Page 2 of Fox
Her blue eyes roll so hard I’m shocked they don’t get stuck. “I caught sight of you and your squad of dimwitted Neanderthals and felt a wave of nausea hit me.” Snorting, I shake my head and cross my arms over my chest. Her body’s shaking slightly, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m intimidating her or something. Ridiculous, though honestly, Janie isn’t afraid of anything. She will take on the biggest and the baddest fuckers just to prove her dominance. Still, she’s trembling. And it’s from more than my presence or even her grief.
“Seriously,” I try to make my voice as soothing and pleasant as possible, which isn’t easy around her. “If you want to talk about–”
She laughs dryly, “Yeah, I’m gonna stop you right there because this is so not the vibe, and you are giving me major second-hand embarrassment.”The… vibe?“I already told you that you can have the shop. But that doesn’t mean I need—or want—you to fill his shoes. I don’t need a dad, Fox.” She pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen. Eachtap tap tapis like nails on a chalkboard.
“Oh?” I huff out, pushing myself off the wall. “You mean I don’t have to sit there and wait for you to come running in with some sob story about how someone wrote something mean about you or photoshopped your ass to be bigger, and you need your daddy to fix it? Well, thank god for that!”
Her body visibly stiffens as the tremble in her small hands grows around her phone. She straightens further, attempting to look me in the eye while her hands go behind her back. Her dark blue eyes hide behind fake lashes, eyeliner, and tons of eyeshadow. Still, I see the redness, the bloodshot eyes she’s trying so desperately to cover, like her freckles, which…Seriously, how much makeup is she wearing? Because I don’t see a single one, and Janie’s covered in them. She looks about to say something but decides against it, scoffing and shaking her head instead before looking back at her phone.
“Like they would need to photoshop me. I havetheideal body.” She starts tapping away on her phone again, systematically dismissing me.
Deciding that I need to get this conversation over with before I actually hurt the one feeling this little demon has left, I clear my throat and cock my head, gesturing to the chapel. “Why is the old man’s casket closed?” I watch her left eye twitch, and she takes a breath before glaring at me once more.
“Because,” she clicks, her voice holding more than venom. “As his daughter, it wasmydecision, and I found it more pleasing to look at the casket than a dead body.”
More pleasing.
Dead body.
I’m shocked by her heartless words, and I watch mutely as she pushes herself off the wall and heads back into the chapel.
“Enjoy that shop, Fox. Hopefully, it doesn’t steal your life like it did his.” Her voice is distant, and I don’t respond as she disappears behind the doors. My fingers run over the two coins burning a hole in my pocket. I need to put them in Tony’s casket before I leave today. I have no idea if the funeral director will allow me to, but I’m not leaving here without doing it.
Everyone has leftthe chapel to have a party in remembrance of Tony, which is precisely what I willnotbedoing. Tony is scheduled to go to the crematorium shortly, and I still have these coins burning a hole in my pocket.
Deciding it’s now or never, I sneak back into the room. I’ll slip the coins in, and no one will be the wiser. But as I close the door behind me, I find I’m not alone. Janie stands in front of the casket, her hands wrapped around the handle so tightly I can’t tell if she wants to pick it up and hurl across the room or if she is doing it to hold herself steady.
“You fucking asshole,” she hisses out. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me until I was ready. Now what? What am I supposed to do? Apparently, I didn’t even pick the right way to have your casket because I’ve been getting complaints all day.” I must make a noise because she whips around, and our eyes meet. I watch the heat rush to her neck and chest as she tries to stand tall and compose herself
“Ever hear of knocking?”
“In a public building? No.” I say, walking up to the casket. “Torch–”
“Fucking save it,” she snaps before turning and storming out of the chapel. I exhale shakily before opening the casket and slipping the coins inside.
“I’m going to miss you, Tony,” I whisper, running my hand over the handle Janie had just had a death grip on. “She ain’t the only one that wasn’t ready for this. I don’t know what I’m going to do or how I’m going to do this without you.” Sighing as I feel the lump grow in my throat, I pat the lid before turning away. “I’ll watch over her; she’s safe with me.” Tony only had two loves in his life, Janie and Hel’s. I may be useless with one, but I can and will care for the other.
ONE
fox
THREE WEEKS LATER
“Fox, this is absolutely amazing!” Lauren squeals while giving me a massive smile before staring back down at her hip tattoo in the mirror. Ren is my favorite type of client. She knows what she wants but is open to artistic changes. She never cancels, isn’t bad company, and we have many of the same interests. It’s just a shame that she has her pretty brown eyes set on the dumbass sitting at his station across from me.
“Atlas! The fuck are you doing?” Atlas looks up from where he’s tattooing his calf at his table and gives me the dumbest fucking grin.
“Stay away!” He yells like a child. “It’s almost ready.”
Ren walks over to him before I can cover her hip; she peers over his shoulder before busting out laughing. I watch her double over and snort at whatever Atlas has put on his skin.
“Ren,” I groan while standing up and walking over to them. “Tell that fucker he has a client in twenty minutes, and he needs to get—you’ve got to be kidding me.” I’m unsure what I’m supposed to feel when I look down at the newest addition to Atlas’ leg. Shock? Embarrassment? Honor?
It’s done in an American Traditional style—not exactly either of our specialties. That was what Tony was known for. At’s betterat it than I am, my clients come to me for my hyper-realism. But this…
“Don’t youdarebreak my heart!” Atlas’ hand flies to clutch his chest dramatically as he sighs. I roll my eyes and shake my head, chuckling at the absolute ridiculousness Atlas permanently added to his body. I’ve always been the no-nonsense ‘old man’ at the shop. Even when Tony was alive, I was known as “Papa Fox” around here. I believe in having rules, working hard, and not straying from the path. How I ended up with Atlas as a best friend remains one of life’s greatest mysteries.
Atlas is a free spirit. He’s spontaneous, flirts with everyone, does dumb tricks to get laughs, shows up late, and parties too hard sometimes. I’m confident that his ability as an artist and just general good nature is the only reason Tony never fired him.
