Page 51 of Spring Break Fling

“Fuck,” he said with a sigh.

“It wasn’t him. I just went to his place.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. He’s wasted. Too drunk to even stand up, so too drunk to lie.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “He’s still garbage but he’s not behind this.”

“Shit,” Marcus muttered. “What now?”

I exhaled hard. “I’ll call the cops. I just wanted to give you the heads-up. You’ll need to meet me at the shop. I’ll have to give a statement. We need to figure out who the fuck’s messing with us. Nothing else was fucked with.”

“That’s good, I suppose. There couldn’t have been much in the till, right?”

“I didn’t close the register. Jess did.”

“Shit. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“See you there.”

The cops were surprisingly alert despite it being one in the morning. They asked their questions, took notes, and promised to follow up. I doubted that would happen but I appreciated their positivity. Once they took off, Marcus and I walked through the wreckage together, our usual banter replaced by a grim silence.

“Think it’s someone in the neighborhood?” Marcus asked, kicking at a shard of broken glass.

“Maybe,” I said, though I didn’t really believe it. The shop wasn’t just a business—it was a community. People around here didn’t mess with each other.

“We need to step up security,” Marcus finally said.

“Yeah,” I replied, my gaze drifting to a small CCTV camera nestled in the corner, its lens staring blankly at the chaos below. “And maybe upgrade these cameras.” I gestured toward the outdated model. “This thing probably didn’t catch anything useful.”

Marcus nodded, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “I’ll call some security companies first thing tomorrow. See what options we have within our budget. I’m sure there’s going to be a whole slew of bullshit waivers we’ll have to add. We do some sensitive tattoo areas. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to record a woman getting her clit pierced without consent.”

The image made me chuckle. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to having my ass recorded all day.”

Marcus shrugged. “Yeah, well, with the way things are going, a little discomfort might be worth it if it keeps the place safe.”

“Fuck, this sucks.”

“I’ll have to call for a new door in the morning,” Marcus said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it wasn’t you. I’m glad you saw it. We might have lost all our equipment if it had been left all night.”

“Yeah, just one of those things.”

“What were you doing out?” he asked.

I flashed a smile. “Just out.”

“Shit, with that woman?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “Something tells me that woman is going to take you down.”

“Fat chance of that,” I said. “It’s just a bit of fun.”

We finished securing the shop as best we could, boarding up the shattered door with plywood we kept on hand for hurricane warnings. We swept up the glass and locked up, knowing the team had a big job ahead of them tomorrow to get the shop back in order for business. Poor Jessie would probably be on the hook for calling customers with scheduled appointments and letting them know we would have to reschedule. I didn’t envy her for that. People booked months in advance and took their ink seriously. But our shop was a war zone.