Page 54 of Four Tattoos

“Hey. Hey. You all right?” The kid is leaning forward, his face nearly next to mine.

“Huh?”

“I was asking you about an apprenticeship. Did you even hear me?” He leans back, laughing to himself. “Wow, you really get hyper focused on your work, don’t you?”

If only that was the problem. I shrug off his comments and try to actually focus my attention on the artwork, but it’s a constant struggle.

I’m not the only one, either. There’s a lot more cursing around the shop these days, and just as much, if not more, around the house.

My brothers in ink have been miserable to work and live with, all of us walking around like we’re dragging personal storm clouds with us.

I get through the kid’s tattoo, and he’s thrilled with the results, but I can’t get excited about it.

After all of our clients are gone, Hutch is up at the front counter, scrolling through the tablet that houses the shop’s records, and he looks like he’s ready to punch someone. “Mace, why don’t you have any clients booked tomorrow?” he yells at my back as I’m heading toward my stall.

“What? I have two coming in tomorrow.”

“Not in here you don’t. You need to get your calendar straightened out.”

“You need to learn to view it correctly,” I tell him, giving back as much anger and irritation as he’s giving me.

“Settle the fuck down, you two,” Zipper says. “You need to get your fucking heads on straight.”

“Stay out of it,” Hutch growls.

Zipper yanks the tablet out of Hutch’s grip and shuts down the screen. “What do you care what his calendar looks like? You’re both just irritated about Rose, and you need to get over her.”

Hutch grabs at the tablet, glaring at Zipper. “Like you’ve gotten over her? Is there some other reason you’ve stayed in your room the past two nights and not even come out for dinner?”

Instead of answering, Zipper stalks over to the couch and sinks down at the opposite end from where Christian’s sitting.

After slamming a drawer in unnecessarily hard, Hutch says, “I’m worried about her, and I know you all are too, even if some of you won’t admit it.”

When none of us responds, he adds, “Even though she tried to put on a brave face, she was upset when she left here. We blindsided her, so yeah, I’m worried about her.”

More silence.

“Do you think Rose had a point when she said things could be different with her than they were with Mariah?” Christian asks. “Were we wrong to compare our relationship with her to one in the past?”

“She’s a completely different person than Mariah,” Hutch says.

“You both have a point,” I say. “And we’re all older now. I’d like to think we make better decisions, and that we’d be able to get a relationship back on track if we veer off course.”

Christian tosses the magazine he’d been holding onto the table. “I’m definitely a better man than I was a few years ago.”

Zipper grunts in a way that could either be agreement or disagreement, but Christian ignores him.

“We should at least check on her,” Hutch says, and those words provide the first lift I’ve felt in days.

“Should we text her?” I ask, but he shakes his head.

“I want to see her face, so I know she’s okay. She could tell us anything through a text message.”

“How are we going to do that?” Zipper asks. “Shitheads that we are, we didn’t find out where her new apartment is, and I don’t think it would be good for her if we go strolling into the coffee shop.”

Hutch runs a hand through the back of his hair, head tilted, considering. “Yeah, we can’t go there. Her brother’s always there.”

“There’s Club Red,” I offer.

---