Rule (Marked Men #1)(42)

I decided on Chinese because I could grab a decent variety of things and I loved sesame chicken. There was a line and I had to wait for what seemed like an eternity to get it. It was closer to an hour by the time I found the shop and a place to park that wouldn’t take me an hour to walk to the shop. Parking on Capitol Hill was a nightmare and walking on the crowded sidewalk with bags full of takeout and my laptop case proved to be an interesting challenge but I made it and the glass door painted with an interesting mélange of old school sailor tattoos swung open before I had to figure out what to juggle in my full hands in order to pull it open. Rule took the food from me, pressed a quick, hard kiss on my startled mouth and ushered me into the tattoo parlor. He flipped the sign on the door to closed and guided me past a long, marble counter that had a series of portfolios laid out across it and a massive high-tech computer system propped up on top.

Each of the work stations was divided by a waist high wall and a mounted flat screen TV. Everything was bright and shiny clean, there was a myriad of different artwork plastering the walls and there were all kinds of interesting old school tattoo designs for people to choose from spotting the available wall space. It was visually stimulating and there was old Bad Religion playing quietly on the house sound system. It was all very Rule, it was like he had found a place to work and completely and totally embodied who he was as a person and that was just really special to see. He led me to a back room that had a table and couch as well as a mini fridge and a bunch of different stations that had drafting tables and special lights for artists to use. Sitting at the table was a middle aged man that could have easily been one of my father’s golf buddies ,except for the fact that he had his shirt off and the entire center of his chest was covered in not gray hair but a stark black outline of a bald eagle and an American flag.

Rule dumped the bags on the table and began digging through them. “Shaw this is Mark Bradley, Mark this is Shaw I hope you don’t mind if she sticks around for a bit since she was nice enough to bring us dinner.”

He started dishing stuff out onto plates that he pulled out of nowhere. “Sure thing, I didn’t know you went out and got yourself a girl, Rule, a pretty one at that.”

He winked at me over the guy’s head and handed me a loaded up plate that I probably wouldn’t even put a small dent in. “She sure is that.”

We ate in compatible silence for a few minutes but I kept checking out the bold outline on Marks chest. It was huge and seemed like such a massive commitment for someone in their fifties to be making

“That piece is pretty impressive.” He looked down at himself and then back up at Rule.

“The kid has real talent. I looked all over town to find someone that would do what I wanted justice. Rule got it right away and it didn’t hurt that his brother is enlisted so he understood the importance behind it all.”

“He mentioned it was a memorial piece for your son.”

“Unfortunately. Roadside bomb a few years ago, he was my oldest and nothing seemed an appropriate way to honor how proud I was to be his father.”

I felt tears well in my eyes. I was so used to parents being thoughtless or lost in their own grief to really express their heartache in a healthy way. I reached out and squeezed the older man’s hand while blinking away the moisture gathered in my eyes.

“I think that is beautiful.”

“My kid was a sucker for a good old school tattoo. I gave him crap every time he came home with something new. It would tickle him pink that this was the way I chose to keep his memory alive.”

“You’ll be finished with it today?” I asked Rule who was eating while standing up watching the interplay between me and his client intently.

“No. Something that big takes a few sessions. Today we’ll hammer in the rest of the solid black and the gray, get some of the highlights and all the shading done, his next sitting will only be an hour or so and I’ll get the color in it. It’s going to be classic when it’s all done.”

We finished eating and I offered to clean up the mess while Rule went out to set up for Mark. I was pulling out my computer and books to set up in the back room when he poked his head into the room and crooked his finger at me. “Come out here and post up in one of the empty stations.”

“I don’t want to be in the way.”

“Come on Casper, you make the view better.”

I rolled my eyes at him and moved to set up across from him. I settled into the surprisingly comfy chair and propped my computer on my lap. The music switched to The Gaslight Anthem and I hummed along.

“What are you studying?”

I glanced up at Mark who was making an interesting face as Rule bent over him, the constant buzz of the tattoo machine surprisingly lulling and comforting.

“I want to be a doctor. I would eventually like to work in emergency medicine.”

“That’s a pretty big goal. Why emergency medicine?”

I pulled my hair up into a sloppy knot on the top of my head. “I’ve always wanted to be a doctor, my dad is a heart surgeon but I lost a really close friend a few years ago in a horrific car accident and I guess I felt like maybe if he had had better care when he got to ER he would have made it. I want to make a difference when it matters most.”

Rule looked up and we stared at each other for a long moment before he put his head down and went back to what he was doing. Mark grunted. “That’s a pretty special girl you got there kid You better be doing right by her.”