TONY: Book 1 of The De Luca Brothers Series [COMPLETED]

38:

"I want to take you somewhere," I tell Toro, slipping on a shirt over my bedhead.

He looks at me from the bed, his hands behind his head and his chest falling slowly, "Where?"

"The homeless shelter that I volunteer at on weekends. Well, not recently because a lot of things have happened. I think it'll be fun, although try not to scare people? Like Big Al?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. People know me, recognise me as that man who ruined their life. That man who gives them drugs. That man who has murdered others," he pauses. "I can't go Zachary."

I pout and stare at him through my mirror reflection, "You'll be with me though! People know me as that guy who gives them food. You can... I don't know... help out?"

"You mean free labour?" He scoffs. "Yeah, no."

"Don't be like that, you're so negative. I dislike this energy your radiating. Very bad for my optimism," I tut.

"How about we go get tattoos today?" Tony wonders. "Your gang tattoo, then we can throw a small party afterwards with the full ceremony. Of course that part can be another day."

"A-Uh-tattoo?" My eyes widen. "Will it hurt?"

"Depends where you get it, I've got mine on my shoulder."

I grimace, "What's the tattoo of?"

"A rose with three thorns: we are the Thorns after all," Tony smirks. "Did you not know that?"

"No Tony, I didn't know that. God forbid I know actual gang names," I sass, throwing on a hoodie and jeans.

"So can we get a tattoo?"

I purse my lips, "As long as you don't laugh at me for crying."

"Don't worry, I'll hold your hand," Tony coos, a sparkle in his eye.

"I hate you."

"No you don't, you care for me really."

Ten minutes later, we enter a shop on the bad side of the city and walk to the front desk. The walls are pasted a forest green paper with some parts yellowed and others peeling. The prominent odour of cigarettes hangs thickly in the air, making a car engine seem more fresh; the floors are dusty and a glass bottle is shattered in the corner. From the back of the shop, a short, plump man appears wearing a band tee and tight jeans, his long hair is pulled back into a bun and a cigar hangs loosely between his lips. His unfriendly eyes light up once seeing Tony, "Toro! Friend, what can I do for you today?"

"A tattoo for my boyfriend," he states bluntly and I'm surprised of the coolness of his tone. Interesting.

"Oh, he joining the gang?"

Toro nods, walking towards the back of the shop along with the tattooist; I follow.

"He doesn't seem like gang material. Too scrawny, no muscle. Basically a complete wuss. If that's what you dig, that's what you dig," the tattooist rambles, setting up the tattoo gun and disinfecting the black dentist chair. "Y'know, I met a gay guy once who was supposed to be a dealer- totally inexperienced- he was supposed to sell some of that Mary Jane to some lowlifes. What happened? They knifed him and now he's no more. Stole all of the supply."

"I need to make a call," mutters Toro to me before walking out of the room, leaving me with tattoo guy.

"So you two pretty serious, huh?"

I look at him longly, "Yeah. What's your name?"

"Dave, but people call me TD for tattoo Dave, 'cause there's also barista Dave. He's a complete tool, but he makes a mean cocktail."

"Oh—"

"Where you want this tattoo?"

"Probably on my arm..."

"Eh, everyone goes for the arm. Do something bold!"

"On my... rib?"

"You'll be weeping in agony," he states.

"How about on my hip then?"

"That I can do."

"Thank you—"

"Back to BD! I mean, he has beef on like everyone," he continues, picking up a stencil and applying it to my skin. "That's the joys of working behind a bar, you get drunks talk to you: a drunk's words are their sober thoughts. Y'know what I'm saying?"

"Sure."

"So what's your name then? What's your interests in the gang? How'd you know Toro?" He asks, straddling the stool and picking up the tattoo gun; it whirs.

"I'm called—"

"Il Topo," Toro says, swiftly reentering and taking a seat next to me, opposite TD.

"Oh, he's got one of those Italian animal names? Must be important. What does it mean?"

"Mouse."

TD guffaws and I flush bright red. Am I supposed to refer to myself as Topo now? TD calms down and breathes heavily, his gravelly voice muttering something about how weak I am. Gee, thanks. With his cigar still between his lips, he peels off the stencil and raises the gun; my mouth suddenly dries.

Doubts begin to crawl into my mind like spiders as the ides of a tattoo becomes strictly unpleasant. Toro grips my hand and looks me in the eye, a small smile on his lips, "This will hurt."

"Really Sherl- ow!" I exclaim as the needle begins to penetrate my skin. I wince and grimace, my head defeatedly falling onto the head as my grip on Tony's hand increases. I grumble profanities under my breath, all the while staring at my boyfriend with fake hatred, despising the knowing grin or the way his eyes twinkle in amusement.

"You two are such a nice couple, y'know? Like, I can see you lasting, see your future and whatnot. 'Cause there's a lot of young love like you guys who's either fake or just don't last, but I know truth when I see it."

"Thanks," I mumble.

Tony squeezes my hand once.

"Is it cool if I tell other gang members? They've heard rumours of a relationship, nobodies confirmed it though. So when's your ceremony?"

"I'm not sure yet," I respond lightly.

"Good, Good. I hope it's soon though, we haven't had a party in a couple of months and I'm sure people are dying for another one. You see, our gang throws tremendous parties, mainly because the women don't have much to do," he snorts. "Too busy cleaning."

"That's a bit sexist," I mumble.

"It's a bit true. Other than Vipera and a couple of other hardheaded ladies, there's no strong female rolls in our gang. That's why it's so weird seeing you," TD blurts.

My brows furrow and an animalistic growl resounds from Toro's chest. I feel TD's hand freeze just above my skin before continuing.

"Watch it," Toro threatens, his voice dark and angry, voice laced with pure malice.

Well shit, "Are you almost done yet?"

"N-nearly," he clears his throat. "Just two thorns left and we're good. This is why I appreciate our gang so much, it's design is basic and has no colour making my job much easier."

Eventually, he finishes the tattoo and I'm left ogling at the beautiful design. My skin is left in a red, pinky hue and slightly tender. Biting my lip, I just stare at it.

"It looks good," Toro whispers in my ear.

"It does," I respond.