Page 100 of Massacre Monday

She shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ll be saggy then, too.”

“Then our loose skin can smack and make nasty sounds.”

She lets out a full-belly laugh and,fuck, it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. Her joy fills me up with the same, and I lay her back on the bed and tickle her ribs until she’s begging me to stop.

“I’ve got an appointment today. And I don’t want you alone,” I tell her after I clean up the mess.

“An appointment?”

“Yeah. I’m getting a new tattoo.”

Crawling her fingers over my arm, she teases me. “Oh. What will it be?”

I tap the end of her nose with my finger and tug on my leather jacket. “You’ll see.”

As she pulls on her jeans, she grabs her phone. “Fine. I’ll hang with Oz today. I haven’t caught up with him in a while.”

“That’s a good idea.”

When I grab my key and turn to leave, she grimaces. “What?”

“He says he’s busy. I guess I’ll have to go with Valencia for coffee. Text me when you’re done?”

“Of course, pink cheeks. I love you.”

The new inkdoesn’t take long and looks perfect. Exactly how I described. Fortunately, Wrench was available, so I didn’t have to use fucking Nico Griffin. Once she bandages me up, she gives me aftercare instructions, but her demeanor is robotic and dismissive.

“Thanks, Wrench. Something wrong?”

As she cleans up her station, I toss my jacket on and pause at the door. She says, “I think you may be more comfortable going down the road to Inkredible next time.”

“My money no good here now?”

Her eyes dart to the station across the parlor, where Nico rips off black nylon gloves and tosses them in a can while staring at me intensely. A tall, shadowy figure stands behind the white frosted door next to him.

“It’s fine, but I think you may be more comfort?—”

Maintaining my gaze on Nico, I mutter, “I get it.”

As assurance, I slyly touch the barrel of my Smith & Wesson sitting in its holster buried in the lining of my coat. There’s no way I’d come here without a way to defend myself. Just hoping I don’t have to use it. But the way he’s looking at me says I might.

“Good luck to you, Ryan.”

When I head out the door, my head is on a swivel. Wren is right. I would be much more comfortable going somewhere withoutDeltainvolvement. Especially the likes of the Griffin boys. My only hope, though, is that Adal Freidenberg would stick up for me. We haven’t gottenclose, but enough that I would think he’d be okay with me now that I’m appointed to his sister. Surely, Max told him.

Full throttle, I rip through the side streets on my bike. But the feeling that someone is following me won’t leave. Doesn’t matter. There’s no way they could catch me.

At the north end of campus, I pause at a deserted red light, hoping it will change quickly. MyThetatattoo burns on my chest like a brand, declaring to everyone that I’m on the wrong side of the tracks.

When the green light flashes, I move forward, deciding to cut through campus as much as I can. As I pass an old cafe, a white SUV pulls out of the driveway, and I swerve to get away from it, but it doesn’t stop.

They floor the gas, nailing me in the side of the leg. I’m pitched into the air and my bike shatters beneath me.

The ground surges closer and closer, the pavement looking like it’s going to create a deadly impact. And when I hit, everything hurts.

Before blackness surrounds me, I find myself laughing at the irony.

There was a time not so long ago when I would have begged for this kind of ending. To die like this. Here on the road.