Dalton
~
The buzzing sound of the tattoo gun had to be the most soothing thing in the world. It was so easy to block out the world when the machine was running, and while most people would call this work, it didn’t feel like that to me.
Growing up in Louisa County, it’d been a hit or miss for the children of Ripton. There were only two sides of town, and if you weren’t lucky enough to live on the south side, then you were living in hell on the north side.
I ought to know.
Unfortunately for me, my parents, Jeremy and Beverly Summit, had been the perfect drug addicts in love, and if it hadn’t been for my grandparents on my father’s side, who knows where I might have ended up.
Granted, by the time that they had stepped in, I had witnessed enough to disillusion me forever, but I had stopped wallowing in that part of my past a long time ago.
Anyway, it hadn’t been until I’d been around ten-years-old that a teacher had noticed how I’d been losing weight rather rapidly. She had called social services to conduct a home visit, and that’s when they had discovered me living in a home filled with drugs, filth, and two strung-out addicts.
Luckily for me, CPS and the police had called my grandparents, Trevor and Adelaine Summit, and when they’d been more than willing to take me in, being blood relatives, it had cut out all the red tape that most kids in the system had to deal with.
My grandparents had also lived in Cromwell, which was how I’d ended up here, thank God.
As for my parents, my grandfather had been so disgusted with my father that he had cut him off completely, and to this day, none of us had any idea of what had ever happened to my parents, and though I should feel something about that, I didn’t.
My grandparents had tried their best to raise me well and undo some of the damage that had already happened, and I hadn’t wanted to insult their efforts by caring about two people who’d only seen me as a free check.
I also hadn’t had any maternal grandparents to consider.
From what I could remember, they had lived out east somewhere, not really having anything to do with my mother, which I could hardly blame them.
Besides, even if they’d been in the picture, I honestly couldn’t see how my life could have turned out any better than it was right now.
After all, in addition to being a tattoo artist, I also worked at Precious Pets, and who in the fuck didn’t love working with animals?
Now, even though I’d started tattooing at twenty-one, a few years later, I’d needed something to balance out the darkness that sometimes came with inking someone’s story.
More often than not, people’s reasons for getting a tattoo were more depressing than they were happy, and so when a customer had remarked on Precious Pets hiring, I had applied, and I’d been hired almost immediately.
Honestly, since most of the employees at Precious Pets were female, I’d suspected that I’d gotten hired just to have a man around when needed.
Nonetheless, whatever the reason, I was grateful for the job, and I actually enjoyed it.
At any rate, even though I made good money from both jobs, I lived in a two-bedroom apartment and drove a truck that was a few years old already.
While my grandparents weren’t wealthy, they did own their own home, and they’d made it clear that I was their only heir, and so it made no sense for me to purchase a house when I was going to end up with one eventually.
Now, while that might sound cold and as if I was just waiting around for my grandparents to die, that wasn’t the case at all.
I’d just rather live in the home where they loved me than buy some brick and mortar that I couldn’t care less about.
Besides, while I might be an asshole, nothing was more important to me than making sure that my grandparents were well and doing fine.
Though we spoke on the phone often, I also made it a point to visit them at least once a week, and I took care of everything that I felt they might be too old to handle themselves.
Now, next to them, the most important person in my life was Rya Harlow, my best friend.
We’d met on my first day at Precious Pets, and while all the other females had been treating me like the new boy in school, Rya had immediately taken me under her wing, showing me around and basically training me when everyone else had been too busy being. ..curious.
It’d also been easy to see how wonderful she was, and we had clicked seamlessly, and if it ever came down to a choice between cutting off my arm or losing her friendship, I’d slice that motherfucker right off and make her take care of me for the rest of my life.
While I’d never been in love, I loved Rya Harlow like she was my blood, and there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do for that girl.
The only dark cloud in my life was Leandra Rollins, Rya’s other best friend. Leandra worked with us at Precious Pets, and for some reason that I couldn’t fathom, Rya swore that there was more to Leandra than met the eye, only I’d yet to see it.
Unlike Rya with her wild auburn hair, sweet green eyes, pretty face, and five-three thick figure, Leandra was the complete opposite.
She was five-foot-five and had light blonde hair, expressive blue eyes, a face that boasted of doll-like perfection, and that wasn’t even to mention her body.
Leandra Rollins was the epitome of a pin-up girl, and she oozed sensuality without even trying.
Whenever she walked into a room, every man noticed, and she soaked it up like most conceited blondes.
“You know, we’re celebrating a friend’s birthday tomorrow night,” my client stated randomly. “You should come.”
Now, normally, I didn’t get friendly with my clients like that, but Gary’s been coming to me for years now, and he seemed like a cool enough guy, though we’d never hung out before.
“Yeah, where?”
“We reserved a room at Rooftop...you know, over on Goshen,” he answered. “It should be a good time.”
Most evenings, I stayed home and read or watched whatever game was on television.
While I wasn’t a die-hard fan of any particular team, I liked the competitiveness of sports, so I enjoyed watching them all.
As for my choice in reading material, I liked thrillers and mysteries, and when I was feeling particularly in a bad mood, my secret guilty pleasure was Darynda Jones’ Grave series.
However, I couldn’t remember the last time that I’d gotten laid, and I was due.
I was also as single as a one-dollar bill, and I had no desire to change my status just yet.
I was only twenty-seven, so I wasn’t in a hurry to get serious too soon.
I also didn’t have a ticking biological clock, and while I liked kids, they weren’t a deal breaker for me either way.
“What time?” I asked as I continued shading in the dragon tail of a piece that was taking up his entire left calf.
“It starts about eight, but it won’t be deep in until around ten or so,” he said before letting out a low hiss. “You should come. Seriously, it’ll be fun.”
“Sure,” I agreed casually. “I’ve got nothing going on.”
After a few seconds, he said, “Man, I have to take a piss.”
“Dude.”
“I know, I know,” he quickly rushed out.
“It’s going to hurt like a bitch if you don’t hurry back,” I warned him.
Gary quickly jumped off the table, then raced towards the bathroom, already knowing where it was since he was a regular. He also wasn’t a stranger to distraction, and if he wasn’t so easygoing and personable, he’d get on my nerves for the constant interruptions.
Nevertheless, as I waited for him to take a piss, my phone chimed, and when I grabbed my phone off the counter of my workstation, I saw Rya’s name.
Rya: Drinks @ DH Thursday?
The Dollhouse was a bar that was famous for its creepy décor.
The owner had a thing for old and broken dolls, and so it was decorated like a haunted Victorian home.
The place really was creepy as hell, but it served cold beer, had quality pool tables, and that’s what me and Rya liked.
We were pool fanatics, and we tended to ignore everyone else around us when we were in the zone.
Me: Sure
Not five seconds later, Leandra replied to the group text, and I could only hope that Rya’s boyfriend, Koen Wilder, was also going to join us. Everything was fine when it was just me and Rya, but Leandra always seemed to throw the balance off. So, with Koen there, that might help.
Blondie: I’m in
“Sorry about that, man,” Gary said as he hopped back onto the table.
“It’s not my leg that’s going to be singing in pain,” I pointed out right before getting back to work.