Guns: The Spencer Book
Page 48
But f**k it. We’re in. We’re in deep. And we’ve only got two choices… sink or swim.
Rook looks at Ronin. Ronin looks at me. I look at Ford.
We start swimming.
Chapter Twenty
SPENCER
Once everyone gets back to work I call Carson.
“My man,” he says over a cacophony of girly voices. I’ve known this guy like one week and he’s changed so much I barely recognize him. “What’s up?”
“What’s up with you?” I ask back. “How’s things going over there?”
“We’re so busy,” he says in a whisper. “She’s got so many customers, she barely has room to breathe, let alone think.”
“Is she pissed off at being so busy?”
“Nah, she’s enjoying herself. I can hear her laughing back there right now. And she’s not using the plastic. Too distracted.”
Now this is the best news all f**king day. I get that dealing with the blood is a serious thing. I understand that she’s at risk of getting a disease if she’s not careful. I want her to be safe. I want her to continue to provide exceptional care to her clients. But she’s overdone it. That plastic shit needs to be over. She needs to stop being paranoid and just enjoy herself. If she wants to quit inking people up, that’s fine. But she should not make that decision based on an irrational fear.
“So she’s happy?” God, I just want her to be happy.
“Hold on.”
There’s some background noise and then I hear Veronica’s voice. She’s joking with her customer.
“Can I help you, Carson?” she asks in her sweet voice.
“Just wanted to let you know your next regular is here. That’s all.”
“Oh, good. Tell him I’ll just be a minute.”
“Will do, boss.” A few seconds later he comes back on the phone. “See? She’s having a good day, Spencer. This was a great idea. It’s been nothing but butterflies and flowers. Except for that horror show who showed up earlier. But it’s fine. This next guy probably wants something demonic too, but after him there’s two more butterflies waiting.”
“Perfect, man. I owe you some chrome on that bike.”
“And my own custom logo. And a t-shirt with my logo.”
“You’re pushing it now.”
“Nah,” he says back. “You love her. And I just told you she’s happy, so you love me now too.”
“Well, keep the bromance on the lowdown, eh? Later.”
I end the call before he can reply and lean back in my luxury chair, my hands behind my head. I sigh. He’s right. I love her and I love everything that makes her happy. I hope that when all this shit finally settles she realizes that I’ve always had her in mind. I hope she knows that I only pushed her away to protect her.
I only have to look at Ford. He’s starting to realize how vulnerable Ash and Kate are, and this confirms that I did the right thing keeping Ronnie away from my f**ked-up life. I only have to look at the fear in Rook’s eyes today. She knows she’s going to be ripped apart again next week. She knows that all her mistakes will be out in the open. And she knows that some of the things they’re saying about her are one hundred percent true and it could land her in prison.
And she probably knows that there’s a part of her that deserves to be punished for standing by and letting women be sold on her property. Just like I know there’s a part of me that deserves to be sent to prison for murder. And that’s not even counting all the f**king money we stole.
But Ronnie is clean. Ronnie is perfect. And that’s almost funny considering that most of the people in this town think she’s some feral girl from a trashy family. But she’s never been arrested. She’s never been in trouble. She’s never had to lie her way out of a tight spot. She doesn’t get drunk and dance on tables at the Sundance. She doesn’t cheat people. She might be loud, and devious, and she might plot to piss me off every chance she gets. But she’s never hurt anyone.
And that’s sorta cute. Out of all of us, Veronica Vaughn—tattoo artist, deadly shot with a .45 at forty yards, and loud-mouth e-cig smoker with big hair and bigger tits—is the only one of us who’s squeaky clean.
If I get arrested next week because Rook can’t handle the stress of testifying, I’ll ask Carson to take care of Bombshell for real. He’s gone above and beyond for me in the Bomb department. And she’s got her family. Her brother Vic will make sure she’s OK.
I go back out to the garage and start getting my shit together for the bike we’re delivering to the first big client in two weeks.
We might not make it that long.
This dream of mine might be over before it even starts.
Chapter Twenty-One
VERONICA
When I’m finished with the last girl for the night, I walk her up front and plop down on the couch while Carson rings her up. Most of her housemates have left, but the ones who were tattooed today wait for her outside in front of the shop. One blonde girl notices her paying and then the group of them swarms inside, chattering away like girls do, lifting up the back of her shirt to see the bandage. One girl carefully pulls on the tape so they can check it out, and then they ooh and ahh at it.
Yes. I feel quite pleased with myself. Today was fun. I did my three regular guys. That back piece on Chuck from Kansas, the final art for a chest piece on Stew—that one took a while because I had to take all sorts of pictures to put in my portfolio—and then my last regular was Dave from town.
Rook looks at Ronin. Ronin looks at me. I look at Ford.
We start swimming.
Chapter Twenty
SPENCER
Once everyone gets back to work I call Carson.
“My man,” he says over a cacophony of girly voices. I’ve known this guy like one week and he’s changed so much I barely recognize him. “What’s up?”
“What’s up with you?” I ask back. “How’s things going over there?”
“We’re so busy,” he says in a whisper. “She’s got so many customers, she barely has room to breathe, let alone think.”
“Is she pissed off at being so busy?”
“Nah, she’s enjoying herself. I can hear her laughing back there right now. And she’s not using the plastic. Too distracted.”
Now this is the best news all f**king day. I get that dealing with the blood is a serious thing. I understand that she’s at risk of getting a disease if she’s not careful. I want her to be safe. I want her to continue to provide exceptional care to her clients. But she’s overdone it. That plastic shit needs to be over. She needs to stop being paranoid and just enjoy herself. If she wants to quit inking people up, that’s fine. But she should not make that decision based on an irrational fear.
“So she’s happy?” God, I just want her to be happy.
“Hold on.”
There’s some background noise and then I hear Veronica’s voice. She’s joking with her customer.
“Can I help you, Carson?” she asks in her sweet voice.
“Just wanted to let you know your next regular is here. That’s all.”
“Oh, good. Tell him I’ll just be a minute.”
“Will do, boss.” A few seconds later he comes back on the phone. “See? She’s having a good day, Spencer. This was a great idea. It’s been nothing but butterflies and flowers. Except for that horror show who showed up earlier. But it’s fine. This next guy probably wants something demonic too, but after him there’s two more butterflies waiting.”
“Perfect, man. I owe you some chrome on that bike.”
“And my own custom logo. And a t-shirt with my logo.”
“You’re pushing it now.”
“Nah,” he says back. “You love her. And I just told you she’s happy, so you love me now too.”
“Well, keep the bromance on the lowdown, eh? Later.”
I end the call before he can reply and lean back in my luxury chair, my hands behind my head. I sigh. He’s right. I love her and I love everything that makes her happy. I hope that when all this shit finally settles she realizes that I’ve always had her in mind. I hope she knows that I only pushed her away to protect her.
I only have to look at Ford. He’s starting to realize how vulnerable Ash and Kate are, and this confirms that I did the right thing keeping Ronnie away from my f**ked-up life. I only have to look at the fear in Rook’s eyes today. She knows she’s going to be ripped apart again next week. She knows that all her mistakes will be out in the open. And she knows that some of the things they’re saying about her are one hundred percent true and it could land her in prison.
And she probably knows that there’s a part of her that deserves to be punished for standing by and letting women be sold on her property. Just like I know there’s a part of me that deserves to be sent to prison for murder. And that’s not even counting all the f**king money we stole.
But Ronnie is clean. Ronnie is perfect. And that’s almost funny considering that most of the people in this town think she’s some feral girl from a trashy family. But she’s never been arrested. She’s never been in trouble. She’s never had to lie her way out of a tight spot. She doesn’t get drunk and dance on tables at the Sundance. She doesn’t cheat people. She might be loud, and devious, and she might plot to piss me off every chance she gets. But she’s never hurt anyone.
And that’s sorta cute. Out of all of us, Veronica Vaughn—tattoo artist, deadly shot with a .45 at forty yards, and loud-mouth e-cig smoker with big hair and bigger tits—is the only one of us who’s squeaky clean.
If I get arrested next week because Rook can’t handle the stress of testifying, I’ll ask Carson to take care of Bombshell for real. He’s gone above and beyond for me in the Bomb department. And she’s got her family. Her brother Vic will make sure she’s OK.
I go back out to the garage and start getting my shit together for the bike we’re delivering to the first big client in two weeks.
We might not make it that long.
This dream of mine might be over before it even starts.
Chapter Twenty-One
VERONICA
When I’m finished with the last girl for the night, I walk her up front and plop down on the couch while Carson rings her up. Most of her housemates have left, but the ones who were tattooed today wait for her outside in front of the shop. One blonde girl notices her paying and then the group of them swarms inside, chattering away like girls do, lifting up the back of her shirt to see the bandage. One girl carefully pulls on the tape so they can check it out, and then they ooh and ahh at it.
Yes. I feel quite pleased with myself. Today was fun. I did my three regular guys. That back piece on Chuck from Kansas, the final art for a chest piece on Stew—that one took a while because I had to take all sorts of pictures to put in my portfolio—and then my last regular was Dave from town.
