Page 82 of Wicked Savage Cruel
Something clicks. An idea forming in my head and suddenly, I know what I have to do now.
I push to my feet and head for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“What do you mean, out? We have class."
I shake my head. “I’m skipping. I have something I need to do. Just—” I pause. “Watch out for my girl.”
I head straight to the parking lot, ignoring Mrs. Jennings when she pokes her head out of her classroom and asks me where I’m going. Season’s over. She can give me all the detentions she wants.
I spot Henderson in the parking lot getting out of his Subaru WRX and make a split-second decision to call out to him. “Yo, Henderson.”
His head jerks toward me and he scowls.
“Come on, we’re cutting.”
“What?”
I stalk toward his car and open the passenger side door. “Get in the car, Henderson. I need a ride. Let’s go.”
Surprisingly, he does as I ask. I give him directions to The Missing Piece and have him park in the first available space we can find. There’s no hesitation as I walk inside. I don’t even need to think about what to get. I already know. He follows behind, uncertainty written across his face.
The woman at the desk takes one look at the two of us and her smile brightens. She’s wearing a low-cut tank top in the middle of winter, exposing her arms, both covered in ink. “Do you have time for walk-ins?” I ask, ignoring the flirtatious smile she gives me.
“I’ll check for you,” she turns to her computer before her gaze returns to mine. “And what about him, sugar? You both here for some work?”
Henderson shakes his head in a definitive no.
“Just me,” I tell her.
“Alright then. Henry has some time. What are you after?”
I give her a quick rundown of what I’m looking for.
She purses her lips. “Are you sure you want that on your hands?”
I nod and she goes and gets this Henry guy who comes to the front, and I explain again to him what I want. He looks at me the way some tattoo artists do when they think you’re making a mistake, but he’s not going to say anything because he’s happy to take my money.
We sit down together and he works on the sketch for both pieces. Laying the stencil on my hands we go over placement and then we’re set. He doesn’t bother asking me for ID. I’ve learned that once you have some ink, no one really cares much about adding more.
“Last chance, man. You sure?”
I nod. I explained to Henry what the tattoos meant, it’s not every day a guy walks in asking for what I’m after, and the explanation only cements his belief that this is stupid. But that’s okay. This girl is it for me. She’s not just my beginning, she’s my end. I’ve been fucking around and going through the girls in this town one right after the other until she showed up. That had worked for me these last few years. I never wanted more than one night with any of them. But with Allie, I don’t want just one night. I need more. I need her every day. For all of the days that are to come.
She’s the first person I think about when I wake up and the last one on my mind when I go to sleep. She’s not just some random. She never was. She’s the real deal. I know we’re young. I know we said we were having fun. I shouldn’t be worried about my tomorrow or my forever, but that’s what I want with her.
She needs to know she’s it for me. I’ll make the sacrifices. I’ll step up and put in the work. Because she fucking deserves it. I just hope this shows her exactly what she means to me because if this doesn’t do that, I have no fucking idea what else I can do to win her back.
It takes four hours for Henry to finish. When he does, he walks me through the usual list of how to care for the ink. What lotions to use. And gives me the reminder that hand tats are notorious for fading faster than anywhere else on the body. I pay him and give him my thanks after he covers the tops of both my hands in a thin bandage.
There’s still around an hour left of school and another twenty minutes or so after that until she gets home. I need to talk to her where she’ll feel safe. I don’t want to do it at the school. We don’t need the audience and I know the parking lot holds bad memories for her, so I decide to head to her place. I don’t want to spring this on her or make her uncomfortable, but I don’t see an alternative.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” Henderson says.
I shrug like it's no big deal because it isn’t. I’d do a hell of a lot more for that girl than just get a little ink.
