Page 66 of Shifting Gears

Sydney

Hey, are you busy?

AJ

Nothing I can’t get out of. Got another fight?

Sydney

Ha. No. I want to go get a tattoo. I could use some company if you’re down to come with?

AJ

Sure. Be over to pick you up in thirty.

I was ready and waiting for him when he pulled up almost exactly thirty minutes after his text. I jogged over to his car and slid in. He eyed me, and I raised my eyebrow.

“What?” I said as I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Just admiring the fit. Not used to you showing so much skin. It’s a good look,” AJ said with a smirk.

I almost let his words make me go back inside and throw on a hoodie. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing his words got to me. Instead, I just smiled my bestwhatever, you dicksmile at him and relaxed.

I hated the feeling of clothing rubbing against fresh tattoos, so I wore a tube top and soft linen shorts. It was a warm day as well. I wanted to soak it up.

“Well, enjoy the view, I guess, but don’t get used to it,” I said as I relaxed in my seat and rolled down the window.

“Trust me, I am. Now you gonna tell me where we’re going, or am I just picking the first place I find?”

I grabbed my phone out of my small purse and put in the address, humming along to the music playing as we drove there.

CHAPTER 23

AJ

When the directionsled us into an alleyway so narrow that I was concerned my side mirrors would be knocked off, I pumped the brakes and told her to forget it, that we were walking. But she gave me a smile and jerked her head.

“What’s the matter? Not as good of a driver as you say you are?”

So, here I was, crawling along the alleyway, about to make a slight turn. I expected more of the same narrow bullshit, but the road opened up into a parking lot with another narrow street exiting out the other side. I parked, and we got out.

I followed Sydney up some black cobblestone stairs and into another narrow alleyway. The shop was tucked in this alleyway, and you’d almost miss it if you weren’t looking for it. Neon signs buzzed overhead, casting a warm glow over us. A couple of black paper lanterns swayed in the soft breeze blowing through the passageway.

As we stepped in, I looked at the concrete walls with neon light strips around the ceiling edges of each room. Tattoo designs were framed in black trim, and half of them looked so good that they could have jumped right off the page.

The place felt almost sacred somehow. Like you didn’t just get tattoos here, you earned them.

There was no doubt in my mind that this was where Raven had gotten all of her tattoos. Of course, her sister would use the same place.

Sydney headed deeper inside the building, past other artists in their spaces, inking all kinds of different people. She moved like she owned the place, her excited energy cutting through the low hums of the machines running in the background. We came to a stop at the very back—an area twice the size of the others that we had passed. A large black leather chair was off to one side, along with extra seating around the room. Mirrors covered the ceiling and a wall next to the tattoo chair. It was immaculately clean, and the smell of incense drifted lazily from a table in one corner.

A man walked out of a back room. He was thin with sharp cheekbones and slicked-back black hair. Sydney greeted him as Riku, and he gave us a nod. His arms were covered in old-school ink—colorful koi swam through cherry-blossom branches.

“Ahh, my favorite customer,” he said with a sly smile.

“You only love me because I don’t flinch under your heavy hand,” Sydney said with a laugh.

Seeing her so happy was odd. All I had known was the woman hardened by the loss of her sister. Today was giving me a glimpse of how she had been before, if I had to guess.

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