They say your childhood paves the way to adulthood, and maybe it does. I know mine was lit up in flames. I walked the roads of Hell until I figured out the only way to survive was to deal with the devil himself. It was the only way to escape the pain and the torment. But the nightmares are still very real. They’ll never leave me alone. The shadows of solitude follow me wherever I go.
I’m a loner. Tattoo artist by day, criminal at night.
She came in for a tattoo with a friend. It was my last appointment of the day. Black hair, bright eyes, covered in ink. I’ve been waiting for her since she dropped off her design. Her friend let it slip that she wants to be an artist, so I gave her a job. She was mine in every way but one—I’m her boss. I kept things professional.
One night I was doing a deal in a sketchy strip club. I looked up to her on stage, dancing for other men. If there’s one thing to know about me: I don’t share.
So I waited for her to be finished. Then I crossed the line and dealt with the owner for hiring her. F*ck keeping things professional.
