INK: A Titan Kings MC Novel FOUR

Chapter 1

Ink

1994

“Hey man!” David turned to see one of the guys from his art class running behind him. “What’s up?” David asked, coolly. “I have a job you might be interested in. You got class now?” I shook my head. “No, not till later.” “Cool, let’s walk.” He said, as he headed off in the same direction I had been heading. “So, you know there’s the party tonight at the frat house?” I nodded slowly, wondering where he was going with this. I never went to any of the parties. Was never invited, not that I gave a fuck. “Well, some of the guys have decided to get some tattoos, and I thought about you.” He told me. “No.” I said, immediately. “Ah, come on man! They’ve got money!” he told me. “Fuck no.” I told him again.

“They’ll pay you $500 for the night.” I stopped. Damn, I was doing alright for myself, but could I turn down $500? I turned back toward him. “Fine. What’s the address?” “Yes!” He smiled. “Nice one, man. It’s the Beta house on third. You can’t miss it, be there at 7.” I nodded and walked away.

My name is David Kennedy. I am 19 and a second-year student at Duke University in North Carolina. I study art and history, and that’s only to keep my parents happy. I have no interest in the past. I got my first tattoo gun last year. Emma, a rich chick I had been fucking wanted a tattoo. She had been flipping through my pad and found a drawing that she loved. She told me to make a list of what I needed, and she would buy it for me in exchange for the tattoo. I headed over to the library and borrowed the computers to get online. I gave her the list and she bought everything. She then paid me $100 to do it for her because she was so happy with it. She told her friends who then wanted tattoos too, and they told their friends. I made enough money to pay my way through college.

I decided to ditch my last class so I could get my shit prepared. I sterilized all my equipment again and grabbed the case with all my inks. I could finally buy the new gun I wanted with the money I would make for tramp stamping a few bitches tonight.

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I could hear the music playing from the next street over as I made my way to the Beta house. I opened the door and walked through, looking for the guy who had hired me.  I looked round, people had noticed me and was staring. At 6,3, I was hard to miss. “Dave!” He called. I cringed, I fucking hated being called Dave. “Kennedy is fine.” I told the guy who had walked up behind me. “Kennedy.” He corrected. “Right through here.” He pointed at a door on the side. He opened it up and led me down into the basement. He flicked a light switch which lit up a huge room. A table had been dragged down with some chairs from a dining room set. I inspected the room, it looked clean enough. I pulled out the bottle of disinfectant and sprayed everywhere again though. After an incident last year, I always made sure everything was sterilized and cleaned before setting up.

Radiohead pulsed through the room, vibrating off every surface. At least I didn’t have to listen to some fucking shit all night, I thought to myself. “What’s your name?” I asked him. “Paul.” He told me. “Ok, Paul, tell them I’m ready.” He smiled. “Will do, thanks Kennedy.” He said, almost giddily. I rolled my eyes and sat down to wait for my first customer.

By the end of the night, I had tattooed a dolphin on a girl’s back, a Celtic band around a jocks arm, a few flowers on wrists and ankles and a werewolf. I hadn’t stopped. “Here you go man,” Paul came back with an envelope full of cash. He tossed it on the table. I grabbed it, pulling the wad of notes out. I quickly counted it, nodding when I had confirmed it all there.

“You’re famous man.” He told me,

“Not interested.” I told him.

He laughed. “You think you got some money tonight? You could be rollin’ in it!” I turned to face him. “Not. Interested.” I warned him again. He held his hands up, “alright man, I know where to find you next time, ok?” I grunted. He turned away and walked out the room as I sterilized my equipment.

I heard footsteps on the stairs leading to the basement. “I told you. I’m not interested.” I warned before Paul showed his face again. “I’m sorry. I heard you were doing tattoos?” a soft, feminine voice replied. I turned quickly. A beautiful girl with skin the color of mocha, stood in front of me. She was wearing a dress showing off long, toned legs. She was tall for a girl, around 5,8 I decided. I cleared my throat.

“Err, yeah. What can I do for you?”

She smiled, showing off a set of perfectly white, straight teeth. “I want a tattoo.”

“Ok, what are you thinking about getting?” I asked.   

“I want this.” She took a piece of paper out of her purse and passed it to me. It was a picture of a compass, an arrow pointing to the North. The caption said, “Don’t look back, you’re not going that way.” It was a pretty powerful message. I looked back up at her face, looking closely, I could see the worry lines, the fear behind those beautiful honey-colored eyes. “What’s your name?” I asked her. “Why?” she asked, almost defensively. “Just interested, that’s all. This will take me around an hour to do, it would be nice if I knew who I was talking to.” That was new. I barely talked to anyone, just the odd grunt. I hated talking while tattooing too. “Tinisha.” She told me. “That’s a beautiful name.” I told her. “I am David, but people call me Kennedy.” She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

I led her to the chair and sat her down. “Have you been here all night?” I asked her. She nodded. “Yeah, my friend dragged me. I don’t actually go to this school.”

“Where do you go?”

“I don’t go to college. I work too many hours.”

“Where do you work?” She tensed up at my questioning.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.” I assured her, she relaxed again.

All of the equipment was set up again, “where do you want your tattoo?” I asked. “My arm.” She lifted her long sleeve shirt to reveal her forearm. I noticed bruising on the top of her arm.

“That looks painful.” I told her. She panicked when she realized what she had shown and tried to pull her sleeve down. “I’ve already seen it now. You don’t need to hide it again.”

She nodded slowly. “Did somebody hurt you?” I asked. She froze. “It’s ok, you don’t need to tell me.”

I asked her some more questions about her life, where she was from and what she did for a living. She answered some, not all. She was very careful about what she gave away. After I had finished, I wrapped it up in saran wrap. I gave her instructions on keeping it clean and gave her a small pot of cream that will help it to heal quicker. Nobody else got this tonight.

“Can I have your number?” I asked, just as she was slipping her coat back on. She looked torn. “Sure.” She said finally, as she wrote down her number. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said. “And I’m going to ask you on a date.” She smiled as she left.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

After I sterilized my equipment for the umpteenth time that night, I packed it away and headed upstairs. I heard the loud moaning, and knew exactly what was happening before I even saw it. 

An orgy. I could make out 4 women and 2 men, and I knew there were more in there somewhere. 

"Hey handsome, you wanna join in?" a female voice came from behind me. I turned quick, taking in the sight before me. She was almost naked, aside from a tiny jeweled thong that you see in those porno's.

"Fuck yeah." I said quickly. She took hold of my hand and led me right to the middle of the orgy. 

This was gonna be the best night of my life...