Hallows: Merciful Death

Tattoos

In This Moment- Big Bad Wolf

B.B.:

"I do everyone's tattoos," Dylan states as he shades in the scales of the snake on my left forearm.

As soon as I described what I wanted he jotted down exactly what I said with ease. I have my left hand on the backrest of the couch in the library. He's laying down comfortably as I read one of the journals the creepy toad lady gave me. These things read like little instruction guides. They're amazing. The ancient biology and medicinal techniques for our kind are sublime. I bet I can perfect them. I bet I can catalogue what we are on a chemical level. Pin point the genetics that are causing these strange alterations in our brains. Maybe. Maybe it'll be wrong to mess with something people shouldn't have been messing with in the first place. There are just too many variables. Moral and illogical ones.

"Who does yours?" I ask pushing aside my sick thoughts. Just because I can do something doesn't mean I should.

"My mom," he answers.

"Your mom? Is she..?" like us.

"No, I got it from my dad. He died when I was nine," he smirks. "You're doing great considering this is your first time,"

"I thought it would hurt more, honestly," I admit. I always thought being probed repeatedly by needles like this would be insane but it turns out that there are other things far worse than a tattoo. Like carving the initials of all the girls someone raped onto their skin.

"Did you ever consider getting one? Your sister loved this s**t. Double sleeves. Some of my best work," my sister's tattoos were magnificent.

"She did," I nod. "I remember the first time my mom saw her. I thought she was going to have a heart attack,"

"Yeah, she did mention you loving her reaction," he smirks looking up at me. Those who wouldn't know any better would think that the position we're in is kind of inappropriate.

"I did consider it. A lot. Just for that reason," we both laugh. "I didn't know what I wanted though but the moment I saw her on my arm, I knew,"

"Her?" he squints his eyes.

"The black mamba,"I clarify.

"Right," he rolls his eyes to himself. "All right. You're all set,"

I stand up straight, letting him sit up. We both inspected it. Instead of white roses, he did white and pink Lillies. The gentler ink colors hurt the most. Especially the white. He said it was because he needed to go a little deeper for it to stay. He had a sketch of the lilies in his notebook. He said it was a piece he had been working on for Delilah's right calf. When I asked him if he could add those instead of the white roses he was more than happy too.

"It's beautiful," I praise him.

"I'm glad you like it," his eyes sparkle as if I've just paid him the greatest compliment in the world.

"How much do I owe you?"

"No, no. I don't charge the team," he shakes his head giving me a hurt look as if I just insulted him.

"Okay, at least let me buy you some supplies," I insist. I grab my tablet off the table as he begins to wipe down my arm in order to put the wrap on it. "Seriously, I insist," I hand him the tablet with the sss app open. He smiles. "Whatever you need and want,"

"Thanks," he agrees. He knows I'm not going to back down and if doesn't get what he prefers I'll guess.

"There is a blacked-out charger pulling up," Marco catches my attention. Once Dylan covers my arm and hand properly, I go over to the window behind the desk to see detective Espinosa's charger coming down the pathway.

"It's Espinosa," I inform them.

"What does that f*****g tool want?" Carson scoffs.

"Stay here. Put something cool on. Don't put your stuff away just yet, Dylan. We've been here all night," I close the curtain and walk over to the front door. I pull my sleeve down. I don't need him to give me s**t right away but I am going to show it to him for our alibi.

"Good afternoon, B.B," he and his partner got out of his car.

"Hey," I greet them. "Is the business or personal?"

"Casual," he shrugs. Right. What an asshole.

"Okay, want some pop?" I offer. "I have friends over,"

"I won't be long. I just have some questions," he waves off my offer. See, ass hole.

"Yeah, sure. Mom's not here so don't worry about getting chewed out," I wave him in.

The two of them follow me into the house. I shut the door behind me. Detective Lovewell looks up at the chandelier and shutters as they moved toward the library to the left. I follow behind them. Espinosa tenses up when he sees everyone here. The usual culprits are all lounging around the living room as if they live here. I wouldn't be opposed to the idea, actually.

"Guys, you remember Detective Espinosa and his partner Detective Lovewell? They're checking in," I inform them.

"What's up," Luc waves at them with a little smirk on his face.

"You guys hanging out?" Espinosa asks.

"Yeah," I nod. "What kind of pop do you guys want? I have cola, crush, Dr. pepper,"

"I'll have a Dr. Pepper," Lovewell doesn't hesitate.

"Do you have water?" Espinosa asks.

"You'll have the crush. I got the glass ones you like," I roll my eyes. He laughs and nods. Stacy stampedes down the stairs and freezes when she see them.

"Uh, are we getting arrested?" she asks, putting her hands up.

"No, he's checking in," I laugh going over to the kitchen.

I grab a beer bucket and put a bunch of bottles in it. I take them out with me. The detectives take one when I pass them. I hand them the cute heart bottle opener Espinosa got my sister the year before she died. He looks it over guilty before opening the bottle and handing it over to his partner. This is off to a good start.

"What were you guys doing?" he asks taking a drink.

"Tats," Dylan answers.

"Yeah? You working again?" he asks him but it almost sounds like a dare.

"Nah, B.B just wanted something to remind her of her dad and her sister. I have a sweet spot for little damsels," he smiles tipping my chin when I offered him two of the last bottles. He takes the orange crush leaving me the cola. The bottle opener is passed around the room like a blunt and I try not to laugh. Carson gets up to open my bottle. He stands in front of me, his eyes have a strange glint in them.

"Let's see it," Espinosa breaks our eye contact before he takes a drink from his bottle. I clear my throat and pull my sleeve up over the clear bandage wrap on my arm. I push it all the way up to my elbow where it ends. I went over to him. He gently turns my arm over inspecting it. He let out a little whistle. "It's beautiful,"

"Thank you," I smile. "Mom's going to kill me,"

"She knew it was coming. Is that what you guys been up to?" he asks.

"Yeah, there was a Walking Dead marathon last night. Maggie made us ribs," I pull my sleeve down. Iron-clad alibi. Good thing Dylan is a master at his craft.

"Have you guys heard of what happened to Cash Monroe?" Espinosa asks.

"Who?" Luc asks.

"You mean Cassius?" I ask.

"Yes," he nods.

"What happened?" I play along. I hold my bottle out to Dylan so he can set it down on the coffee table near his equipment. I don't miss how Lovewell's eyes scan the table.

"Uh, he was found at the school this morning. Someone worked him over with a knife," Lovewell answers me.

"A knife? Like he was stabbed?" I ask trying to express worry. "Have you guys called Shane?"

"Why would we call Shane?"

"What do you mean? They're best friends. Like brothers. When we were dating, Cassius was practically glued to his hip all the time. It was kind of annoying,"

"I-no. We haven't called him," Espinosa looks back at his partner who is already writing it down.

"I can't believe someone stabbed him. Is he-" I pause for dramatic effect.

"Is he?" Espinosa presses. I leaned into him. He lowered his head so I can whisper into his ear.

"Dead?" I say as cautiously as possible. I can play the innocent card with him to the point. This man thinks he knows everything about me. He knows the me who tried to stay away from my family affairs. The me who ran away from the darkness.

"No," he tries not to smile. "He's in surgery,"

"Oh," I nod stepping away from him. I let out a sigh of relief.

"What kind of ink is this?" he asks going over to the coffee table. He picks up the bottle of black ink.

"That, sir," Dylan takes it out of his hand possessively. "Is Thomas Carli Jalier Noire. It's the best ink you can find on the market. It's pricey but the results speak for themselves," he looks over at my arm and then at Carson who is covered in the stuff.

"Interesting. It might be a coincidence but someone carved some letters all over his torso and then poured black ink all over him,"

"f**k," Marco says it the same way he had last night. "Ruthless,"

"Oh, my god. Did he say why?" I ask faking worry. I mean Cash and I were never really friends but we were part of the same inner circle once. It would make sense for me to worry about him.

"No, but they also carved the word rapist into his forehead," he adds.

"Holy s**t," Stacy blurts out following my lead.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Espinosa asks. "The rapist part,"

"I mean I've heard rumors," Stacy continues. "I never really believed them. I mean, Cassius Monroe is a hottie. I didn't think he would stoop so low or that he had to,"

"Yeah, he was always super nice to me," I agree.

"Okay," he nods. "What about you guys? Ever hear anything?"

"Nah, man. I'm not even sure who it is we're talking about," Carson answers. "We don't hang with squares,"

"You're sitting in Belladonna Blackstone's library. Perfect grades, ideal curricula in the making, jock,"

"Not anymore," he smirks. "The jock part I mean. You'll find that the rest of our curricula is just as proficient as hers. Although, Stacy sometimes needs a little extra help,"

"Shut up, Carson," she snips.

"Cassius, the guy that's always hanging around Melonie Halestorm. She dyes her hair bright red," I tell them.

"Melonie Halestorm?" Lovewell asks. "The eldest of the Mayor's daughters?"

"Yeah, uh she's one of Shane's little sisters. She's a sweetie. She hangs out with the hipster kids," I tell him.

"Oh, yeah. That kid with the big stud earrings," Luc nods. "I know who you're talking about now. Damn, that's crazy. If he is a rapist, he f****d with the wrong chick,"

"You good here?" Espinosa asks me dismissing them. "Your mom said you guys argued before she left,"

"I'm fine," I turn away. It annoys me that my mom talks to Espinosa about me when she's away. They're divorced now. She shouldn't be talking to him at all. I thought that was the point. "You're not my dad, David. You're not even my stepdad anymore. Where was your concern when I was home alone for two years sleeping right in front of that chandelier, hmm?"

"You're not the only one who lost her, B.B,"

"No, I wasn't but I am the one who has to walk under her feet every time I come in or out of the house. Alone," I almost hiss at him. "If you're done, don't let the door hit you on the way out,"

"Why do you do that? Every time I think I'm inching closer you shove me back. Every single time," he shakes his head.

"You left me, David. Just like Ashley did. I was a little kid. I needed you and you made it very clear that you didn't want anything to do with me. I don't need you anymore. Just go. There are hundreds of pretty single moms out there you can f**k with. Maybe one of them needs you to ask if they're good,"

He looks around the room before stepping away.

"Thank you for being cooperative with us. Do you mind if I get a sample of that ink?" he asks Dylan. Dylan gets up and takes a little round container. He fills it with the black ink he has. He comes over and hands it to him.

"I can make you a list of local ink brands. I have this one imported," he suggests.

"Yeah, thanks, kid. Have B.B. send it to me,"

"Thanks for the drink," Lovewell holds the bottle up. He takes it with him. I walk them out and stay on the porch. Espinosa picks up his s**t from the driveway and puts it in his trunk before they leave. He stops looking over the top of his car at me and then gets into it. I don't wait to watch him leave the gate.

"Hurting his feelings before he goes is a good tactic," Luc says behind me.

"Learned that one from my mother," I say masking the ugly taste of what I just did with a smile.

It's not a lie. When my mom wants to have her away she uses guilt to get it. She uses it on me all the time and despite me knowing what she's doing, I fall for it. I let it consume me and I give her what she wants. It never fails. It's why I just do as she asks now. I don't fight it anymore. There's no point. I always give her what she wants.

"The beautiful Mrs. Blackstone. I see where you get that rage in you. Hispanic women," he presses his lips to the tips of his fingers and blew me a kiss. I smile remembering the supposed compliment Carson gave me during first period not long ago. He looks at me as if he remembers, himself.

"Oh, he can say that and you blush but I get a slap to the back of my head?" he sneers at me.

"You straight up said, I was as hot as my mom," I shake my head. The others laugh.

"Oh, sweetie. You don't say that to a girl. Especially a girl who not only looks like her mom but loves like her," Stacy mumbles as her thumbs tap away at her phone. "It's like asking to be murdered on the spot. I would have gone for your nuts or your face,"