Page 44 of Menace

Besides Ink, Killian and I, there were two other artists at the studio. Liz Harding and Rob Pringle, according to Pixie’s notes they both came highly recommended and were experienced artists. Rob was from the UK but Liz was a local girl. We had a piercer as well, Avery Lane. I was happy about that because I did not like piercing. It freaked me out.

I was licenced to do it but preferred not to. Sticking needles through people’s flesh was not for me. And certainly not when they wanted those very private places pierced. I wasn’t a prude, not at all, I just didn’t want to touch a stranger’s privates.

“We’re here.” Killian said as he pulled into a parking space in front of the studio.

I smiled huge when I saw the signage on the window.

Mainline Ink III - Savannah.

It looked fantastic, I was sure Pixie was over the moon happy with her new location. I moved to open my door but one look from Bren was enough to freeze me in place. He insisted on being the one to open my door because of safety reasons.

I knew it meant he wanted his body covering mine in the event of the worst happening.

Every time he did, it dampened my enthusiasm quite a bit.

I had dressed carefully for today. I was wearing black jeans and a form fitting black camisole with a black lace over shirt. My pink hair was styled in big curls at the ends and hung to below my shoulder blades. I was wearing my Goth boots and my face was made up to match.

I’d gone very natural, a nude lip colour on my lips. My eyes were lined with black liner, long false eye lashes with lots of mascara framed my purple eyes.

Yes. We decided to go crazy on the contact lenses. I had several colours to play with.

My jewellery, courtesy of Asa, was fabulous. I wore an ornate septum ring and diamond studs in both nostrils. Silver studs marched up the sides of my ears connected by tiny silver chains and my dagger earrings were in my lower lobes. My belly ring was silver with a red gem set in an ornate little heart. It only showed when my camisole rode up, which it did constantly. There was a skull ring on my left thumb, a simple silver band on my right and heavy ornate rings on both middle fingers. One had a moonstone the other an onyx, both were very pretty. Asa had such good taste in jewellery.

Because my tattoos were a way to instantly identify me Killian and I had come up with a fix. With him living in the house with us I had insisted that he had to know about the dangers. And that’s how the tattoos happened.

We were using fake tattoos, not the cheap stuff, the real expensive shit used by Hollywood. We designed them to fit with my new persona.

They were layered over and around my existing tattoos, giving me full sleeves and a neck tattoo. The tattoo on my neck was totally kickass. A heart surrounded by raptor wings. The tips of the wings ended at the back of my ears. Killian designed it and the wings and the feathers looked so real I kept touching them. The heart was red and made to look like a red gemstone. There were heavy chains connecting my sleeve tattoos to the neck tattoo. They came from the tips of the feathers on the wings and ran in loops along the tops of my shoulders to my upper arms. Another thinner set ran from the sides of the heart to the outline of an ornate heart at the top of my cleavage. Killian, the ass, had put the initials S P in there.

S P as in Surprise Package. He had heard me calling Ry that and thought it was funny. I had only realised what he had done once it was too late. It was on my skin and staying put.

Most of my tops showed off that particular part of my tattoo. Bren and Killian had grinned and winked when I muttered about it being unprofessional showing that much boobage.

Of course they won the argument, claiming I was mistaken.

Giving Brendan my hand I got out of the car. I had my phone out and immediately started taking photos of the outside of the studio to send to Pixie. Killian unclipped Ry’s seat, carrying him as he walked into the studio with me. Once inside I stood for maybe a minute just to take it in.

It was a bit like Cape Town, a bit like Joburg but also totally not. It was still in Pixie’s preferred black and white theme but not the same. The floor was done in a black and white chequered pattern, the walls were stark white and the couches were black leather.

There were three black and white photos on the wall of the reception area. One of Cape Town, one of Joburg and the last I had to assume was Savannah. Below them was a photo of Pixie next to a photo of a man I knew had to be Ink.

The reception desk was a vision of black lacquered wood, glass and brushed steel. To the side were glass cases filled with all kinds of jewellery needed for piercing as well as several rings and bracelets. From the reception area you stepped through an arch to the guts of the studio, the area where I would be working. There were six stations, three on either side.

The private piercing room was behind the last station on the left. A door on the right led to a restroom, an office with two desks and a small gleaming stainless steel kitchen. There was a break room furnished with more black leather couches and a long glass and black lacquered wood coffee table.

A heavily secured steel door guarded the back entry.

And lastly, there were cameras everywhere.

When I say everywhere I mean everywhere, even in the restroom, but thankfully not in the stalls.

I don’t know where the security office was but I felt sure we were being monitored closely.

Walking back towards the reception I saw the crates labelled with my name (my new name) stacked against the wall in the middle station on the right.

Obviously someone had decided I needed to be in what seemed to be the safest area.

“Harper.”

---