*** NEW AND IMPROVED ***
With her father missing, Shay will do anything to get him back, even if that means teaming up with a cruel gang leader and his band of psychotic men.
CHARACTER VIEWS DO NOT REPRESENT MY OWN.
***WARNING*** OFFENSIVE CON...
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SO COLD
The shogun stalled outside the tattoo store. My gaze roamed over the faded blush-red paint, the white marks on the window, the tacked-on advertisements that were decades old. It was charming, sure, for a stroll down nostalgia lane but with shiny bright tattoo parlours on the high street with black and white designs and professional design books, it was a big thumbs down for attracting new customers. The longer I sat there, the more indecisive I became. I was wavering, feet on tip-toes on a tight-rope of whether to grab my passport and leave for Shanghai or to stay my ass in bed. The sensible option was to tell the men to fuck off but I didn't think I could outright say it.
"So," I clasped my hands together, angling towards James sat in the passenger seat beside me and Irvin, in the backseat. "Uh..."
Irvin invaded our personal space, attempting to squeeze through the middle. He shouted and the pair of us flinched at his loud voice. "There is no way in hell you're backing out!"
James threw him a look of irritation, leaning away. "We're right next to you. Lower your damn voice."
"My aunt will probably say no, there's no point in asking. I mean, c'mon, going halfway across the world with a man who hates me and likewise, and Irvin? It's stupid."
"I've met your aunt. She's the most relaxed white woman I have ever met. You could say to her that you're out burning a church and she'd be like 'Have fun, sweetie! I'll get a pizza when you get back.' So let's not play the excuses game," Irvin checked out his reflection in the rear-view mirror, brushing through his curls with his hand. "I can ask her for you if you like. How can she say no to my charming grin? She looks a little traditional but the type to have a secret fetish for brown boys in sagging pants."
"Don't get ahead of yourself, boy," James furrowed his brow, reigning in his ego, "she'll report you for rape right after the two of you have sex. Steer clear of her."
I unclipped my seat belt. "Seth and I are black. She doesn't have a problem with–"
"That's what you think. Go on, get out. Get your passport. I'll have someone return your car later. The keys will be shoved through the letterbox."
Irvin jumped out of the Shogun after me. As our feet hit the pavement on the other side, James had crossed over and was sat in the driver's seat, his low voice on the phone. I touched the handle of the door. "Let me speak,"
"Relax," Irvin rolled his eyes skyward. "It's just a trip abroad. Not a hand in marriage."
Sat behind the counter on a barstool was Jade in a leather skirt and low-cut top. Her bare legs were crossed, tattooed and faded. She had the log-book in hand, chewing on the end of a pen, glancing up and relaxing when she saw it was just us. Her feet moved back to the countertop. "Hey. Where were you last night?"
"Stayed over. That alright?" I tried gauging her mood.
"A little too late to ask, isn't it?" She wasn't in the best of moods.
