Leave a Trail (Signal Bend #7)(87)

oOo



Later that day, Adrienne sat on a stool at Dragonfire Ink and watched Badger have his Horde ink restored—or replaced, really. He’d still been badly hung over when they’d woken up, but he had the appointment on this important day, and he would not think of rescheduling. And he wanted her with him.

So they dropped Hector and his new crate off at the clubhouse for the Prospects to watch over, had a big, greasy late breakfast at Marie’s, and drove to Millview.

There was almost nothing left of his original ink. Tony, the tattooist who did most of the club’s ink, was starting from scratch. Despite Tony’s protests that he should wait until his scars were older, that the ink might not take as well and he would probably need retouching soon, at least, Badger wanted it done on this day, exactly one year after he’d been so badly hurt, and he wanted the same ink he’d had—the word HORDE in large letters arcing over the top of his chest, and the rampant horse down the center. This time, though, he wanted the words Never Say Die inked under the horse.

Because his chest was so badly scarred, and the scars were still fairly new, the ink was more complicated. Though he’d been unable to convince Badger to wait, Tony had gotten him to revise the design, incorporating more intricate detail rather than so much solid black, which apparently would have done poorly on the scarring. They’d blocked the whole day, with a one-hour break for supper. Badger had so few pain receptors left on his chest that he’d been comfortable for the four hours Tony had so far been working, and there was no reason to think he would not be comfortable for the entire sitting.

All of the Horde who were experiencing this anniversary had recently begun renewing, replacing, and adding to their ink, though Show had not started work on his back yet. Badger hadn’t told Adrienne absolutely everything about that day or about the business that made it happen—and she thought she was glad not to have the details he left out—but as she sat and listened to Tony and Badger talk about the scar and the ink, she filled in some blanks. The bad guys—the cartel—had intentionally destroyed their ink, especially their Horde ink, but not only that. Now that she was listening to Tony and Badger discuss the work Tony had been doing on Len and Show, too, she understood the damage to their bodies better. All their scars. Show’s Daisy tattoo torn from over his heart. She’d seen the damage; she had just never understood the intention before. Knowing the intention made it even more horrible.

The act of replacing his ink seemed to be pulling Badger out of the morning’s dark thicket. As the day went on, he strengthened and became more talkative, and by the time Tony called for a break and had his shop girl run for sandwiches and drinks for everybody, the mood in the shop had gotten lighthearted.

Adrienne had never before been inside a tattoo shop. When she got bored or uncomfortable sitting on the simple stool at Badger’s side, she wandered around, looking at the art and doodads on the walls and shelves. There were two other tattooists in the shop, one of whom, Red, had several appointments for smaller work during the day, and the other, Karen, seemed to be either having a day where she had intended to focus on other things—sketching, deep-cleaning her station—or just didn’t have any appointments. She did a drop-in tattoo for somebody, but otherwise she appeared to be both busy and not working.

The drop-in had selected an image from a hinged contraption on one wall, sort of like a giant book, the pages poster-size sheets in metal frames. Each ‘page’ was full of simple images—cartoon characters, small tribal designs, hearts, flowers, anchors, animals. Adrienne learned that those were ‘flash’ tattoos, and that none of the people in the shop had much respect for people who’d put flash on their skin. Adrienne thought some of the images were pretty and aesthetically pleasing, with nice lines. She might have chosen one for her first tattoo, before she heard the snarky things Red and Karen said about the drop-in who’d gotten a small tiger cub over the top of her right breast. Tony hadn’t said much, but he’d nodded in agreement while Red and Karen riffed.

Karen had just finished the flash when they broke for supper, so they were still talking about it while they were eating. Curious, Adrienne asked. “Is it the tiger that you don’t like?”

Karen gave her a look that said she wasn’t so sure Adrienne had business talking to her, but she answered, “It’s not the tiger. I don’t mind at all doing a really badass beast, with lots of detail. It’s that tiger, which is the same damn tiger that every f*cking tattoo shop in the entire world has in their flash book. Why the f*ck put something on your skin that hundreds, maybe thousands of other people have exactly the same?”

“But why have the…flash at all, then, if you don’t want to do them?”

Now Karen just glared. Adrienne decided that she didn’t like her much at all. Tony laughed, choking a little on his roast beef on rye. “Quick money, darlin’.” He turned to Karen. “And who are we to judge how people want to express themselves, right?”

Red, a tall, skinny guy with a long, red beard, a red buzz cut, and far more freckles than Adrienne—so many, in fact, that from a distance, his skin simply looked tan under his own ink—asked, “You got ink, girlie?”

Adrienne shook her head.

“No? Not even his ink?”

“Careful, *,” Badger muttered.

“Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to overstep.”