asked me, “When’s our next appointment?”

“That’s all Sunshine…” I muttered and he went up front to pay andbook.

I cleaned up my station and went over to where Trigger was working on a girl’s ankle piece.

“Could have handled it,” I said. “Not my first rodeo.”

He looked up at me and winked, “Yeah, but that’s part of doing business under guys like me and Rev; you could have handled it, but in our shop? You don’t haveto.”

I nodded and called out to Ashton, “What have I got ondeck?”

“You’re good,” she called back, “Unless you want to stay in case of a walk-in.”

“Nope!” Rev called and got up from his station. He snapped off the pair of black nitrile gloves he had on and tossed them in the wastebasket, shaking out his hands. Picking up an envelope on his counter, he came towardsme.

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