Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Oscar
I jerk awake, forgetting where I am and almost roll off the couch. Max is standing over me with an angry look on his face.
“What the hell is that?” he says as he points at my tattoo.
Damn, the jacket slid up my forearm while I was sleeping. I pull it down as I sit up. “Nothin’,” I mutter.
“That’s crap,” Max says as he grabs my arm in his strong grip and yanks up the sleeve. “Is that ink! What did you do to yourself?”
“Keep your voice down,” I hiss and wince at the same time.
“Why? So I don’t wake the BIH?” he sneers. “What’s she doing here anyway?”
Max is in one of his moods. He gets them mostly when he feels like he’s lost control. He thinks he’s the leader of our group, and I let him because it’s easier than fighting with him. Still, there’ve been times when I get tired of his crap. Unlike Henri, I can punch Max.
But I don’t. I sigh instead. “Sit down and I’ll explain.”
“Don’t,” Henri says, her voice still sleepy as she crawls over on her hands and knees. “He won’t keep his mouth shut.”
“Piss off, ass-wipe,” says Max in a warning voice.
Great. The last thing I need is for Henri and Max to start yelling at each other. “Settle down,” I hiss. “Max can be trusted.”
She crawls a little further so she’s in our circle, then sits cross-legged. She stretches and yawns. “If you say so, Yoda.”
Geez. She must be tired if that’s the best comeback she has. “Why were you crawling on the floor?”
“Too tired to stand,” she mutters.
“Lazy, you mean,” Max sneers.
“Takes one to know one, jerk face.”
Damn, she’s waking up.
“Stop it,” I growl. I glance around quickly. “Hash is here, and probably Verity. They’re gonna hear us and come over.”
“What time is it anyway?” She looks at Max. “And why aren’t you in school?”
“Because,” he sneers as he flops down on the couch next to me, “school’s over. It’s like 3:30.”
“Holy,” Henri exclaims. “Where’s mom and Eight?”
She’s starting to get on my nerves. “How should I know?” Then I take a breath. Be the peacekeeper, Oscar.
Sean, Coyote’s stepson wanders over. He’s kind of weird, but not bad. “What’s goin’ on?” His voice always has this dead quality. His eyes are glued to Henri in a way that makes me wanna punch him.
“Nothin’,” Max says. “Get lost.”
These are the times when I stand up to Max. He’s too much like his dad. “He can stay. I trust him.”
Henri’s glancing at him, then shifting her eyes away. I can’t tell if she’s afraid of him or half-interested. “He’s not a serial killer,” I tell her feeling pissed off with both of them.
Sean’s lips turn up at the corners. He doesn’t really smile a lot. “Not yet.” He settles himself on the floor next to Henri. “So, what’s the deal?”
“Oscar inked himself,” Max announces a little too loud.
“Shut up!” I say, also a little too loudly.
“Both of you shut up!” Henri says, also a little too loudly.
Then Ash, Max’s half-brother, strolls into the circle. He’s 16 and pretty cool. His mom was married to Hangman for a while. “What’s goin’ on?” he says.
“What’re you doin’ here?” Max snarls. “I thought your mommy didn’t want you hangin’ around the clubhouse anymore.”
Ash freezes him with a look. “I feel like it.”
“What if mommy finds out?”
“Then I’ll know who narced.”
Best comeback for Max, who wouldn’t narc on anyone if he was being tortured. He does have his good qualities.
Ash looks at Henri. “Who are you?”
“Henri,” Henri says as if that’s all the explanation needed.
Ash nods. Apparently it is.
Then Brielle comes around the corner holding an apple-juice box. She takes a sip, sees Henri and plops herself down next to her. “Hi! Did you have a sleepover here?”
Good god almighty. I feel my control of the situation slipping away. “Where’s your mom?” I say, trying not to sound too hostile.
Brielle shrugs. “Don’t know. Ash picked me up.”
I feel relief that Verity’s not here, but it quickly turns to hostility. I don’t know why I care, but Brielle needs protection. “On your bike?” I ask Ash sternly.
Ash narrows his eyes at me. “In my car, asshole.”
Brielle grabs Henri by the arm. “How come you slept over?”
“Ow,” Henri exclaims.
Brielle snaps back her hand, a hurt look on her face. “Sorry.”
Henri looks like she wants to bite Brielle’s face off, but then she settles. “Just hurt myself last night. Kinda painful.”
Max’s mouth literally falls open. “You got a tattoo too!”
“Shut up!” Henri and I hiss together.
“I can’t believe this. Are you two that stupid?” Max is furious now that he knows Henri has one too.
Ash shakes his head. “Yeah. What Max said.”
“You got a tattoo?” Brielle says to Henri, her eyes wide and curious.
Sean says nothin’ which is what he usually does.
“We had no choice,” I say. “We went to the 311 Boys’ clubhouse last night–”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me!” Ash exclaims. “You got a death wish?”
“If you’d let him finish!” Henri snarks at Ash.
“Piss off!” Ash says to Henri.
I’m about to intervene, but Henri salutes Ash and says, “Pissing off, your godliness.”
Ash narrows his eyes, then turns his glare on me. “And?”
“We were looking for dad and Henri’s mom.”
“Why would they be there?” Max snaps.
“Because someone told us they were!” I say exasperated.
“Who told you that?” Max again.
“Does it matter?” Henri exclaims.
“Yeah,” Brielle echoes. “Does it matter?”
“Shut up, loser,” Max says to Brielle.
Henri’s on her feet in a flash. “You’re the loser!”
“That’s enough!” Ash commands in a superior voice. He’s 16 and thinks he’s smarter than the rest of us. “None of that matters.”
Henri turns on him with her hands fisted. “You don’t tell me what –”
“Henri,” I say softly. “Let it go.”
And a miracle happens; she lets it go. Sorta. “You’re right. I’m too tired to waste my energy on Agent Zero.”
Ash ignores her. “Let’s see the tattoos.”
“Why?” Henri asks.
Ash glances at her like he wants to squash her. “Because, I wanna see them. Is that too much to ask?”
“Fine,” Henri huffs. Henri and I pull up our sleeves to expose the tattoos. Everyone leans in.
“Holy,” Brielle breathes. “Did it hurt?” she asks Henri.
Henri holds Max’s eyes. “Not a single bit.”
“They’re not finished,” I say.
“No shit,” Ash says. “You can’t even tell what they’re supposed to be.”
“Drippy skulls,” Henri supplies. “With 311 written below them.”
“What’s goin’ on?” Hash’s deep voice interrupts, making us all jump.
Henri and I quickly shove our sleeves down. I grimace at the sting. “Nothin’,” Max says belligerently to Hash. “Not your business.”
Hash takes a long dark look at Max, then turns his attention to me. “Roll up your fuckin’ sleeve.” His voice is deadly, which is rare for him. He’s usually sarcastic.
I roll up my sleeve.
“You too, princess,” he says to Henri.
She glares at him. “It’s Seven to you.” But she exposes her forearm too.
“What the fuck!” Hash exclaims. “What the fuck did you two do?”
“They got tattoos!” Brielle says, not quite reading the room as she grins.
Hash gives her a soft glance, then glares at us. “That’s not ink, it’s a fuckin’ disfigurement.”
“Well, they weren’t experts,” Henri exclaims. “And they didn’t have time to finish because my mom and Oscar’s dad showed up at the 311 Boys clubhouse and interrupted them.”
Hash rubs his temple. “I don’t even know where to start.” He thinks for a moment. “Your parents don’t know about this do they?”
I pull the sleeve of the jacket down to cover the ink. “No. It was done mostly against our will, and I don’t want dad to know until I figure out a way to tell him.”
“Same,” Henri says as she tries to cover her ink. Hash grabs her arm before she’s got her sleeve down and inspects it. “It’s gonna get infected.”
“We used antiseptic,” Henri protests as she yanks her arm back and covers the tattoo.
“If I understand you correctly, you allowed a couple of gang-banger amateurs ink you at the 311 Boys clubhouse, which is dirty and full of shit?”
“We used antiseptic!” Henri repeats, her voice belligerent.
“How did you get it on? Dirty rag?”
“Lola’s T-shirt,” Henri says.
“Lola’s T-shirt,” Hash repeats snidely. “I don’t even want to know who Lola is.”
“I do,” Brielle says.
Hash ignores her. “Lola’s T-shirt, did it come straight out of the laundry?”
I groan. Hash is right. Who the hell knows what was on it. “What’re we gonna do then?”
“Call your dad,” he says decisively. He reaches inside his cut to get his phone, but Henri jumps and grabs his arm.
“Please don’t do that,” she begs with big eyes and a tremble to her lips that’s way over the top dramatic. “Mom will kill me.”
Max rolls his eyes.
“She won’t really kill you,” Brielle says.
Henri looks at her. “You don’t know my mom. She might.”
I rub a hand across my mouth. “Hash, if they see these tats like they are, they’ll both blow a gasket. Worse, they won’t let us get them fixed.”
Max grins. “They look like piles of poop with eyes.”
Hash looks doubtful. “If I take you to my ink shop without your dad’s permission, he will kill me.”
“He really won’t kill you,” Brielle says.
“He might,” Max says.
“He doesn’t have to know,” Henri says with big eyes. “We’ll go there. You’ll disinfect them, maybe touch them up a little.”
He looks at her. “I don’t know, kid.”
“Please.” She wrings her hands as she begs. “You don’t know my mom.”
I roll my eyes. “Dad and Selkie are probably still sleeping. They didn’t get to bed until this morning.”
“You tellin’ me you were out all night and—” Max starts.
I elbow him hard. “Shut up.”
Hash looks undecided, then takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay, but how’re we gonna get to Sailor Jerry’s? I only have my bike and the van’s not here.”
“I got my car,” Ash says. “They can ride with me.”
“I wanna ride on the bike,” Henri announces, temporarily forgetting the big picture.
“God,” Max says to her. “You have the brain of a mouse.”
He’s not wrong.
Hash ignores the side conversation. “Okay. Ash will take you and I’ll meet you there.”
“I’m comin’ too,” Max says.
I look at him. “You should stay here and make sure everyone keeps their mouths shut.”
Max raises his eyebrows at me. “But who’s gonna keep my mouth shut.”
He’s playing games. He doesn’t narc. Still, he’s getting on my nerves. “I’ll punch you in the mouth so you can’t talk.”
“If Max is going, I’m going,” Brielle pipes up stubbornly.
We all look at Sean. “I’m not good at keeping my mouth shut, either,” he says with his half-smile.
Ash says, “I can fit four passengers.”
“Which means I have to ride with Hash,” Henri says.
Hash glances at her, then to me, his eyebrows raised.
“I ride shotgun!” Max says.
I throw my hands in the air. “Whatever.”
We’re almost out the door when Henry and Zack, Haley and King’s kids, come roaring in from outside. Henry is eight and Zack is six and they’re the most annoying brats I’ve ever met. Almost as annoying as my Henri.
They stop when they see us. “What’re you doin’?” Henry the brat asks. He’s the older of the two and mouthier even than Max.
“Going to Sailor Jerry’s,” My Henri replies. Of course she does because she still hasn’t figured out that less is more.
“Don’t tell him,” Brielle says, wise beyond her years. “He’ll blab.”
“He doesn’t even know what that means,” Ash says. “And his goldfish brain will forget before we’re out the door.”
Ash is right as Henry the brat immediately flips topics. “Who’re you?” he asks, looking at my Henri.
“She’s Henri,” Brielle says.
“Nah uh,” Zack pipes up. “Henry’s a boy’s name.”
“Do I look like a boy to you?” Henri asks blandly.
I look her over. No, she definitely does not look like a boy.
Zack is in agreement. “No. But how can you be called Henri?”
“Because apparently it’s a girl’s name too,” my Henri sneers.
“No,” Henry the brat protests. “I don’t wanna have a girl’s name!”
Hash blows out a breath. “Then go tell your mom to change it.”
“Moooom!” Henry the brat screams as he takes off towards the kitchen. Zack runs after him.
“Let’s go before Haley shows up.” Hash herds us towards the door.
“When we get outside,” Hash chucks his helmet at me. “Put it on,” he says.
“Hey!” Henri snipes. “I called shotgun on the bike.”
“No,” Hash says. “I’m already gonna get fucked over on this one. I don’t need your crazy mom on my back for also letting her little precious on the bike.”
“It’s okay, Henri,” Brielle says as she consoles Henri by rubbing her arm. The one with the tattoo on it. “You can sit next to me.”
Henri grimaces in pain, but this time she doesn’t jerk her arm away. “I wanna sit next to you for sure.”
Stuff like that makes me like her.
As she heads towards the car, she gives me the evil eye. “I’ll make you pay,” she mouths.
“No doubt,” I mutter as I climb on behind Hash.