Page 74 of Fury

Turo was a mafia hitman. Turo’s girlfriend was Ciara, who shopped at my store regularly, always on the hunt for gently used vintage designer pieces. I would let her know when we’d get Prada and Chloe handbags on consignment, and she would be crazy grateful.

We’d fallen into an easy friendship since we’d first met, a couple of weeks into my job. We started going out frequently for drinks or food. The other day she took me shopping with her to the high end stores on Michigan Ave, Barneys New York, being her favorite. I put together outfits for her and the shoes to go with them, and she bought them all with a chunk of cash Turo had given her. Then with whatever money was left, we made a beeline to the store’s makeup department and did major damage together. Ciara had a couple of cute tattoos of hearts on her wrist and daisies around her ankle, so I’d asked her for a recommendation for a good, reliable tattoo artist. Someone who could be discreet if necessary. She’d sent me to Shane.

“Hey, Shane. You taking care of my girl?” came a high, sultry, female voice.

Ciara.

Shane’s head swung to the side of the divider, and I sat up.

Ciara leaned on the counter, her dark red fingernails flicking at her carefully highlighted golden hair which cascaded past her shoulders. She was stunningly beautiful, and worked hard at it every day.

“Ciara, hey,” he said. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, just checking out what I’ve got to work with.” He swallowed, his eyes going back to my tat.

“Hi,” I said, smiling at her as Shane bent over my lower body once more.

“Sorry I’m late, babe. Had a busy morning.” She winked at me.

“No problem. I just introduced myself to Shane here.”

“I can see that,” she replied.

Shane rose, his shoulders straightening. “So, you got any ideas for what you want?”

“Yes.” I pushed up on my elbows and pointed to what was left of the skeleton and his guns. “I want to hide the last traces of it with a mass of flowers. Roses, peonies. I want it to be elegant and beautiful.”

“Elegant and beautiful?” repeated Shane, eyebrows lifting.

My grandmother Eleonora had taught me about elegance and beauty. One day she’d taken a piece of lace and held it up over my skin under the sunlight.

“You see, Serena? You see the shapes?”

The shadows of the lace danced on my skin. “So pretty, Gran.”

“You can make pretty things, and you can make the things around you pretty, no matter what they are. All it takes is imagination and willpower to transform anything. Your imagination is very powerful and very special. Just like you. Never forget that. Come, I’ll show you how to make your own lace.”

I was going to make my own lace.

“That’s right, elegant and beautiful,” I said. “And pretty. Can you do that?”

Shane’s gaze darted at Ciara for a moment. “I can do whatever you want,” he replied. “How about a ribbon to go around your hips while we’re down there, tying the flowers around you?”

“I like that. But not a ribbon. A thorny vine.”

A tight grin appeared on Shane’s face. “You got it. That scar looks a little new though. I’ll work around it today, and you can come back in a couple weeks and I’ll finish over it.”

“Great,” I replied.

He grabbed a sketchpad and a pencil and began drawing.

Shane did a beautiful job on the flowers and the vine. I became a regular client of his, and Shane and I became great friends. I had him color my body with another thorny vine from the spray of flowers up around my torso and along my back. Whenever I could afford it, he’d add on new flowers and stars and moons, flying mermaids, soaring fairies, a dragon. A chain of tiny linked letter J’s up the back of my right leg for Justin, entwined with baby rosebuds. In between tattoos, I had him pierce my nose and my nipples, too.

“Why the hell did you do that?” Tania winced, sucking in a breath as I used the aftercare spray on my piercings.

“Because I’m the one doing it to my body. Me.” I carefully tugged on my sports bra.

“Didn’t it hurt? Shit.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and I let out a laugh.

“It stung for a second, but it was fine. Shane’s experienced at this.” I slid my favorite T-shirt over my head.

---