12. Tate
12
TATE
“You look like shit today,” Gigi says as she sits down next to me at the front desk of Inked.
“I feel like shit today.”
“What happened? Is Hazel okay?”
I give her a sorrowful smile. “She’s good, but something happened before they got home last night, and it has me reeling.”
“What’d Wylder do?”
I shake my head. “It was his ex.”
Her eyebrows crinkle together. “Doesn’t she live out of state?”
“Yep,” I snap before sighing. “I walked into Wylder’s last night before they got back, but the house wasn’t empty.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh shit.”
“It gets worse.”
“How in the hell does it get worse?”
I push back the arm of my sweatshirt, showing her the bandage on my arm. “She had a knife.”
Gigi jerks her head back as her eyes grow to be as big as I’ve ever seen them. “She fucking stabbed you?”
“She nicked me.”
“Nicked you?”
“It’s not that bad. Wylder bandaged it for me.”
“Oh goodness. Were the girls hysterical?”
“They weren’t there, and everything was cleaned up before they got back.”
She leans in close, dropping her voice as she gazes around to see who is listening in on our conversation. “Everything was cleaned up?”
“His brother showed up at the perfect time and took her.”
“Took her where?”
“The compound.”
“For real?”
“For real, but he said their doctor was going to have her put on a psych hold.”
She exhales. “Man, I thought they…” She runs her finger across her neck.
“I don’t think so. As far as I know, she’s alive and breathing,” I say with a shrug, because I’m only going on Thumper’s word.
“Clubs don’t fuck around, and from what I know about that one, death is always on the table.”
“Wylder is heading over there as we speak to see what’s what.”
“The man has to be beside himself,” she replies.
“He’s livid.”
“Life is way livelier up here than back home.”
“That’s not a good thing,” I tell her as I grab a scrap piece of paper off the desk and crumple it into a ball. “I could use a little quiet.”
She snorts so loud, she covers her mouth to stifle the noise. “Nah, it’s totally overrated. I mean, I could do without the knives, but a little drama always keeps the blood pumping.”
“What keeps the blood pumping?” Pike asks as he walks into the front, followed by his client.
“Nothing,” I mumble because the last thing I want to do is talk about my life drama in front of a customer. I’m used to listening to their stories, but they sure as hell don’t need to hear mine.
“We’ll tell you later. Something that happened last night to Tate,” Gigi tells her husband.
I grab my phone, busying myself while Pike cashes out his client. So far, their guest spot at Inked has been a huge success. Gigi never doubted that having the Florida crew come north to do work would be big business. Social media makes it possible to get the word out and expand their client and fan base.
The original Florida location became popular during her parents’ heyday with magazine spotlights and only grew as social media came on the scene. With daily posts, live videos, and international merch, everyone in the tattoo community learned about Inked and their artists.
As soon as I open my texting app, three dots appear. It’s like we’re cosmically connected sometimes.
Wylder: She’s locked up for a few days. Thumper has some pull with a judge and may be able to extend it to ninety.
I stare at the message, blinking rapidly. Ninety fucking days is a long-ass time. It’s almost scary to think that with a few phone calls, anyone with enough connections can have someone put away without their consent. Scary as fuck.
Me: That’s good…I guess.
Wylder: I’ll call her husband and let him know where she is.
Me: That sounds like a fun conversation.
Wylder: It’s not one I want to have.
My cousin Lulu strolls through the door, looking like she’s about to do a photo shoot for a fashion magazine. “Cousin,” she coos, sliding her sunglasses on top of her head, “I was walking by and had to say hi.”
Gigi stands from her chair and rounds the desk. “You never have an uggo day,” Gigi tells her as they kiss on both cheeks.
“I have an early dinner date with some potential investors. It’s not how I want to spend my evening, but I’m going to make the best of it,” Lulu explains.
Lulu’s trying to get a start-up off the ground, but I don’t know much about it. She’s been very hush-hush about most of the details because she’s scared she won’t get enough investors for it to become a real, tangible thing. She’s never liked to fail at anything, and I have a feeling this will be no different. She and the company will be a smashing success.
“Where are you going at this hour dressed like that?” I point to her fancy outfit, giving it a once-over with a wave of my finger.
“Some place over on Wabash near the old Marshall Field’s. He insisted I come toward downtown to meet him.”
“There are some amazing new food spots down there, though.”
“Isn’t this downtown?” Gigi asks, staring at us like we have two heads.
“We’re not downtown. We’re in a neighborhood.”
“But it’s all Chicago?” she asks, needing clarification.
“Yes.”
“Chicagoans are weird.”
“Not going argue that point,” I tell her.
Lulu looks every bit like her mom, Delilah. She’s my cousin by marriage and not blood, but it doesn’t make us love each other any less. We grew up together, causing trouble and sharing secrets we wouldn’t share with anyone else in the world.
“You know what I want,” Gigi says, changing the course of the conversation. “I want to go to Chinatown and eat before I leave. I want all the Chinese food I can fit in here.” She rubs her stomach and smiles. “I can already taste it.”
“We can head to Chinatown tonight if we’re done early enough,” I tell her.
She fist-pumps the air and does a small little hip dance.
“See, that’s not considered downtown. You said Chinatown because it’s a neighborhood,” I explain.
“Whatever. Just take me there,” she begs.
“Okay, okay.”
“I’m coming,” Lulu adds. “After my meeting, I’ll run home and change into something more comfortable and normal. Text me when you guys know if you’re going and when to meet you there. I haven’t been there in a while, and I want to spend more time with my cousins. I’ve been working too much lately.”
“We deserve a girls’ night. Let the boys do whatever boys do,” I say.
“Scratch their balls and watch sports,” Gigi adds, making us all giggle.
“Girls’ night at the Evergreen.”
“Sounds like heaven,” Lulu breathes as she pushes her sunglasses back on her nose. “I’m off. Wish me luck. I’m asking for a million today.”
I nearly choke on my own spit as she strides toward the door with her head held high and an air about her that says money. “Good luck,” I call out as she walks outside. “Sheesh. Only a million?”
Gigi laughs as she shakes her head. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin to do that.”
“Lulu has a way with people, especially men. They follow behind her with their tongues hanging out, salivating.”
“She’s stunning.”
“She is—and smart, too. But don’t think she’s always sweet. She’ll kick any man in the balls and clock him right in the jaw if he gets too handsy. I’ve seen her do it. She may be small, but she’s mighty.”
“Our daddies all taught us well,” Gigi says, and I nod because they’ve each spent countless hours showing us how to protect ourselves from any type of threat.
“Did I hear Chinese?” Pike asks from across the shop.
“Girls’ night,” Gigi calls out.
“Damn,” he barks. “I want some.”
“I’ll bring you some back.”
“Fine,” he groans.
“Men.” She shakes her head. “He can hang out at the bar until I get back.”
“I’m sure they’ll be happy to have him visit,” I tell her. “He can watch the game.”
“What game?” she asks me.
I shrug. “Fuck if I know, but I’m sure there is one.”
She slaps my shoulder as she stands. “You’re nuts.”
“I know.” I smile up at her. “But, like, you’re not normal either.”
“Normal is overrated,” she says as she leaves the room and heads back toward her husband.
My phone rings as if Wylder has ESP. “Hey,” he says as soon as I answer.
“Everything okay?” I ask him, panic suddenly climbing up my insides.
“Yeah. I just talked to Katie’s husband.”
“Oh boy,” I whisper.
Wylder blows out a long, loud breath. “He told her he wanted a divorce last week, and she lost it on him. He hadn’t seen her in a few days and wasn’t sure where she was. I informed him about what happened and where she is. He said to do whatever we wanted, he was washing his hands of her.”
I gasp, shocked even though I shouldn’t be. I guess he finally realized what a selfish witch she was, too. “Really?”
“I guess she destroyed the house and took a baseball bat to his car. He called the cops on her too, but she had already disappeared by the time they came to take the report.”
“Well, damn,” I mutter. “So, what are you going to do?”
“We’ll see what the doctor has to say, but it sounded like her husband wants her to do the ninety days if the judge approves it.”
“Of course he does.” Who wants to deal with someone clearly having an episode of some sort? No one wants her around, and that’s all because of her actions and the decisions she’s made in her life, which affect everyone else. “She’s clearly going through something.”
I can’t feel sorry for Katie. She should be in jail. She deserves it after what she did last night. But I have no dog in this fight. Whatever her husband, Wylder, and Thumper want to do is fine with me. Does that make me a heartless bitch? I don’t care.
“It’s all of her own making,” he says with no remorse. “Anyway, you coming over tonight?”
“We’re having a girls’ night and heading to Chinatown.”
“Well, if you want to drop by afterward, send me a text, princess.”
“You miss me?” I ask, teasing him.
“Always. And I know the girls would like to see you too.”
“Way to guilt me, handsome. You know I’m a sucker for those two.”
“You like them more than me, don’t you?” he asks.
I smile to myself. “Maybe,” I lie.
“I’ll take whatever I can get.”
“Maybe I’ll see you later. Give the girls a hug from me.”
“Will do, princess. Have fun.”
“Later, Wylder.”
“Later,” he replies before I hit end .
“You better go to that man’s house afterward,” Gigi tells me as she walks back into the front, waiting for her next client. “You both need each other after what happened last night.”
“We’ll see what the night brings.”
“It’s going to bring your ass to his place,” she tells me as she plasters a giant smile on her face to greet the woman walking through the door.
“Welcome to Inked. I’m Gigi. Can I help you?”
And just like that, the conversation is over.