10. Bay
TEN
bay
“I want it exactly like this.” I hand the beefy tattoo artist my phone and go back to staring at the plethora of pictures and artwork on the walls. “And I want it done today.”
“Today?” he immediately repeats, jerking his head up to me, unable to hide the sheer befuddlement of his tone. “This is days of work. And, even then, people don’t do it over consecutive days. They take breaks.”
“Are you saying you can’t do it?” I flick my resting bitch face to him because if he can’t, I’ll find someone else who can. “Just let me know so I can take my business?—”
“There are over a dozen tats on this dude’s arm, babe.” His brown irises fall back to the screen, studying what I handed him. “I’ll need to draw them all out and—” I pluck my cell from his thick fingers and begin sliding out of the pleather chair.
This guy came highly recommended by Juice. But I’m highly unimpressed he’s giving me shit when he’s clearly not that busy.
This parlor is a ghost town.
“It’s fine,” I divulge, getting to my feet. “Thanks for your time?—”
“Well, hold up, hold up,” he double-backs, shooting an arm out to stop me from leaving. “You’re Juice’s girl. I didn’t say I wasn’t able to do it. But you’re going to be here all day.”
The guys outside watching me would love that.
Just kidding, they’re going to be pissed.
But that’s Hot Rod’s fault. I didn’t ask for my own entourage of masked men to follow me around.
“How can I help?” I solicit, as he gently takes my phone back.
“Just sit your ass down,” he mutters, looking over the zoomed-in picture of Levi’s arm again. “I need an hour…or two.” He points to the mini fridge on top of one of his tables. “Help yourself.”
Ugh.
My impatience knows I should’ve come by appointment and given this man ample time to draw up Levi’s tattoos, but I’m trying to behave here.
Cairo wanted me to calm down and relax, and this is me “relaxing.”
Matching tattoos of Levi’s permanently inked on my arm.
It’s a temporary fix. A way to distract my mind. A somewhat mellowed-out time to come to the adult-filled revelation that my sisters need me more than ever now.
Ellie is beside herself with grief. She hasn’t stopped crying since the news. Every time I look at her, her eyes are thick with tears. I hear her sobs in her bedroom, trying to muffle them with a pillow or her hand at night. The way she drags her feet around the house.
I wish she’d put the rightful blame on me.
If it wasn’t for who I’ve gotten involved with, none of this would be our sober reality. Matteo wouldn’t exist in our world to throw a target on my best friend to hurt me.
But the way Levi would go out of his way for me, up and beyond, it was like second nature to him. The man spoiled me to no end.
And now he’s gone.
He’s dead.
My stomach knots at the reminder as I sink into the chair. I’ll admit to only myself that I’ve called Levi’s phone over a dozen times to wake me up from this nightmare. I’m beyond desperate to hear his voice, but he never recorded a message on his voicemail.
All I hear is the annoying-as-fuck robotic woman who repeats his number and tells me to leave a message.
The realization is a hard pill to swallow. It’s one I don’t want to swallow. Not only is Dad gone but now his son.
His real one.
It cements the idea Dad should’ve never brought me into his home. I’m the death threat that lingered over everyone’s head and that bothers the absolute fuck out of me.
Judah was right.
That stupid fucking prick was right.
My brain warp speeds to that cool night. If I knew back then what I know now, I wouldn’t have fought him. I would’ve let Torin’s brother strangle me and take me out right there. Maybe it wouldn’t have saved Dad from the stroke and worrying if Emilio Wildes was going to find me one day. That could’ve helped add years to his life.
Now, I have Ellie and Mae—alone.
It’s not ideal.
With so many bad things and folks linked up to me, it’s the worst place for them to be. But I can’t ship them away. I can’t not know where they are. Especially since Matteo is walking around, free as a bird, and breathing the same air as me on this Earth.
Air that I want to constrict from entering his lungs with my own bare hands.
And he will come for them next.
I know it.
Juice and Hot Rod know it.
The Nameless know it.
His plan, the outcome of whatever fucked-up idea he has, it’s not going to cease until one of us is in the ground.
Matteo has the upper hand. I have two sisters to manage, my headspace to protect, and Levi would have my whole ass if I went rogue.
My whole ass.
“Miss Astor.” Glancing over my shoulder, I find one of the guys from outside—not sure which one because he has a white ski mask over his head—standing in the doorway. “Cairo Black is here to see you.”
It’s a bit eerie to have masked men following you around everywhere you go. I’ve never seen them walking outside in broad daylight, just chilling and hanging out, but here we are.
The infamous Nameless.
A gang not even the girl who grew up here has seen.
I mindlessly shake my head. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone besides the bald-headed tattoo artist and the guy standing in front of me for the next five seconds. “Not right now.”
He bows his head and then promptly turns on his feet to carry out my order.
I couldn’t get used to this if I tried.
However, they’re serving their purpose by allowing me a bit of peace and fucking quiet without Cairo and Ozzy breathing down my neck every two seconds.
Though, despite the serenity on the outside, on the inside, my brain is in full sprint mode. I can’t get that to fuck off for a million years if I tried. And, as much as I appreciate the extra security, I wish Matteo fucking would with me.
I’m fiending for it.
Chill, sis. Your time will come. And so will his.
Inhaling, I settle back into the chair and wait. I don’t care how long it takes this dude to draw this shit out. I have nothing else better to do.
Juice is out with the girls, getting their minds off everything the best he can. Movies, pizza, shopping, fuck knows what else.
I said I would go after I went to Levi’s garage—so I could just be in a space he used to always frequent—and he told me no.
So, I came here.
My cell buzzes against my thigh, and I mindlessly fish it out to make sure it’s not Juice telling me something is up with Ellie and Mae besides the usual.
But it’s Cairo.
CAIRO: I just need to know you’re fine.
My first thought is to not respond, but he’ll keep bothering me, so I do.
BAY: I’m fine.
CAIRO: What do you need?
BAY: For you to leave me alone.
CAIRO: Can’t do that. How about food?
BAY: No.
CAIRO: Drinks?
BAY: Fuck off.
CAIRO: Then Ozzy.
It surprises even me that my immediate thought is yes.
Even with Ozzy’s ties and who he’s loyal to, that he’s part of the Forsaken Crew, he is Levi’s cousin and my husband.
Someone quiet.
And, even though I don’t mind being alone, Ozzy just adds more.
CAIRO: He’s right here waiting for the green light.
I can’t bring myself to type out a response because that would mean being a bigger dick to Cairo when he doesn’t deserve it.
I want Ozzy, not him.
I want to sit here in silence and not be questioned and worried over by Cairo.
He can’t hide his concern as much as he tries. The man is fully aware I don’t need or wish to be coddled, and he does try not to. Maybe it’s something he’s used to doing with his two sisters, but I’m not part of a family with two loving parents who are still alive.
Aimlessly dropping my phone into my lap, I run the back of my finger along my chin and force myself to stop worrying about Cairo’s feelings and focus on the here and now.
I allow my eyes to close and just be .
I won’t be like this forever. The pain can’t hurt for a lifetime, can it?
They say time heals everything, but I still feel the loss of Dad every single day and how he’s probably the most disappointed he’s ever been in me.
Now he can see everything.
Every move. Every comment. Every selfish need for vengeance.
I always said I wasn’t a role model for my sisters. Never in my life did I ever want them to end up like me. But I’m not doing a good job of supporting them through this transition and beyond.
Like I said, this changes everything.
No longer will I have the support of Levi, I’m in this on my own. I will be raising two little girls and would never nominate myself for such a feat.
The hairs on my arms suddenly lift in warning, and I crack my eyes open to find blue ones belonging to Ozzy towering over me.
My breath catches a bit with a small skip of my heart as I stare openly at him and his tortured beauty. The sharp edge of his jaw is relaxed. His shoulders are lax, the subtle shadow of stubble frames his porcelain skin, and I just openly stare.
I have zero clue why this boy wants to be around me. I am the definition of a Debbie Downer.
Or bitch, take your pick.
My gaze drifts down his inked neck and the hard surface of his chest. I permit my focus to stretch even farther to his toned arms, littered with more black scattered aimlessly, and I don’t stop until I reach his waist.
Then I lose courage and draw back to fall into the pools of dark blues awaiting me.
I could ask him a million and one things, but they quickly fall to the wayside. He and I don’t need words. There’s something supernatural about us where we can sense each other’s emotions or thoughts without shit needing to be said.
I’m sure it’s easier to read me than the other way around. Over time, I’ve learned to pick up a few things here and there and have gotten better with the vibe of where he’s at, but he’s not a book I know by heart.
I’m still flipping chapters and discovering more between the lines.
Ozzy takes it upon himself to step back and sit in one of the black chairs against the wall. He doesn’t push or pry or act like Cairo’s go-to and gain information on me.
He just settles in and waits.
And I can’t drag my focus off him.
Staring at each other in such a stressful situation doesn’t feel like that at all. With anyone else, it’d either be out of pride or anger that I would face off the way I am now with Ozzy, but that’s not what this is.
It’s just being in each other’s company without the complications of syllables and memories. The extension of pain or loss.
It’s just Ozzy.
And that’s all I need right now.