Trouble Read Online Free Page A

nothing but a strap across her breasts and a small pair of shorts. The strap is to keep her covered during the process; the shorts are just for show.
    “Delilah,” I greet her by name, watching her curvy body moving across the room.
    “Caleb,” she says my name like she says it in the bedroom, her red lips curving up into a smile.
    “What’ll it be today?” I ask her, looking at the lettering tattooed across her back. Delilah has a strange system going. Whenever something profound happens in her life, she has it written across her body.
    “The year and then the word ‘clean’.” I blink a few times and look at her to make sure I heard her right. She smiles at me, and I lift up a corner of my mouth to grin back at her.
    “Congrats,” I tell her. I get to work on the tattoo as she turns around. There are numerous dates lining her back and not one of them says clean. She’s been an alcoholic for years, probably started when I was around fifteen. Delilah’s about six years older than me, twenty seven.
    “Thanks,” she says as I start. It takes me less than twenty minutes to tattoo the numbers and words on her. She likes it simple, like someone is writing in a diary. I show her my work in a mirror, and she nods in appreciation. She smacks a loud kiss on my cheek, but I push her away, not tonight. I’ve got company back at the apartment, and I don’t need a cat fight. Something tells me there would be one.
    “Not tonight,” I tell her, smiling down at her. She pats me on the arm and heads up front to pay Carl. I clean up shop and pocket the tip she gave me. It’s not standard, but Delilah always tips, one way or another.
    “Heading home already?” Carl asks, counting the cash from Delilah as she heads out the door. He looks after her and then at me. He knows that I’ve taken her home on the back of my bike a few times. We’re both adults.
    “I am, but not with her. Listen, I’m in a bit of a pickle, Carl.” He stops counting, drops the cash, and motions for me to sit in one of the plastic waiting chairs. I sit down and let my legs splay out as I relax. I rub a hand over my head, a nervous habit.
    “Spill, Caleb. You know I don’t like trouble, son.” I bite my cheek as I think about how to explain, and then I just spill it.
    “Yesterday was rough.” I begin, letting out a breath. “I went looking for a fight afterwards and ended up running with a chick on the back of my bike. Someone else’s chick,” I finish, closing my eyes. It sounds extremely bad when I say it out loud.
    “Shit, Caleb, whose?” Carl comes around the counter and sits down in the plastic chair next to me. I don’t bother opening my eyes to look at him.
    “I don’t know , some guy named Big Man in Rochester. She looks clean, but I can’t be sure. And I’m pretty sure some people are going to come looking for me.” I don’t know if they’re going to come out this far looking for their property, but it’s a possibility.
    “No more members for you to tattoo, Caleb. Can’t risk it.” I nod, glad that he understands. He puts an arm on my shoulder like he did before and lets out a long breath. “She got a home?” He asks, and I shake my head. As far as I know from what she’s said, she doesn’t.
    “No, no home. She’s pretty screwed up though, offered sex in exchange to be able to stay for a few days.” Carl grunts next to me, and I open my eyes to see his expression, it’s hard and calculating.
    “ Course she did, it’s how run down women with low self-esteems get by, son. You didn’t accept.” He says it like a statement and I don’t bother confirming. Carl knows me; I’m not that kind of guy. I fish my keys out of my pocket and stand as Carl stands. He gives me a quick, hard hug and then I walk out the door without looking back.
    I gun the bike to life and stop at a fast food place to pick up some burgers and fries. I secure the bag on the back of my bike, underneath the helmet, and take it easy back to