| |
It doesn’t feel right, leaving Baratta like this. I’m more concerned about his headache than I let on. I have to keep reminding myself, I’m only going to be downstairs.
The shop has been open for about an hour when a customer comes in with a yappy little Chihuahua. The yapping wouldn’t bother me but the little fucker keeps jumping up on the client while I’m trying to work!
“Lily! Arin!” I call out for whichever one isn’t busy at the moment.
It’s Lily that answers me first. Tossing her my keys, I ask her to go get Bleu’s crate from my apartment. “Be very quiet, please. Bar is sleeping.”
“You can’t put my little Mousie in a crate!” The customer acts like I’m threatening to choke her dog, which I might just do next.
“Either the little fucker goes in a crate or you leave here with one-third of a tattoo. AND you will pay full price for it. You’re lucky I have a dog crate or you would be outta here right now.” She gives in and Mouse is put in the crate.
I’m finished with her and waiting on my next client to arrive, when I realize Lily never gave me back my keys.
“Hey Lily” her head pops up from where she is doing some touch ups.
“Where’d you put my keys?”
“I left them on the counter; you were busy with that little bitch. I don’t mean the dog either.”
“Remind me to put her in the black book. I refuse to do any more work for her.”
“Gotcha boss”
I start looking for my keys but my next client comes in distracting me with work, the missing keys slipping right out of my mind.
Just when I finish up my third tattoo of the night, a loud banging sound hits the ceiling above us. We all stop what we’re doing and look up. There are more bangs and thumps, it sounds like an elephant is charging through my apartment, followed by a few moments of silence, before my brain kicks in.
“Baratta!” I yell as I run for the back door. As soon as it slams open I see a red truck fishtailing its way out of the back parking lot. I quickly take note of the make and model before running back upstairs.
My door is wide open with my keychain dangling from the lock. Pulling my gun while I enter, I can hear Bleu whining but I don’t go to him. Slowly walking through each room, it looks like a tornado hit inside, art torn off the walls, furniture flipped over and my stalker pictures tossed everywhere.
My bed, where I left Baratta sleeping, is empty. Bleu is locked in my closet. Weirdly. My bathroom looks untouched. That’s where I’m standing when Lily takes my hand, leading me back down to the shop.
“Everyone out!” She calls before we are even inside the door.
“But my Tattoo isn’t complete.” One Customer whines.
“Make an appointment to come back.”
“I don’t want to come back.”
There is no time for this bullshit; I grab the guy by his collar. “You will leave, you will call for an appointment and we won’t charge you anything for the work. If you don’t like it, I will call my brother. You know who he is; now get out of my shop!”