Kicking it With Criminals Part 1
Charlotte
It was already over a hundred degrees out by the time I made my way down the back steps of my studio apartment, and down the two blocks to Skins and Needles. I was opening up shop that day, as everyone else was coming in at two instead of noon. Jeremy, the shop owner, was going to try and make it in by one, but that still left me to open up on my own. I didn’t mind though— the extra few hours to myself would let me focus on my art.
I was fanning myself after one block, even in my flowery summer dress, and thanked God, Jesus, Quetzalcóatl, my lucky stars, Persephone, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, and every other deity out there for my luck in finding a decent apartment close to where I worked. My previous place of employment had required a thirty minute drive in a car with faulty brakes, so this was the best possible outcome.
I had worn my thick, wavy red hair down that day in a feeble attempt to feel “cute,” but by the time I reached the shop, Phoenix, Arizona’s summer charm had won. My desire to look nice went out the window, and the hair-tie I kept on my wrist ended up securing my locks in a high ponytail.
The shop’s rusty back door unlocked with some protest, and creaked as it closed again behind me. The building was old and made of chipping brick, but the inside featured a nice mix of rustic, Arizona charm and modern ingenuity. Zany light fixtures and experimental artwork hung from the industrial pipes that spanned across the vaulted ceiling, and stainless-steel tables lined either side of the space. After two years here, it felt like home.
I was flipping lights and preparing to settle down with some sketch books before Skins and Needles officially opened, but as I went to turn on some of the signs, I noticed a few men already waiting out front.
“Our hours clearly say noon to midnight, guys,” I mumbled under my breath, but seeing as it was only twenty minutes before opening, I wasn’t going to make them wait outside. When I reached the front, I flipped the sign to “open,” and unlocked the door.
“G’morning!” I said, popping my head outside. “You all waiting on something?”
The three men turned, and I immediately recognized two of them. They were from the Volkov family, one of the underground— for lack of a better descriptor— families in Phoenix. I asked Jeremy once if they all were mafia, and he said something along the lines of, “not exactly,” but I knew they operated well outside the law. I’d overheard enough during long sessions to understand that much.
There was a time when it might have made me nervous, being surrounded by dangerous individuals without anyone else around, but I had come to find an odd comfort in being on the good sides of men like them.
“It’s Char!” one of the two I recognized greeted. “I was hoping you’d be in today.”
“Hey, Nathan,” I smiled back, holding the door open for the three of them. “I’m only off Saturday evenings and Sundays, remember?”
“Why would he remember?” his cousin, Adrian jabbed. “He can’t remember his left from his right.”
“I mean, it only took three sessions on a full sleeve for him to remember my name…” I teased back, and Adrian and the new man chuckled. The three of them filled the small foyer area, nearly trapping me in a sea of broad shoulders and tight black t-shirts, and I motioned for them to come further into the shop. “Take a seat anywhere. The shop will be pretty empty till two.”
“Got anything cold?” the new man asked as he claimed a seat at a station near mine.
“Of course, ah…” I trailed off, waiting for him to fill in his name. I figured he was another Volkov. He certainly had the family’s devil-may-care looks, at any rate. They were all unnecessarily tall and strong in stature, but Arsen had a certain edge the other two didn’t. With conniving golden eyes and dark hair burned almost silver by the sun, he looked down-right deadly, and equally as mouth-watering.
“Arsen,” he told me with a slight smile. “And you are?”
“Charlotte,” I replied, extending a hand. He shook it firmly, giving it a light squeeze before letting go. “Nice to meet you! Are you here to get work done? I can sketch up a few ideas if you’ve got something in mind.”
“No, thanks,” he dismissed, as if the idea had never crossed his mind. “Just here to support my little brother. And, perhaps to see what kind of work you can do here.”
“Whoa,” Nathan interjected. “You said you wouldn’t get inked unless, I quote, ‘something extraordinary happens.’ What’s this all about?”
“Nothing,” he said sharply, effectively cutting Nathan off. I raised an eyebrow.
“So, Arsen like the act of deliberately burning shit down?” I asked in an attempt to ease any tension. It seemed to work, as Arsen turned toward me with a half-grin.
“A-R-S-E-N,” he spelled out, “but close. Why, do you think I’m hot?”
“Easy there, killer,” I laughed, turning away before anyone could see me blush. “I think you need to cool down.” I headed toward the back of the shop where we kept a fully-stocked fridge, and called up the selection of beverages.
“Uh, a water and two beers, thanks!” Nathan called back. I grabbed the drinks and headed back up to the front, where all three were seated in various spots around my work station. The air smelled of manliness and sweat, but not in a bad way. Just in a “we showered this morning but it’s over a hundred degrees” kind of way, if that makes sense.
If it doesn’t, then it’s probably time to accept that I’m a weirdo who pays way too much attention to how people smell.
“So, what’s the occasion?” I asked after handing out the drinks. I popped open a can of tomato juice for myself and leaned against my work station.
“I’m looking to add to my right arm,” Adrian chimed in, a smile blooming on his lips. “See, my lady found out recently she’s expecting, and we’re having a girl.”
“Really?” I exclaimed, having met his wife twice before. “That’s so exciting! What were you thinking of?”
He rolled his t-shirt sleeve over his shoulder where two wolves were inked. Jeremy had done them about two years ago, when Adrian got engaged, and they had healed beautifully.
“I was thinking a pup, maybe with a little pink worked in? I’m not very creative, I know, but that’s what I think I want.”
“It doesn’t have to be anything philosophical,” I chuckled. “It just has to make you happy. Want me to draw something up, or would you prefer Jeremy doing this one since your others are by him? He’ll be in soon.”
“Nah, I’ve seen what you’ve done on other people,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I trust your skill. The sleeve you did on Nathan almost makes me jealous of the dumbass.”
“Yikes,” I said, but Nathan just laughed.
“I’m still the one who gets to show it off, and the one who got to spend three sessions getting tattooed by Charlotte,” Nathan smirked. I listened to them banter with a grin as I got to work sketching out some ideas for Adrian. I measured the space on his arm and then began drawing out wolf pups in a few different poses.
As I worked, a shadow appeared on my station, a sharp silhouette cast over my drawing paper and colored pencils, and I looked up to see Arsen watching over my shoulder.
