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Reilly laughs while cleaning his fresh ink. “Aren’t we all?”
My eyes narrow, watching his every movement. “No, I don’t think so. So why don’t you let him do them?”
Giving me a devilish grin, he shrugs. “He’s good, but I’m better.”
Always so damn cocky. He’s so full of himself that I can’t help but laugh. Turning, I move into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “And you can’t do this at your place? You have to use my dining table?”
“The lighting in here is stellar. Ten times better than the lighting in my place,” Reilly calls from the dining room. I like that he’s finally started calling it his instead of ‘the guest house’ like he used to. “Plus, you don’t even use the table, man.”
I shake my head, knowing he’s right. I only ever eat there when I have people over. Which is rare. Usually I have my meals at the bar in the kitchen or in my office because I’m working.
“And what about your tattoo shop? You literally do tattoos there, so why not your own?”
His face scrunches, like it’s obvious. “Much more comfortable here, man.”
I shake my head. He thinks he can hide his issues from me, but he can’t. I don’t want to upset him right now though, so I just let it go. Grabbing a glass out of the cabinet, I fill it up and head back into the dining room, taking a seat next to Reilly.
“Speaking of your shop, you work today?” I ask, taking a drink.
His hand slaps down on the table in excitement. “I did this badass snake tattoo today where it wrapped around the dude’s dick! It was sick.”
I cough, choking on my water. My face screws up in disgust. Sick is right. I don’t get the appeal of tattoos in the first place, much less one on a man’s dick. “Why are you so excited about that?”
“Because it’s fucking awesome! Tattooing a dick while still making it look good is an art. I think my next tattoo will definitely be on my cock.”
I groan, imagining him naked at my dining room table tattooing his own dick. “Hell no. Not in here. If you do that shit, do it somewhere else, you psycho,” I growl.
Reilly’s raspy laugh fills the room. “Yes sir.”
“Enough about cocks. You heard anything good about the Snakes lately?” Reilly owns a tattoo shop on the West Side of Craibridge so he hears all the buzz, especially about the gangs. I occasionally ask him if he’s heard anything about my clients, because they usually keep shit from me but somehow become storytellers to Reilly. It makes sense for them to trust someone who is more like one of their own, than a prick in a suit. Something about Reilly makes them sing like birds, telling him everything they keep from me.
Packing up his equipment, Reilly chuckles. “I got something really juicy today. Apparently, Jemmye is fucking around with Manek and Roulette. Like, screwing both of them—sometimes even at the same time.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. Jemmye is Fang’s daughter. He may be a shitty father, but he’s extremely protective of his kids. Manek and Roulette are enforcers for the Snakes, hotheads who are always getting into trouble.
“I know, man. Fang’s going to murder Manek when he finds out.”
I grunt my agreement. Great, another murder to defend. I’m not looking forward to that, but I worked my ass off for this life so I can’t complain. I don’t know why, but Fang has a personal vendetta against Manek. He’ll definitely punish Roulette, but Manek? He’s dead.
“You still not budging on that no fucking any Snake rule? Because Jemmye is sexy—that blue hair would look hot as hell wrapped around my fist while I fuck her.”
“No!” I snarl. Reilly’s always trying to push my buttons, and he usually succeeds. “No Snakes, you asshole. Especially not her. I’d like my best friend to remain breathing.”
I don’t want him involved with the Snakes at all. We got him out of that life at a young age—which is almost unheard of—and I don’t want him getting sucked back in. I don’t think I could handle losing him.
Reilly lifts his hands in surrender. “Hey, man. I’m just messing with you. I know to stay away.”
The red isn’t fading from my vision as I stare at him. It’s one thing to tattoo the Snakes, it’s another to be a part of them.
Clearing his throat, he changes the subject. “Remember that hot chick I hooked up with a couple months ago?” I nod, still not saying a word to the idiot. “Well, she called me yesterday.”
Throwing some of my anger at him, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “I thought she kicked your pathetic ass out and said it was one and done?”
He flips me off. “She did. But I guess she was having a bad day and needed my massive cock to cheer her up.”
Why am I friends with this asshole?
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it was. She probably forgot she already fucked your needy self and thought you were someone else.”
