Page 11 of When Sinners Dare

“I’m not trying to screw you over.”

“No?”

“No.”

He pulls out some pictures from a file and looks them over, flicking his gaze between me and them, before turning one of them to face me. “You did this work?” I nod, smiling a little at the last piece I did on someone while I was inside. “It’s good. Unusual. You’ve got a style all your own.” He studies it again. “You learn how to tattoo in there?”

“Yeah. A guy called Mance Raynor taught me.”

He stands and rounds the desk, pushing his lean frame into my space. “How is Mance? Still ugly as fuck?”

I chuckle. “Yeah. You know him?”

“We’ve all got a past, Kid.” He walks for the door and opens it. “Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

We walk the road until we’re at my bike, and then he hangs a right down a small back alley that leads behind the building. A steel gate gets unlocked, and then a few more turns before a flight of metal stairs upwards, and he unlocks another steel gate to push open a door.

I follow him in and look around. Smells freshly decorated. Large, open-plan lounge with some old, brown-leather couches pushed up into the corner, and a kitchen area off to the left. “Bedroom and bathroom through there,” he says, pointing to the back of the space. “And there’s a door from the bedroom straight into the premises downstairs.” He goes over to the wall to flick some switches on, probably hitting up the electric to the place. “Last guy that was in here trashed the place and stole a fuckload of shit from me,” he continues, walking to a few windows and opening them. “Don’t be him. Blade got kinda pissed and had to go find the cunt. Hasn’t been heard of since.”

I drop my bag on the floor. “I’ve got zero intention of pissing on you. I just want a chance at a new life.”

He arrives back in front of me. “Good.” And then he just keeps on staring.

I start feeling angsty after a while, tension building, frown dropping, and he must see it in me because he walks at me and gives me a damn hard shove backwards. I instantly rally against him, shoving back before remembering I’m not supposed to be that guy anymore.

“See? Pain in my ass,” he snarls.

“You fucking shoved me.”

“To provoke you. Worked, too. That’s what’ll land you in trouble again. Learn to cool the fuck down before it even starts building. Some of the guys that come in here will offer all kinds of crap to the likes of you, and then you’ll be right back where you started, Kai. This city is full of bad dudes and trouble. I’m the least of your worries.”

I take a breath and nod, choosing the wall to look at rather than him. “Anyway, there’s not much here,” he continues. “You’ll have to go buy food and anything else you need, bedding and shit. You got some money?” I nod. “You start Monday morning at seven. Finish at three. Two nights a week and two Saturdays in every month, but Richie will be in. You’ll get to see your schedule then.”

“Okay.”

He walks to the door, tossing a bunch of keys back in my direction. “And if that’s your Indian parked out front, get it brought down here and locked in tight. It won’t last long out there.”

I nod again, as he crosses out. “Viper?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. I won’t let you down.”

He frowns and keeps moving. “Yeah. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

~

The rest of the day is filled with me spending cash on things, stashing Jonny’s gun in the back of the closet, and reporting to my parole officer – Mark Donaldson – to let him know I’m at my new address. He tells me he’ll speak with Mr Rollins – Vincent Rollins, aka Viper – about it to get it set in the schedule, which is fine by me.

Viper was right, there’s nothing in the apartment but bare essentials. And while I don’t give too many fucks about things in my space, I need a little in the way of my own flavour and some food.

By the time night comes rolling in, I’m wound too tight about my freedom to even think about sleeping, so I make my way out into the dark and wander around the city to get my bearings. People are enjoying themselves on a Saturday night over on the Riverwalk, and other than a few streets leading out towards the neighbourhoods, there’s no trouble or problems to be seen.

I find a bar and sink myself into the back of it, quietly sipping my Jack and just taking some time to get comfortable with the place. The Texans are playing the Colts on a screen near me, so I watch the game and just enjoy the thought of being able to stay outta trouble. Viper’s head is screwed on tight about that shit. He’s right on too many levels. Cool down. Stay in my own lane and keep focused on work. Makes me wonder if he’s ex-con, too, given he knows Mance.

Doesn’t take long before some girl wanders over to me and starts talking. She’s nothing special to stare at, but she’s a smart type. Intelligent rather than just plain slutty. I like them like that. Pretty sure it somehow makes me feel better about myself and the years of trouble I’ve been in, and my lack of education. So, after a breath or two considering her face some more, I just give in and let it go wherever it’s going. It starts going right where I want it to go about an hour later. Because these green eyes and pretty boy looks have always got whatever they wanted out of a woman.

And by eleven, I’m in the parking lot fucking pussy in the back of a car.

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