Poison Ink (6 page)

Sammi’s mom put the car in reverse. “Then we should get the heck out of here.”

Katsuko beamed. But if her mother had known what had Katsuko so excited, she wouldn’t have been so sympathetic. Sammi looked at her mother and saw how pleased she was to have scored points with her daughter’s friend, and a fresh wave of guilt crashed over her.

Throughout the ride to Letty’s house, Katsuko and Mrs. Holland made small talk about school and swimming and college and what it felt like to be a junior. Sammi barely said a word, gazing out the window, watching as they went back over the bridge and drove through the city, passing through neighborhoods in descending order of income. When she started seeing graffiti on the sides of brick buildings, and rusted chain-link fence, she knew that they were almost there. Over the years, Covington had become a true melting pot, and it had a sizable Latino population. There were Latinos in every part of the city, but Vespucci Square had been the beating, immigrant heart of Covington for a century and a half. Italians and Germans had come first, and then the Irish. Later, there had come Cubans, Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, and now a wave of Brazilians. The condition of many of the duplexes and row houses spoke of poverty, not of culture.

Which hadn’t stopped Sammi’s father from hesitating when she asked if she could sleep over Letty’s, or her mother from telling her to be careful, not to wander off. Sammi could not even blame them. The neighborhood could be rough, especially for people who didn’t live there.

All those thoughts filled her head as her mother pulled past the dingy Citgo station beside the two-family Letty and her parents shared with Teresa, her older sister, and Teresa’s two babies. The walls were so thin—Letty had warned them—that she could hear the babies crying in the night. The house itself was well kept, with a fresh coat of paint and a small, immaculate yard.

But even though she knew better, Sammi couldn’t help holding her breath as she got out of the car. She would not let her mother see her nervousness. Could not let anyone see it. No matter how much she knew about the origins of Vespucci Square, the reality of the local paper was inescapable. When trouble went down in Covington, whether it was drugs or prostitution or murder, it nearly always happened within half a mile of this spot.

As Katsuko said goodbye and expressed her thanks, climbing out of the car, Sammi had to take a steadying breath. What they were planning for tonight was bad enough—trouble enough—but walking the streets of Vespucci Square after dark added to the danger in a way that sent a shiver of fear through her.
This whole thing is stupid. What the hell is wrong with me?
she thought.

By then, her mother had said goodbye and begun to pull away.

Standing on the cracked and pitted sidewalk in front of Letty’s duplex, she and Katsuko looked at one another.

“Are you nervous?”

A shudder of relief went through Sammi, and she uttered a nervous laugh. “Oh my God, completely. Aren’t you?”

Katsuko nodded. “Oh yeah. But it feels kind of good, you know?”

Sammi smiled as though she
did
know, but her smile was a lie.

She picked up her overnight bag and followed Katsuko up the concrete steps to 46A, Letty’s half of the duplex. Sammi rang the doorbell, and they heard voices and footsteps inside, then the sound of two locks being drawn back. The door swung open and Letty opened her arms to them, giddy with excitement. She wore artfully torn jeans, low around her hipbones, and a tank with spaghetti straps.

Caryn and T.Q. were behind her in the hallway. Letty ushered Sammi and Katsuko in, and the girls all started talking at once. Caryn had dressed fairly sexy, in a ribbed top and a short skirt. Katsuko and T.Q. were conservative in comparison, but Sammi wore jeans and a loose green cotton shirt. This was supposed to be girls’ night. Whom were they trying to impress?

“Letty?”

They all looked around to see Mrs. Alecia silhouetted in the entrance to the kitchen at the end of the hall.

“Hello, girls,” Letty’s mother said.

They all greeted her, but Mrs. Alecia stayed near the kitchen, and they did not move from their spot by the door. Sammi shifted in the moment of awkward silence as the woman appraised them, obviously wondering if one of them might be her daughter’s girlfriend, and if so, which one?

“Are you sure you don’t want to have dinner here? I’m cooking for your father and Teresa anyway.”

Letty smiled. “No thank you, Mami. We’re just going to have pizza, if that’s okay. It’s girls’ night.”

Mrs. Alecia smiled wanly. “All right. Have fun, Letitia.”

Letty rolled her eyes at her mother’s use of the name. “We will. We’re just going up to my room for a minute. Gotta show the girls something before we take off.”

Mrs. Alecia vanished into the kitchen. When Letty turned to face them, Sammi saw the sadness in her eyes, but Letty covered it with another one of those giddy smiles.

“Let’s dump your bags upstairs,” she said to Katsuko and Sammi. Then she looked at Caryn. “Wait’ll you see the designs our favorite artist has come up with.”

They all exchanged conspiratorial looks and followed Letty upstairs, as if the whole thing might be some wonderful game. Sammi went last, trailing behind the others, wishing she had never agreed to play, knowing how hurt they would be if she tried to back out now.

Knowing that by morning, whatever she decided, she would have betrayed the trust of someone she loved.

4

A
fter dark they made their way down to Valencia Avenue, a street that Sammi had ridden past with her parents many times over the years but could not recall ever having gone down. There were bakeries and dollar stores and empty storefronts with the glass postered over or whitewashed. One relic had once been a video store, but such places were nearly extinct now.

Across the street, Sammi spotted the shop with blacked-out windows, a blue neon Open sign the only indication that it was inhabited. That particular shade of deep blue ought to have seemed cold and wintry—especially on a night that had turned so unseasonably cool—but to Sammi it looked like blue fire. Just looking at it made her flush with a strange heat that might have been excitement or embarrassment, or maybe a little of both.

Her heartbeat sped up and she ran her tongue across her lips. Frightened as she was, the sensation of doing something so taboo, so forbidden, exhilarated her. Being bad had its allure.

“Are we really going to do this?” T.Q. asked.

Sammi blinked in surprise and looked over, relieved that someone else had put voice to the question that had been on the tip of her tongue all night. When they had sat in Letty’s room looking at Caryn’s intricate and elegant designs, she had tried to make herself say those words a dozen times. Knowing the way the other girls would look at her, knowing that it would hurt them, she had not been able to summon the courage.

T.Q. had asked the question. Her eyes were wide, staring across the street at the black windows, at the flickering blue neon letters. Open.

“Maybe—” Sammi began.

“Damn right we’re doing it,” Letty said.

Katsuko laughed as she unconsciously rubbed at her hipbone, the place she intended to get her tattoo. “We didn’t come down here to just forget about it now, T.Q.”

A nervous, almost giddy smile blossomed on T.Q.’s face. She nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”

Sammi tried to open her mouth, tried to reverse time just a few seconds, long enough for her to agree with T.Q. and maybe make the others hesitate. But the moment had passed. She had missed the opportunity. Sammi wanted to do this for her friends, but her parents had enough problems without dealing with what they’d perceive as their daughter’s rebellion. She had been struggling with the decision all day, but in her heart she knew that she wouldn’t know for sure what she would do until the moment arrived.

Silently she said a little prayer that this Dante guy would turn them away, solving her dilemma.

T.Q. stepped off the curb and crossed the street toward the tattoo shop, and the others followed. Halfway across, Letty realized Sammi still stood on the sidewalk and glanced back at her, brows knitted, wondering what she was up to.

Taking a deep breath, Sammi hurried to catch up to them.

“You all right?” Letty asked, her voice soft with concern.

“I hate needles. And pain,” Sammi said. These were not lies, nor were they the whole truth.

“It’ll be fine,” Letty said.

They gathered together in front of the black windows. Sammi glanced around at her friends as they all hesitated, and their faces were bathed in that peculiar blue neon glow. They looked like ghosts.

“Place gives me the creeps,” she said, unable to stop herself. “What’s it even called? It doesn’t have a name? He could be doing anything in there.”

T.Q. stared at the front door. “You heard what Letty said. He doesn’t ask any questions. You break the rules, that’s not the kind of thing you advertise.”

Several seconds went by without any of them moving. Even Letty seemed reluctant now that the moment had arrived. Then Katsuko reached out to open the door. She tugged on the handle.

“It’s locked,” Sammi said. “Must be closed.”

Letty frowned. “No way. The Open sign is always on, yeah. But I heard the guy’s almost always here.”

She rapped on the blacked-out-glass and metal door. “It’s Saturday night. He’s not gonna close on a Saturday night.”

Seconds later they heard someone cough inside. The lock clicked and the door opened a few inches, pushed from within. The eyes that peered out from within were icy blue, bright and ethereal, and Sammi felt their gaze fix on her.

When the door swung wider and they got a better look at the man holding it open, butterflies fluttered in her stomach. He had shoulder-length black hair, dark stubble on his chin, and the deep olive skin of the Mediterranean. He might have been Greek or Spanish or Italian or even Egyptian; Sammi could not tell. Wherever he came by his looks, one thing was certain—he was a beautiful man.

“Well,” he said with just a trace of exotic, unfamiliar accent, “what has fate brought to my doorstep this evening?”

Sammi felt herself blush. Those icy blue eyes were like nothing she’d ever seen. At the same time, she realized that though it felt as if he were looking directly at her, he had that effect on all of them. Even Letty, who didn’t like guys, seemed captivated by him. And who talked that way, especially in Covington?

“Hi,” Letty said, nervous. “Are you Dante?”

With a smile of delight, he regarded them all again. “I am. Which means you aren’t lost.”

Katsuko spoke up. “Are you open? For business?”

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “For customers who aren’t going to get me into trouble.”

“We aren’t,” Letty said quickly. “My cousin told me you could help us. Ana Mattei? You know her?”

Dante considered the question a moment. “I know a lot of girls.”

I’ll bet you do,
Sammi thought, and the warmth of her blush deepened.

“We won’t get you into trouble,” Caryn said, with a desperation in her voice that Sammi did not like at all. “I swear.”

The tattoo artist hesitated, but something about the way those wintry blue eyes sparkled made Sammi think this was just mischief. He had already made up his mind.

“Why don’t you come in and tell me what you want?” Dante said.

Sammi saw the relief in her friends’ faces, but her stomach was still filled with butterflies. The threshold of the store might not actually have been the point of no return, but it certainly felt like it. She knew she should hold back, just bail on the whole thing right now. But she couldn’t stand the thought of hurting the girls like that.

Letty led the way into the nameless shop, and the others followed. Sammi was the last to enter. No bells tinkled above the door, and when it closed behind her, the blacked-out windows made her feel as if they were in some bunker, far underground. Inside Dante’s shop only a few lights burned. He had an artist’s drafting table set up in one corner, and most of the light came from the bright lamp that shone down on the designs he had been working on.

Dante picked up a bottle of lemon-flavored water that sat open on a filing cabinet and took a sip, then turned toward them, one eyebrow raised.

“All right. We’re behind closed doors, just the six of us. Talk to me.”

He wore a black shirt with a V-neck. The sleeves were rolled up halfway to his elbows, and for the first time, Sammi got a good look at some of the art on his skin. Entranced, she could not help staring. What little she could see of the tattoos on his chest showed her the head of a fierce lion with golden eyes and long red scars upon its face, and the tattoo on his forearms revealed twin goddesses, one grim and cruel and one lovely and pure.

Letty had started to talk to Dante, introducing all the girls by name, but Sammi had missed much of what she said while staring at his tattoos. She wondered about him, about those blue eyes on such a man. The tattooist seemed such an exotic creature to her.

“We don’t want to pick something out of a book,” Katsuko said, shaking her hair back and sliding her hands into her pockets.