Page 7 of Fox
“Okay,” Atlas grabs Derek by the shirt and pulls him to stand beside him. “Whose got the bigger chest, Fox? It’s me, right?”
“Boy!” Derek grunts in a deep voice as he smacks Atlas upside the head. “Next time you think about putting those filthy hands on me, you best think twice, and then a third time because I’ll come at you so fast and hard your children’s children will be scratching their heads trying to figure out how you got so broken.” Atlas stares at the man before blinking and shaking his head.
“Virginia, I’ll have you know that women throw their panties at me when I walk down the street.” Derek, or Virginia, as Atlas likes to call him, curls his lip in disgust, and his accent becomes thicker, something that happens when he’s about to pop off.
“You’re fucking vile. And if they are throwing their underwear at you… You need to quit working here because I can’t work in these conditions.” Atlas scoffs and looks at me, his green eyes full of mischief.Oh shit.
“No!” I bark out. “Do not lick or kiss Derek!” You’d think this wasn’t a rule that we had to have in the shop, but I’m constantly yelling at Atlas not to lick, kiss, or touch something or someone.I try to be patient with him; he’s a ball of chaotic energy and physically can’t hold still unless he is hyper-focused on a tattoo, but it gets exhausting.
Derek raises a challenging brow as his brown eyes zero in on Atlas. “Oh no,” his chuckle comes out low and challenging. “Come on… kiss me.”
Shaking my head, I stand and pull At to the front of the shop. “Why you insist on pissing Derek off, I’ll never understand.”
Atlas shrugs while laughing. “What can I say? I got a crush on the strong silent types.”
I stare blankly at the man. “I would be genuinely concerned for your well-being if you weren’t trying to bury your dick in any vagina that will have you.”
“Hey now, don’t be mad because I have game and you don’t.” Atlas frowns and twists his lips to one side as he looks at our sales floor. We don’t have much out there, but it’s a tattoo shop, not a clothing store. A few different styles of shirts and tank tops with our logo on them, but we mostly use it as the waiting area for clients. It’s nothing too exciting.
“So when is Red starting?” I roll my eyes and shake my head.
“I think her broom will touch down in our parking lot tomorrow. Frank said she would be meeting with the lawyers today or something. I’m so fucking pissed off she’s doing this to us.” I grunt, while running my hands through my hair in frustration. “A year! A fucking year. I swear to god, there iszerochance I won’t murder her little ass before Christmas.”
Atlas flops onto the leather couch, resting his hands behind his head. “That’ll get you on the naughty list and not the sexy one.”
“Fuck off, I’m being serious. This was supposed to be a done deal. I send her stuck-up ass checks, and she leaves me the fuck alone, and Hel’s is ours. Now I have to, what? Play the role of dad to a spoiled brat?”
“Sounds more like Daddy?” Atlas grins while wiggling his brows suggestively.
“I would rather put my dick in a meat grinder.” Sitting in the chair opposite him, I rub my hands over my face and groan.
“Fox, seriously, don’t stress so much. You know Red is only going to give you shit to piss you off, and realistically, she’ll probably be out of here in a week, anyway. I don’t see the influencer Jai being able to work here every day with four men, and actually do any shop work. With any luck, she’ll get bored of it after a week and go back to whatever the fuck it is she does.”
“And what if she doesn’t? What if she can work here?” Atlas sits up and looks at me with all the seriousness he can muster.
“Well, I guess we’ll have to get a ring light.”
Torch: Papers are signed! Officially your partner! *cowboy hat emoji*
I groanwhile looking at the text Janie sent me fifteen minutes ago. I need something to settle my stomach because it’s been churning all fucking night.Hell, it’s been fucked up since the day I got the news of Tony.
Letting out a breath, I lay back on my couch, trying to focus onThe Officeplaying on my television. It’s no use, though. My thoughts continue to torture me as they replay that shitty-ass Tuesday.
Tony always gets to the shop before anyone else. He would like to go in, sit, and have breakfast and coffee alone before the day starts. That Tuesday, his vintage muscle car wasn’t in itsusual spot, and he wasn’t in the shop. I tried calling, but there was no answer. Once it got time to open, I knew something wasn’t right, so I drove to his condo. I’ll never forget the feeling of dread when I saw his car still in its spot. And then unlocking the door and finding him on the couch.
“Fuck,” My voice is a choked whisper as I blink away the burning sensation in my eyes while trying to forget what I saw. I won’t. I don’t think I ever will.
“T-Tony,”I whisper as I look in disbelief at the man slumped over on his couch. Crouching down in front of him, it’s evident he’s passed. “Shit,” I croak, while fumbling with my phone and calling 911. Once the operator has assured me they have someone on the way, I see Tony’s phone on the table and pick it up. I don’t know Janie’s number, so I scroll through until I see “Lil’ J.” I hit the contact, and it rings three times before I hear her groggy voice.
“Daddy, I had a long—”
“Janie, it’s Fox.” I interrupt her while trying to keep the emotion out of my tone, but it’s no use. I can hear the sob trying to escape me as I look down at Tony again.
“Fox? Why are you calling me from my dad’s phone?” Her voice calls me back to reality, and it’s now I realize I’m crying. “Fox? Oh god no.” I hear the wavering in her voice, and I close my eyes.
“Janie, I-I’m so sorry.”
Torch: I think I’m gonna have to set up an area for my masseuse to come in and give me my scheduled massage. Or I guess I could just use your table.
