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“Whoever did this was mad as hell, that’s for sure.”
“What makes you say that?” Jason asked, confused.
Blowing out a breath, I moved over to the reception desk, running my hand over the ruined surface, the spray paint still tacky.
“This wasn’t just a smash and grab,” I said, gesturing to the expensive computer and point of sale machine, both screens smashed, but not stolen. “In fact, it doesn’t look like they even took anything, did they?” I looked at Murray, and he shook his head, his face a picture of anger and frustration. “So, if they weren’t looking for a score, then this was all just malicious, and that feels personal, doesn’t it?”
“But,” Pete asked, his words quiet. “Who would want to do a thing like this?”
“I know who.”
I turned to Murray, my shock probably pasted all over my face.
“What, did they leave a calling card or something?”
“They might as well have. Take a look.”
Stomping across the room, Murray headed to the station at the far back of the shop, the one that had been assigned to me when I started my apprenticeship and where I had done my very first tattoo on a human being.
I kinda had a soft spot in my heart for the tired old chair; we’d been through a lot together.
Which was why it was so devastating to see the wordcuntspray painted across it in bold letters, each one seeming to scream at me in accusation.
“What? Javier?” I scoffed in disbelief. “You think Javier did this, and that somehow makes it my fault?” I asked, looking at the guys I had worked with for the better part of the last three years.
Sure, we’d never really been besties or anything. The three of them had a tight bond, and even though they’d agreed to let me train with them, I’d never really felt like they’d accepted me.
I had always been the outsider. The kid sister who they’d begrudgingly allowed to tag along, but never really made welcome.
So standing there, looking at the expressions of anger and admonishment, the metaphorical kick to the gut I felt was a real freakin’ bitch.
“You do.” I shook my head slowly. “You think I’m the reason the shop got busted up. Seriously? I wasn’t evenhere!”
“What do you expect, Ricki? It’s not like it was one of us that pissed off a customer,” Murray’s tone was one of chastisement. “You can’t just talk to clients like that, you know?”
“You talk to clients like that all the time,” I countered.
“It’s my goddamn name on the door, Ricki. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
“I get that, Murray. But I’m not gonna sit there a let some wannabe gangster talk to me like that.” Crossing my arms, I stared down the guys. “I won’t letanyonetalk to me like that.”
“Ricki,” Pete said gently, always trying to be reasonable, even when his words were condescending as shit. “He’s got a point. Javier has come in here for tats for years. It wasn’t untilyouworked on him that shit went to hell.”
“I don’t believe this,” I snapped, glaring at the guys who had done nothing but let me down since day one. “After all the shit you guys have put me through, you’re gonna stand there and give me hell over this, but not the low-life creep who actually caused the damage? Typical patriarchal bullshit.”
“That’s enough, Ricki,” Murray said, his voice low and a bit dangerous. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
“What? Aren’t we gonna clean this up?”
“Yeah,” Murray stated, his voice hard. “Weare.You’renot. You’re fired.”
I froze, my mind short-circuiting for a second.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m serious as a fuckin’ heart attack.” Murray stepped back, throwing his arms wide and gesturing to his ruined shop. “Look around you, Ricki. Ain’t none of us getting anything done around here anytime soon. Been waiting two hours for the fuckin’ cops already, and the last thing I need is some mouthy woman in my ear, yammerin’ about shit bein’ unfair.” Cocking his head, he added, “To be honest, we all expected you to quit in the first three months, anyway. Cost me a hundred bucks when you made it to the six-month mark.”
“Real nice, guys,” I snapped, glaring. Jason just stared at me, but Pete, at least, had the decency to look sheepish.
