Fox (Hel's Ink - Extended Book 1) by DJ Krimmer

Author:DJ Krimmer [Krimmer, DJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-30T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

fox

I’ve been in this industry for nearly twenty years. I can count on one hand, with fingers left over, how many times I’ve lost my cool with a client. I’m generally able to defuse the situation relatively quickly.

Today is not one of those days.

It’s the anniversary of my mom and sister’s accident, the day they died, and usually, I handle it a lot better than I am right now. I’ve snapped at everyone today, starting with Janie when she offered me tea because I was out of energy drinks at the house, and she’d forgotten to grab them at the store because she never drinks them. I get it; it slipped her mind, but I chewed her out nonetheless. Then, I get here, and Atlas is bickering with Derek because Atlas is still not talking to Ren, which means he's trying to pick a fight. Then Ash comes in late for his first appointment.

Now, my client sits on my table, and she hates everything I’m offering her.

“What do you think about this?” I try while drawing three circles, indicating the roses over the top of the gold frame of the mirror. The woman cocks her head to look at the paper, and I see it on her face before she speaks; she hates it.

“I-I’m so sorry,” she says softly, as if on the verge of tears. “It’s just not what I was hoping for.”

“It’s exactly what you asked for.” I try to sound pleasant, but I’m losing it. “We’ve had two consultations and—”

“Excuse me,” I feel Janie’s cool hand on my scalding neck, instantly sending a wave of calm through me. “Is everything okay?” The client looks nervously toward me and I back up, allowing Janie to talk to her. Obviously, I’m not tattooing this woman today, so the least I can do is let Torch try and stop a negative review from happening.

“You okay bud?” At asks, following me into the office.

“No,” I grunt before sitting in Tony’s chair. “Just a bad day,”

“Wanna talk about it?” It almost pains him to ask. Rightfully so, because I’m about to hurl this paperweight at his head.

“No, now fuck off.”

Atlas sighs out a “Divvva” before walking out, leaving me alone in the office with nothing but my grief and guilt.

Resting my elbows on the desk, I rub my temples, trying to dull the throbbing in my head. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to no one. I’m not sure who it’s meant for. Tony? Mom? Lacey?

“Damn it.” Slamming my fist on the desk, I force down the sob trying to rise to the surface. I hear papers fall to the ground and look around, finding the culprit. A folder fell from the vibration. I pick the papers and folder up and smirk; they’re drawings that I’m guessing Tony must’ve done over the years. Each one signed Pierce. They’re not his typical American Traditional style, but then again, I don’t always draw in realism, even though it’s my specialty. There’s an area of goddesses, battle

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