Inked & Dangerous

by Evelyn Glass

  I head straight towards headquarters, not caring about stoplights or the few civilians walking home from work. My palms practically sweat against the handlebars as I get closer, anticipating what kind of attack may have happened there. But as I pull through the closed fence, I’m surprised to see nothing. The men are sitting against the wall of the building with their beers and cigarettes. Others come out with their schedules in hand and paychecks in another. They talk back and forth about the big raise they got from the diamond deal. None of them even register my presence.

  I park my bike the closest I can get it to the entrance before darting inside. The first person I see, I yell, “Where the hell is Jason?”

  “Boss?” The man studies me slowly. His eyes grow large as he spots the singed fabric of my workout shorts and the black soot stains against my chest. Little drops of blood continue to trickle down my forehead from the wound.

  I don’t bother explaining. I just shout at him again, “Get me Jason! Now!”

  “Whoa. What the fuck, Liam! I knew something happened to you when I heard that blast, but what the hell…” Jason peers at me from one of the doorways, motioning me over towards him. I spy behind him at the crowd of men in the room. Good. They’re already here.

  I pull the door behind me as the men shuffle in to take their seats. They stare back and forth at one another as I take over their meeting. I pull out the piece of tattered, wet paper as I exclaim, “We’re under attack. Someone or a group firebombed the gym tonight and then threw a brick with this note attached into a window near me. It’s addressed to me.”

  The note is passed around the room as I wait impatiently, pacing the front of the office. When it gets to Winston, the secretary, he places the paper down on his knees and then walks towards me. “This is why we wanted to see you earlier, Liam.”

  “Wait.” I hold my hands up towards my chest, “You fucking knew about this? You knew about this, but you didn’t tell me?”

  Jason jumps in, defending the rest of the men, “We didn’t know specifics, Liam. We all got an email today from some anon person that warned we were going to be next, and then it linked us to a website…”

  I watch as he walks over to a laptop sitting in the corner. He powers it on and then thrusts it into my arm. A bright and cheerful site with a cartoon woman doling out ice cream is at the very top. Graduate-Level Ice Cream is scrolled in fancy, cursive writing. My heart sinks to my shoes. It’s Alana’s site.

  I scroll quickly down to the most recent blog post. It’s only been up a couple hours based on the timestamp, but it looks completely different than the rest of the posts. Instead of the delicate purple font, it’s written in red and highlighted in yellow. The title reads: “THE BAD BOY CHRONICLES EXPOSED.”

  “What the fuck is this?” I mutter to myself.

  “It’s someone hacking your girlfriend’s site and publishing all of our info.” Winston stands up and points out a few lines. There are names -- all of our names -- published with addresses and numbers. “It’s a list of us with how much money we’re bringing in. Someone hacked into our data and pushed this list out on her site.”

  “But it’s just some stupid little blog. Who the fuck cares?” I say as I reach into my pocket. “I’ll call Alana and see if she can take it down. She’s in class right now. I doubt she knows she was even hacked.”

  “You don’t fucking understand, Liam,” Jason says, “Her site isn’t ‘little.’ We had André look it over, and it has nearly 50,000 views a DAY! She’s making bank with the advertising, and her site is listed all over the web right now for what she’s writing about you. Now that people know who you are and what you do outside the ring, you’re in deep shit.”

  “What does this have to do with the gym, though?” I ask, wanting to ignore the allegations against Alana.

  “If your girlfriend didn’t post this shit, someone did, and we’re guessing it was the person who has been leaving these threatening comments on her blog for weeks now.”

  Amy. Fuck.

  I lie as I grit my teeth and say, “I didn’t know about any threatening comments.”

  “Then your girl lied to you. She’s been getting a ton of comments for weeks warning her that something was going to happen to you and the club if you two didn’t back down. That bitch put us all at risk. You need to break up with her.” As Jason finishes, there’s a murmur around the room. The men nod their heads urgently to agree.

  “No. I’m not breaking up with her over this. This wasn’t her fucking fault. She had nothing to do with this, and don’t forget, she’s a member of the club. That money you got in your paychecks is because of her.”

  Jason lowers his voice as he walks closer to me, taking the laptop out of my hands, “She did her job. Now she’s done. We won’t retaliate against her or you if you break it off and cut ties.”

  “Retaliate… against me? Don’t you fucking threaten me, Jason, or did you forget who I am?” I press my chest into his, towering over him by about a half a foot.

  “I know who you are. You’re out of control, and it’s because you got soft for some chick who spread her legs in the back of an ice cream truck. We voted on this already while you were gone. You go against us, and we will have to take away your position. End it or the club will rat you out to the mafia.”

  I growl as loudly as I can as I storm out the room, letting the door slam against the frame. Behind me, I can feel the eyes of the entire room of my most loyal men stare me down. I have no choice. I have to end it with Alana.

  Chapter 21

  “Oh, my God! Have you ever seen that many zeros in your paycheck before?” Jana gawks over my shoulder as I hold up the blue and white check to the light. I’m still not sure if this is some strange joke or if this is actually happening. Jana rips it out of my hand as she asks, “Who sent that to you? Which business was it?”

  I look back at the torn up envelope I let fall to the floor. In all my excitement of getting my first writing paycheck, I completely forgot that I probably should be keeping a good record of all this stuff. After all, writing about bad boys has become a pretty profitable business. “Uh… it’s from Leather and Lace -- that sex shop I totally didn’t want to advertise for until you convinced me. I guess I should thank you for that.”

  “Thank me? You don’t have to do that. What you do have to do is take that to the bank and then give me my share of the earners. We’ve got a contract, remember?” She laughs to herself as she spins to her desk, grabs the calculator out of the organizer, and punches in a few numbers. Jana isn’t kidding -- the amount owed to her is thanks enough for all the work she has been doing.

  And really, she deserves more than that. I’m going to have to figure out an amount to give her as a bonus or overtime. While I’ve been off with Liam and studying for midterms, she’s been standing guard of our little site like a knight in shining Internet armor. Even last night, she had headed off to meet with a professor who had more knowledge on this sort of thing than she did so that she could continue to fend off Amy’s attacks on the site.

  Jana spins around the room, check still in hand, and throws open her tiny closet doors. Her wardrobe practically falls out on top of her as she says dramatically, “My clothes do need an update… or maybe a new pair of heels… but a girl can never have too many purses…”

  I sit back on my bed and watch her with a half smile on her face as she rattles off a wish list of items she’s been waiting to buy. No doubt this is just the first check to come in from our blogging profits. The last we checked, the site was getting an insane amount of clicks and enough comments that we stopped responding to each one. It seems like, to me, that deep down, every girl wants to net and string in a bad boy.

  Even Amy’s controlling, rambling comments about taking Liam back from me just intensified the readers. I guess I should also send her a cut of the action for that. Her name was getting legendary among my fans. My most devoted ones had even the nerve to start trolling her with ridiculous comments a
bout her being a stalker and a jealous bitch. Though I should have, I didn’t dare delete those. I want Amy to know that what she was attempting to do was completely out of line.

  “Oh, Alana! Just think about this --” Jana jumps up next to me and exclaims, “You’re not even going to need Liam’s money to pay for your dad’s care. The next few checks from the website are going to handle all of that. Can you believe it? You’ll have all that cash to pay off your tuition… or whatever responsible and boring adult money thing you think you need to do!” She pulls me in tight for a bear hug, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

  “I know. I’m going to need all the money I can get, though. He’s going to need extensive physical and occupational therapy. It could be months before he re-learns to walk and dress himself.” I sigh sadly to myself as I take the check from Jana’s hands and place it over on the nightstand. “It’s going to all go to getting him the help he needs… even Liam’s money.”

  “Come on now, Alana! Stop being such a downer.” I shoot Jana a knowing look. This is not the territory she wants to tread over. She smartly backtracks, “Sorry… I mean that you have been working night and day and even put your life at risk to help your dad out. Isn’t there just one thing you could get with this money that isn’t a necessity? Splurge a little! Treat yourself! One day of fun isn’t going to hurt you!”

  Jana’s right, in her own way. Even now, I can feel the tension in my shoulders and the way I am grinding my teeth back and forth. The last few months have been a complete and utter disaster. Maybe I should just let myself splurge a little? What could be the harm in that?

  I reach back over and grab the check, placing it in my back pocket. Jana grabs my arm, practically reading my mind as she asks, “So… where are we going?”

  “How about to get our hair done? I haven’t done that in a long time, and it wouldn’t be too much of a big deal if I skip my class this afternoon.” Well, it may be a big deal to my professor, but this was the one day I could make it happen. Plus, all of my last haircuts were done by Jana experimenting with a pair of craft scissors and a how-to video. Thank goodness my hair is thick enough to hide all those blotches.

  “Oh! Thank God!” Jana cries out as she runs over to her shoe pile and slips on a pair of flats. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but those split ends are looking super rough, girl.” She grabs my hand and pulls me up and out of the room. I just have enough time to pick up my phone and my purse before she shuts the door behind us and leads out to the parking lot where my dad’s truck is waiting.

  At the bank, the teller eyes us suspiciously as I explain how I want the money to be split between accounts. I’m sure he can see the zeros in my history prior to these past few weeks, and I can only imagine why he thinks a sex shop has written us the check of a lifetime, but I couldn’t care. I can’t seem to wipe the smile off of my face as Jana and I bounce out of there arm in arm with loaded wallets and an appointment to Tre Chic, the hottest boutique in Vegas.

  It was a miracle they could get us in. Jana promised them some money if they could bounce a client or two, but I didn’t ask questions. She knew that if I were in on that, I would back out so quickly that she wouldn’t be able to see me in the dust trail I left behind. Instead, she handed the cashier a thick envelope as the woman led me away to the sink station for a quick soap and wash.

  Jana takes a seat next to me while the woman lathers my hair. She pulls out a Celebs Daily magazine and thumbs through the pages, commenting on outfits and hairstyles. “Oh wow. Alana! Your guy made the magazine!...” She pauses before standing up and shouting, “AND SO DID YOU! OMG!”

  Jana and the hairdresser, Elaine, stare at the magazine, nodding their heads before holding it up to my face. I push it away from my nose as I scan the page for a glimpse of me. And they’re right. Just in the corner of the image, wearing those oversized aviator sunglasses and that ridiculous sweatpants get-up, I am walking arm and arm with Liam. Underneath the image is the headline: Hot Mr. Murphy and His Hospital Date.

  “Liam is getting big, Alana. I mean, I know nothing about boxing, but the new guy I’m seeing, Devon, knows all about him. He thinks he could be heavyweight king, or whatever it is they call that title. Could you imagine dating a celebrity? Jesus, you’re so lucky.”

  Elaine goes back to washing my hair out, clearly paying attention, as I respond, “So lucky? You know it’s not that simple with him Jana. Things between us are… complicated.” It’s the only word I can come up with to describe me saying that I loved him and him saying nothing back -- even four days later.

  “You know he cares about you. He told you so. And he pulled that stunt with the hospital. He obviously has feelings for you or he wouldn’t be acting this way. Just go with it. You’re Mr. Murphy’s girl now.” I can hear Jana turn the page and sit back in the leather seat.

  “Wait!” The hairdresser suddenly stops rinsing and places down the hose with a click. “You’re not… Graduate-Level Ice Cream, are you?”

  I sit straight up, not believing my ears. I’ve been anon since I started this blog. Not even my closest friends have guessed I was the one writing all those viral articles. Was it that obvious that I was writing about this new celebrity?

  “It is you!” She jumps, placing a hand to her mouth. “I’m such a huge fan of your blog and that Bad Boy series you’re doing.”

  “Wait… but… how?” Jana jumps in, grabbing my shoulders. My wet hair dangles and drips over the plastic robe.

  “The post today… the information on the club and everything? I mean, to be honest, I really didn’t understand it, but when I heard you say that guy’s name, I put two and two together…”

  I turn back to Jana, my mouth dropping. “Amy” is the only word I could get out. Jana pulls out her phone from her purse and begins to type.

  “Yeah! Amy!” Elaine shouts. “She’s the one who posted it. I thought that was all fake.” She takes a look at us as her voice lowers and her head drops in a panic. “Didn’t you write that yourself?”

  Jana lets out a small scream of frustration and pushes the phone into my hands. I don’t even want to look at the damage, but there it is in the red all-caps writing. It exposes everything and anything about Liam’s club and their business. I slump back down to the chair as Jana shouts at poor, flabbergasted Elaine, “Do you have a laptop or a computer… something I can use?”

  I don’t know what to do. I potentially ruined Liam’s life. Hell, he could be arrested right now or banned from boxing. He could be on the run or…

  I stare up at the television at a breaking news report flashing in red and blue. The announcer goes live to a building on the outskirts of downtown -- a gym. The windows have been smashed out, and black and gray ash and smoke marks color the ground. The camera pans inside to the wall of cardio machines practically melted to their metal and a boxing ring tattered and blown apart.

  My feet seem to recognize the insignia of the gym before my brain can catch up. I’m practically out the door as I shout to Jana, “It’s Liam! It’s his gym!”

  “Go! Find him! See if he’s okay! I’ll take care of the website.” She sits back down at the desk with Elaine as I rip off the robe around my neck and toss it to the ground. I reach the truck in seconds flat as I dial Liam’s number over and over again. There’s no answer, but I know where he would be if he were safe -- the club’s headquarters.

  I manage to make it there by memory. Even in the day, it doesn’t manage to look less like a horror factory for drunks and scoundrels. Still, I run past them as I scream out, “Where’s Liam? Show me where Liam is!” I’m only a foot into the door when I see him in his tattered shirt and shorts. He walks to me as I run, eventually grabbing him around his shoulders and neck. “Liam! I saw… I saw on the news… I thought you were… I knew you wouldn’t but I thou--”

  He looks up at the men gathered around to watch. From the office he came out of, a few men look over at me with disgusted looks. Something wasn’t right. I could tell
by the way Liam held me at a distance that I wasn’t walking into a great reuniting.

  “Alana... “ he says quietly as he spins me around towards the door. “Can we talk?”

  The next few minutes fly by, as the world seems to stand still between us. I try to focus in on Liam’s words, “It’s the website… Amy won’t stop… I want to be with you, but… The guys need me…” But I can’t seem to get a handle on them. Just hours ago, it felt like my life had finally fallen into the right pace and place. Now I was struggling just to understand why the man I actually had fallen in love with, despite everything we have been through, could just walk away like this. So calm, so cool. He can’t even look at me.

  I fall back into the passenger seat of the ice cream truck as Liam continues to rest his arm on one of the stacks of supplies I had unloaded earlier yesterday. In my mind, I watch as he unpacks the boxes for me, smiling and singing to himself. He looked so right in my life. But I should have known better then. No man like Liam could ever be apart of something like me. I was too pure, too good. And while I used to think of that as a good thing, it feels more like a drawback. I would never be the type of woman Amy is, and that was clearly what Liam wanted.