Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“I better go. King wants to try again for another baby…”
I wince. I haven’t said anything about the miscarriage, mainly because when it happened, we were told to not mention it. “I’m sorry about that, Perse.”
Her bright eyes come to mine, and just around the brightness of the tea lights I can see them genuinely widen. “Thank you.”
On my way to the Ink Bus, I can’t get that look out of my eyes. Should that have been something I should have said to her a long time ago, after she had lost the baby? Her reaction was almost too sad to replay, so when my fingers wrap around the familiar door and I widen it to a cloud of ganja smoke, Cypress Hill, and porn playing on a projector, I know I’m going to be fine.
“Ahhh, Princess Mayhem.” I like Ice Queen better. Why don’t these motherfuckers use that nickname more?
“The tatted knight!” I drop down onto his bed, kicking off my Doc Martens and curling them beneath my feet. Maya is spread on the other side of the bed, her hair spread out beneath her, and her eyes locked on the ceiling. She has a joint between her fingers, a half-smile on her face.
“She hates that name, Linkin. Ice Queen is better.” Maya rolls over onto her stomach, her soft curls falling over her shoulder. Maya has always been that girl everyone has loved. Her bright green eyes and wild nature were also something I looked up to growing up. She just had an allure about her that made me want to be her.
“Thank you, May!” I glare at Linkin. “And I need some ink. Stat.”
He rolls toward me in his chair, his gun already buzzing. “Where we going and what do you want?” I lie flat on the bed, like Maya but the other way around.
“I kind of want to get a cherry…” Just to piss Keaton off. Would he talk to me about them if I did? Or would he cut it off me? I want to know, now more than ever, what they mean.
“Ahhh, I don’t think that’s a good idea, baby P.”
I turn my body so I can see Linkin from my view. “What does that mean? Did you do Keaton?”
“Ahhh—” Maya raises a single finger, tracing something on the ceiling as she blows out a cloud of smoke. “You want to know about Keaton’s past…” The words aren’t lost on me. I don’t want to know about his past because I’ve always assumed I know about it.
What past? He doesn’t have a past that doesn’t involve me. Does he?
“Do it.” Maya turns her head to me, her eyes glowing with mischief. “Do the cherry, right—” Maya sits up, bringing her finger to my leg and then moves it up my inner thigh. “Right there.”
“Look, I love you, but nah, man. I need my fingers right where they are, and I know that if I do that, he’s gonna chop them off.”
“What the fuck is it with the cherry?”
Maya touches the tip of her nose with her finger. “Time and place, girlfriend.” She shifts her gaze back on the ceiling and I know that I’ve lost her. “Time and place.”
“Fine,” I murmur, flicking off the button of my jeans and yanking them down the bed. I lean back again and spread my legs wide, looking between my inner thigh and Linkin. “Then do a coffin.”
“Coffin?” he asks, dipping the tip of his needle into the pot of black ink.
“Yeah. A coffin. Right near my pussy, so that every time I fuck Keaton, I can come thinking I’m burying him.”
Maya hands me the joint between her fingers and I take it, bringing it to my lips and inhaling. I hold it in for a second. “Ky found out about us.”
“He’s always known.” Maya takes the trunk back.
“No, he hasn’t,” Linkin argues. “He’s just… not wanted to think about it.” Maya and Linkin go back and forth as I zone in to the porn that’s playing on the projection screen behind him. Linkin’s bus is a lot smaller than the main ones, but it’s cozy and clean. I love that it’s clean. He’s the son of one of the men in IT, but instead of taking after his papa in the nerdy department, he let his artistry take over and is our tattooist instead. For the shows, customers can come to his bus and pay for small pieces too, but the only requirement is he chooses the tattoo.
“Please.” Maya bangs on her chest, clearing her throat. “If he didn’t know, then you’re not gay.”
“Oh, I’m gay, but he did not know.”
I snatch the joint back off Maya. “My life is hard now. Your mom, man. She was… good.”
“Good?” Maya pauses, pushing up from the bed. “No, she wasn’t.”