Page 18 of When Sinners Dare

Ditch rolls over carefully and tries looking down at it. So I hold my phone up.

“Well, shit. That’s fucking awesome, man.” He studies the image and then shifts sideways and pulls his shirt off. “How about this? Can you do something about this?”

My face screws up at the work on his shoulder. Some fucked-up bird and a woman’s face. “The hell is that?”

“That’s my Joanie. Supposed to be a fantasy scene.”

“Fantasy of what?”

“Like, she’s free? She died ten years back.”

“Ah, sorry, dude.”

“No, you weren’t to know.”

“Yeah. Okay, well, you send me a picture of her, and I’ll design something.” I take a photo of the shit he’s got on his shoulder. “We’ll get it right.” He shrugs his shirt back on and sends me a photo straight off. Whoever the fuck did that last piece needs shooting. “You get that done here?”

He gets up and I head for the door. “No way. This is from when I lived in Massachusetts. I was too out of my head to know any different. Been clean six years now.”

Nodding at his obvious pride about that, I walk him out to the front of the shop. Blade sits behind the desk, a furrow in his brow as he hits a key on the keyboard repeatedly.

“Blade, I need Ditch here booking in for a few weeks’ time.” He looks up at me and scowls, then keeps on hitting the same damn key. “Problem?”

“It’s fucked,” he grumbles.

“Fine, I’ll book it in on my phone. Why don’t you go get us some coffee, and I’ll take a look?”

After some semi-friendly goodbyes between Ditch and me, Blade leaves one way and Ditch the other. I sit to see if I can make sense of whatever’s going on. No luck, so I head into the corridor to find Richie. A soft knock on her door and nothing comes back at me, so I knock again and push inwards quietly. Her head whips back to look at me from the bench, and she sniffs up some tears and wipes her eyes.

“You okay? I ask.

She instantly turns her face back into the glare that’s more like her and shifts to the other side of the room with her back to me. “Fine. What do you want?”

“Computer’s crashed. Think Blade’s about to kill it completely.”

Her head nods, and she grabs the table as if she’s about to fall over. “Right. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Get the fuck out.”

I back out slowly and close the door, unsure what I’m supposed to do about female breakdowns. Especially ones that involve women like Richie. So I head back to the storeroom to find Blade and the coffee. He’s nowhere to be seen, but there is a cup of coffee on the side for me.

A while goes by with me looking through all the inks and boxes, trying to get my bearings so I know where everything is, and after that I head back to my room to start sketching something for Ditch’s piece. By the time I’m halfway through that, getting pretty fucking pleased with myself about how it’s progressing, raised voices from up front pull my attention. I listen, but it’s unclear what’s being said or who’s saying it. Doesn’t sound like Blade or Viper, but it definitely is Richie.

Opening my door, I stand in the corridor and wait.

It gets louder on her part and quieter on the guy’s part.

And then I hear her fucking scream.

I’m straight into the front room before I’ve got control of the anger flaring up inside.

She’s on the floor, with a guy’s hand trying to haul her towards the door by her hair. My hand braces the desk, and I side jump over it to get to him. Before I know what I’ve done I’ve punched him square in the jaw and sent him flying.

He’s back at me in a heartbeat, all rage and hammering fists coming on strong.

“RICK! STOP!” she shouts. “KAI!”

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