Ian cursed his older sister as his future wife left the parlor. The colorless beanie making him frown as it disappeared. What a strange girl . . .
"What do ya mean, sis?" He murmured, leaning against the glass top counters. His sister smacked his arm and he removed it, scowling in defense.
A finger wag and a warning to lay off the counters later, Jazzy and Ian relaxed on a couch in the back. The back was covered in paper tattoo designs, ranging from simplistic designs to the ridiculous. The black cushioned chair that patrons rested on was placed in the middle of a cubie, where a metal tray laden with various tools of the trade rested between the chair and wall. A small window, that opened an inch at all times, no matter who pushed or pulled, lit up the place with an eerie grey light.
"Kaya is human, so ya got that against ya already, bro." Jazzy whistled through her teeth. "But that ain't all that is gonna make you getting her all the harder." She cut off as footsteps from the backdoor alerted them to someone coming up. They sniffed the air and relaxed into their seats.
"Ian!" Ramone grinned before jumping on the couch, landing on both of his cousins. His head rested on Jazzy's lap while his feet hung over the other end, crushing Ian's abdomen.
"Hey Ray," Jazzy said to her grease monkey cousin. "You ain't gonna believe who Ian's mate is." Ray stared at the pierced-up cousin of his before turning his frank gaze on the male portion of the duo. "No shit? Who?"
"No way, guess cuz." Jazzy tsked, pushing his head off her lap. The rest of the body followed, crashing onto the floor with a thump. Ian rolled his eyes before sucking in a breath through his white teeth. Ray looked imploringly at the two as he lifted his body up from the spray-painted ground. "Lemme guess, my sexy mama Kaya?"
Ian growled, making Jazzy punch him in the arm and Ramone grin wolfishly. "No shit!" He exclaimed, standing now. "That's great, man. She's a spitfire, but pure as fuck."
Jazzy rubbed her arms, uncomfortable. How was she supposed to tell her brother about what she'd done? How was she supposed to even bring the topic up? Ian, knowing his sister's every anxiety riddled movement, furrowed his brow. "You okay Jazbel?"
The scorn in her glare would have fouled a weaker soul, but Ian was used to it. "Don't call me that stupid name. Jaz, Jazzy, ain't nothing else I'm accepting, no matter what mama named me." She spat but her heart wasn't in it. The horror of what she had to tell her brother made their playful banter dull.
Ian frowned.
"What ya hidin'?" Ray questioned, but the look she gave him had him cowering next to the older man.
Jaz heaved a sighed, rubbed her arms again, and shrugged. "Might as well. You'll find out later." The men shared a look with an etched eyebrow frown. "Like I said, Ian, you got a lot riding against ya with this mate. Kaya has some dark shit in her past. I don't know anything!" She explained as his features darkened.
"I just know," Jaz sat at the stool she used when tattooing, "that them scars on her back weren't self-inflicted. And they were a bitch to cover. You don't know how many fuck-ups I went through before I found the right ink and the right mixture."
"Scars?" Her brother growled. Jaz shrank backwards.
Ray noticed this and smacked his cousin on the backside of his head. "Don't scare your sister, man. Ain't cool."
Ian smoothed a hand over his face. "Go on, sis."
The tattoo artist smiled slightly, knowing it wasn't his fault. Their other brother was way worse when he found his mate. The poor girl broke her arm after falling from a tree and Miguel looked ready to set fire to the poor plant. It took Ameli hours to calm him down. "Look, all I know is that she has got scars decorating her back like an etch-a-sketch. A nasty one riding her spine. I think it even goes further, not like she would have showed me or told me."
A deep breath and she continued. "She came in about ten months ago, saying she's been all over the city looking for a tattoo artist brave enough to incorporate her scars into some wild tattoo design. She already had a sleeve done, the right arm was covered when I met her, ya know?" Jazzy nodded. "Whoever done it, gots some serious talent. She had me feel it. Some of them scars were so well hidden in ink, I would have never known even with my eyesight!"
"Arms and back are covered in scars?" Ian seethed.
Jazzy nodded. "It helped. We started with her left arm. That sleeve is a masterpiece, bro. I was able to hide the rope burns on her wrists perfectly. Gave me some inclination for her back." A frowned marred the dark beauty's face, the dancing fire in her eyes whenever she talked about her passion dulled to nothing as the memories assaulted her. "Scars so deep, they looked like they were originally cut to the bone. And that one on her spine, it's all thick and ropey feeling. I put that as the curve of the wolf I did up."
A slight furrow of the two men's faces had Jaz petered to a stop. Ray budged up Ian as he sat down. The jingle of the bell didn't worry them as Ian leaned forward, urging his sister to continue. "Why wolf?"
Jazzy shrugged, "It's what she asked for. A white wolf."
Ramone looked way past normal confusion. "White wolf is pretty strange for a tat?"
The native they were discussing appeared behind the beads, lost in thought. She knew they'd be discussing her, but not so open. The frown on her face fade as she pushed a sarcastic grin out and stepped through. The shifting sounds of weighed beads had the trio turning to the topic of discussion.
"Kaya!" Jaz squealed.
Kaya looked at her boss sans any other emotion. "Lunch is over, Chica." Then she turned her worry-inducing grin to the guys. Ray shifted while Ian raised an eyebrow in defiance. "I don't tell no one why a white wolf, but ya'll seem determined. My twin was murdered by a white wolf."
She turned away and went back to her job as the front desk girl, leaving the three to frown in angst. The situation was going to be a lot more difficult than the three had thought.
The day over, the night coming upon them, and the almost full moon rose to its zenith as Kaya walked to her warehouse. Homeless wafters gave out not-so-warm greetings to their fellow wafter. The native didn't acknowledge them, to which they were accustomed. Out of nowhere, this gangly but toned, scarred and covered in tats, with hair that wouldn't quit and an attitude that screamed 'fuck off' . . . woman came to them. She didn't say a thing, didn't look at anyone, and walked slow and deliberate through the maze of debris and cardboard homes. Most just ignored. Maybe the exotic female was another hooker, or a drifter, or a runner. Who cared? She was just another one to fight over the best turf. But then the native just breezed into a warehouse that none dared to enter. The place was owned by some scary ass guy who no one, not even the gang drug dealers, fucked with.
Kaya knew all of this. He even came over a week into her setting up camp. And left just as quick. The man would never admit that the female intrigued him. He had seen the scars lining her right arm, saw the thick one wrapped around her wrist and recognized someone who was tortured. Those were marks he'd know anywhere, for they were marks he inflicted to many a person. None quite so fine as the native.
Kaya had not acknowledged the man at first. He had been sat at a discarded desk chair that she salvaged two alleys over from the business district when she walked in from the hazmat shower, a towel wrapped around her body, unbraided hair dragging wet lines on the ground. She didn't stop when she caught sight of him. There wasn't a facial expression that flitted across her high cheek bones and thick lips. She just looked at him . . . and looked away. Her feet had taken her to the patch of thin material that lay across a moth-bit day bed, the faded colors comforting in the morning light.
The towel had dropped to the ground and her hair was pulled to the side as she pulled a loose yellow sundress over her head and down her body. The dark man watched. He saw the scar that cut her back in half and curled around her ass. Then she lowered her body and picked up the towel and proceeded to dry her long hair.
Finished, and sitting on her daybed and brushing her thick ebony hair, she finally looked at the man.
He had raised an eyebrow at her audacity. The man didn't come alone. No one was that stupid. His grin was sardonic as he nodded to the two gorillamen in the back who had glued their eyes to her ass the moment the towel dropped. Kaya had shrugged.
Then he had spoken, his dark voice rivaling his dark skin. "Little Chicana..." Kaya had rolled her eyes and he stopped speaking.
"I'm not no Chicana," she had put the brush down and began the painstaking process of braiding. "I'm native, through and through."
The man had nodded and began again. "Little squaw, what nerve you've got to set camp in my property."
Kaya had tied her hair off and leaned back, a slow grin replacing the stoic expression. "Being native, I acknowledge no ownership over any land." The two gorillamen had then stiffened, readying themselves to attack the woman. Their boss would surely motion for them to take her out and then throw her body someplace else. But the intimidating man had chuckled. He had chuckled. His bodyguards stiffened even more. It wasn't a dark chuckle, one that promised pain nor one that suggested any malice.
Kaya had full on grinned at this point, crossing her legs and folding her arms. The man calmed his laughter and stood up. The two men in the back relaxed their posture. It was lock and load time. The call for action was coming any moment.
The boss man had then tipped his head towards the little scarred native and turned away. His bodyguards stared impassively at the wall as the he walked past, then stared at the female who had walked off to an upturned barrel sporting a busted coffee machine. Her hair trailed behind her, moving much like a tail if it were possible. Then they too departed, confusion rippling in their dumb-as-post brains.
The memories assaulted Kaya as she walked into the warehouse and found that same man there again with the same bodyguards. They were sat in three of the four discarded office chairs. Placed on a small wooden table were takeout containersthis week was Chinese. The strong smell of pork fried rice and brandy-fried chicken brought a grin to Kaya's lips.
"You arrive!" The rich voice of the warehouse owner announced and the two gorillamen looked back and grinned.
"Indeed." Kaya smiled, crashing in the first chair and stretched. "Kill anyone this week?"
When the man and his two guards appeared again a month later, carrying Mexican takeout and a table, and set up a dining fit for a king, Kaya watched amused, not saying a word. When the two men looked for somewhere to sit, Kaya got up, held a finger, walked out and returned four minutes later with three more chairs.
Then she sat down, grabbed a container of tostadas, and asked, "Kill anyone this week?" The two gorillamen, still unused to the blatant disrespect the unusual girl showed their boss, looked ready to kill. But their boss chuckled, grabbed his own container of tamales and dug in. "Not this week."
Thus, started their Friday ritual. She'd walked in after work to find the three waiting for her to appear to start dinner. Then she'd take a shower, wash her hair, and one of the men would help her braid it.
He smiled, "He was an asshole, anyway." Kaya nodded, biting into a piece of chicken.
Thug one smiled at his little native. Both thugs had grown to love the girl and thought of her as a little sister that they'd kill without orders to protect. Their bossman felt a different affection.
"How was work?" Thug two asked, wiping a giant paw of a hand on his denim jeans, smearing chicken grease along the seam. Kaya rose an eyebrow at that, and the European man flushed. Thug one slugged him in the arm while the boss just smiled.
"Some idiot man was asking about me." The gorillamen froze, their cheerfulness disappearing as they envisioned a great evil man looking to steal away their native.
Boss sat up straight and scowled, his thick black hair in perfect place as he smoothed a strand. "Will he need to be dealt with?" Kaya smiled at him, chucking a chicken bone in the trash.
"I'll handle him. He's my boss's brother." That didn't ease any of their anxieties. Boss had looked into the native during that month away, his curiosity strong. Not much was discovered. Pictures of her with a brother as children at a Utah cabin, death certificates of her family when she was twelve, and a Tennessee missing person's report for the twins. Nothing about where she was when they were kidnapped, nothing about how she escaped, and nothing about where she's been since then nor where her twin brother was. Nothing about family that was searching for her–which pleased him.
The strong urge of protection and desire to give her everything under the sun included making sure none found out about her past.
Dinner done, Kaya stripped as she walked to the hazmat shower, listening to the men talk amongst themselves. She felt a strange fondness for the three. They never asked questions, though she knew they knew something about her. A man that powerful in the gangland would never be satisfied without knowing everything. He respected Kaya enough not to outright ask, which was a welcoming thought.
The shower warmed and she stepped underneath, letting the water wash over her tired muscles. The braid flowed and she began the process of unbraiding and washing the long curls. The process took ten minutes. As she stepped out, Thug two held the towel for her. She smiled as she wrapped it around her body and walked side-by-side with the tall angular man to the day bed. There, she dried herself and pulled on comfy clothes. Thug one dried her hair, talking with a thick accent that Kaya couldn't place about nothing whatever; something silly that had her chuckling.
Kaya would never admit that she loved the feeling of her hair being played with. Her twin brother, the one she never let cross her mind, always loved playing with her hair. A sadness dragged her shoulders down and she started rubbing her right arm.
Done, the four relaxed and chitchatted until the sun's early rays lit the sky. The gorillamen stood up, dusted themselves, smiled at Kaya before departing, leaving their boss to say his goodbye. "You need to stop by next Friday." Boss prompted. It wasn't an unusual remark, for he suggested every Friday that she should come to his the next. She always refused. She had her reasons. Boss figured she'd never, but that didn't stop him from asking.
Kaya smiled, shaking her head in amusement. "Pick me up at work." She kissed his cheek and watched as he got into his Bentley and drove off.
The tension from her birthday had passed, with nothing else happening that weekend besides the full moon on Sunday. The full moon. Kaya never went anywhere on those days. It was harder for her to keep the reigns on her animal spirit, and it was harder on her to hide. Imagine Marie Antoinette, but ten times worse. It was those nights that her connection to her brother and her fear of being found was the strongest.
Monday morning came and she swept the fear and worry under a mask of indifference as she walked to work and sat on the stool like she did every day. It wasn't like every day though, for the bane of her existence, the one that she should have met and allowed to take her away if it were different circumstances, walked in minutes later and set up residence across from her. "Yo, chica!" Kaya yelled out, tossing her backpack on the ground and yanking off her beanie.
"Wassup girl!" Jazzy yelled back, drifting in from the back with a smirk on her dolled-up lips. "How'd ya weekend go, hmm?"
"No way, chica. I ain't working with that here." It hurt her to say, and the spirit that came out a bit during the full moon whined. She knew it had to be done. She couldn't drag anyone in her shit, especially if she knew she was going to have to leave soon. Calm, Betsy. Calm.
Jazzy's eyebrows shot up. Ian grumbled under his breath. "Sorry, chica. He's working here for a bit." She said. With a parting look to her brother, the boss disappeared in the back. Kaya gritted her teeth, held her breath and counted backwards from fifty with her blue eyes closed. The usual routine settled her nerves as she hollered out, "Appointment?"
"In twenty!"
By lunch, Kaya was ready to take up Boss' suggestion of having him dealt with. She knew Betsy would kill her. Calm down, Betsy. Calm down. You can't come out yet, not yet.
"More like not ever," came the pissed reply.
Kaya rolled her eyes and made her way to eat after a quick yell that she was leaving for twenty or so. She didn't expect him to follow or do the same. The arrogant man, who had shucked off the little sting from that morning and replaced it with a teasing smirk, dogged her heel. The teeth gritting was on again as Kaya made her way to a little taco truck. Ian grabbed three tacos and settled himself next to Kaya where she sat against a tree.
The little park was abuzz with energy. It must be vacation for little tots ran about, playing. Their laughter was contagious; the tension between the two melted as they both watched. Ian even caught Kaya smiling. They ate in silence; which Kaya was very thankful for. The teasing commentary and sexual innuendos began again as they entered the Roaming Gypsy Tattoo parlor. Once the day ended, Kaya hurried out, making sure Ian wasn't going to follow her home. That night she leaned against the daybed headrest, heart pounding in her chest as the tumbling emotions raged through her. Not happening, she thought.
That was how the rest of the week went. Kaya never went the same place twice for lunch and that was the only normal sentence he muttered at her all week. Everything else he said made her toes cruel and her breath hitch. She played it off as annoyance and anger but knew he could smell her arousal. She tried very hard to kick its ass.
Friday was the same. She walked into work and he was settled on her stool, smirking. He brushed her ass as she stood in front of him, tapping her foot. At one point, he yanked off her beanie and threw it across the store. The man was like a child. The braid tumbled down; the force pulling Kaya's head back. Every now and then, he'd grab her braid and let the hair drag through his palm as she walked away or yanked it out of his grasp. When she left for the day, every vein in her body was pooling blood quickly through her heart. She was pretty sure everyone with two spirits could hear her heart beating. The flush to her cheeks didn't go unnoticed by Jazzy.
"Yo Chica," Kaya yelled, grabbing her bag and snatching the beanie out of Ian's outstretched hand, ignoring the grin plastered on his stupid face. "I'm leaving for the weekend! Be good!"
Jazzy popped her head through the beads, one getting caught on her nose. Eyes zeroed in on the offending piece, crossing for a few seconds. Jaz pulled the beaded line out of her face and smirked at her worker. "Wanna hang tonight? Bro and I throwin' a party!"
Kaya smiled. She might have been looking at the tattoo artist, but her eyes were far away. "Nah, I got a big night ahead of me." The bell jingled, drawing everyone's eyes. She smiled at Boss and Thug two as they walked in.
Jazzy stepped fully from her backroom, crossing her arms and scowling at the two men. "What do ya want?" The men ignored her, their eyes only for her employee. Jaz looked at said employee, noticing the smile and frowning. "Kaya, you know this brute?"
Kaya rolled her eyes and walked towards Bossman and Thug two. "Yep." Ian growled as Thug two drew her in for a crushing hug that Kaya returned. "See ya'll later!" Was her reply, one which she didn't bother looking back with. The three walked out to where Thug one stood with the door open to an idling Bentley. Jazzy and Ian came out of the parlor and watched as the native sauntered into the vehicle.
"I'mgoing to kill them." Kaya heard Ian growl, and she saw Jazzy put her hand onhis arm. As the car drove off, the siblings stared, frowning.