Matt, the tattoo artist, invited me to get comfy. I climbed onto the chair inspecting the materials on the table: needles, cotton balls, bottles of what seemed like ointment and a gun, shaped like the one used in ear piercings.
“Do you know what you want?” he asked me. I was entertained counting the number of piercings on his face. I was at five when Ezra replied on my behalf, “I’m picking.”
Six… seven.
“Let’s hear it,” Matt said.
Ezra beckoned with a head movement and the two of them stepped away. They kept their backs turned to me. I tried to eavesdrop but was unsuccessful.
The pair returned. Ezra sat on a stool next to me and Matt settled back on his chair. Then he moved the table with the instruments closer.
“Give me your hand.” Matt stretched his open palm and I placed my hands in his. “This will be three minutes. It won’t hurt much so try to stay still.”
I nodded and looked at Ezra. I flinched when a cold swab was stroked against my left ring finger.
“Hey, look at me.” Ezra took my other hand. “It’s not going to hurt.”
“You’re lying.”
“Yes, I am, but that’s what you’re supposed to say to calm people down. Look at me and it will be over before you know it.”
There was a buzzing sound. Screeching, I jerked my hand from Matt when the piercing sensation came to my skin. He held onto my wrist. I whipped my head to see what was causing the pain. There was a purplish imprint on my fingers, but I couldn’t make out the word because Ezra cupped my jaw and turned my face.
“Don’t move. You’ll ruin it,” Matt scolded.
I nodded and shut my eyes. The pain returned, I tried as hard as possible to stay still, clutching onto Ezra’s hand and curling my toes.
“Done,” Matt announced. I opened my eyes, taking in a few deep breaths. It actually didn’t hurt much. “Do you want a look before I tape it?”
“Yes.” I eagerly drew my hands from his. The tattoo was drawn on the inside of my finger. I stared at it joining my brows. I glanced at Ezra, then back at my finger. “This is the part where you explain why this is on my finger, and awe me with your logic, or else we have a big fucking problem.”
The tattoo was the word imperfect—the end of the T trailed off to a lifeline.
Ezra’s lips took the form of a sweet and innocent smile. And I waited for the explanation. It had better be good.
“I don’t know if we are meant to be either, but whoever puts a ring on that finger should know that you are imperfect. He should accept you the way you are and love you despite your flaws. If not ...” He elegantly shrugged a shoulder. “He doesn’t deserve you. If he can’t accept the inner you, he doesn’t deserve any part of you. Even if it’s not me, keep your standards high.”
“I love you,” I mouthed.
The first thing I did when Matt released me, was jump on Ezra and kissed him until Matt complained that we were wasting his time. Ezra hopped on the chair and it was my turn to give the instructions for Ezra’s tattoo.
Ezra recoiled slightly when the needle hit his skin. I kissed his forehead to make it better. His took a bit longer but when it was done, he looked at it smiling. “Five stars,” he chuckled.
“Yes, whoever puts a ring on that finger has to know that your heart is worth five stars. Even with the abundance of mistakes that you’ve made. If she doesn’t give you a five-star review, then the bitch doesn’t deserve you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ezra
“This is how it’s going down,” Nunes instructed, spreading open the blueprint of the warehouse Chichi had her base of operations in. “We’ll have units here, here, and here.” He pointed at each spot as he spoke. “If somehow you don’t manage to get out before we come in, stay away from the entry points. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Alright. So next week, on Wednesday we’ll bust the warehouse. You have to continue as if nothing is going on Ezra, these people are good readers. They will notice a mole from miles away so be careful. If there’s any change in their attitude, you let me know immediately.”
Nodding, I said, “I will.”
“Here.” He handed me a phone. “Use this to reach me. This phone can’t be traced by anyone other than our tech team. If at any moment you sense that somethin’ isn’t right—”
“I know, I’ll let you know.”
Nunes was concerned about my safety, but I could tell he was even more concerned about the success of this operation. Everything had to be handled perfectly if he wanted to get his hands on Chichi. She was meticulous and didn’t ascend to where she was by luck.
I told him everything I knew. Dates, locations, descriptions of any piece of information I was able to uncover without raising suspicion.
“What about my family?”
“It will be taken care of before we hit the warehouse. They’ll be safe and patrols will be around the girl’s parents for a while just in case.”
We were reaching the endgame. Soon this would all be over. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and left. Nunes stayed behind a while longer and then would leave through the back entrance.
Chichi summoned me to her hotel room. What shocked me was how I found her sitting in a chair with her eyes shut and feet propped up. A man was sticking a needle into her right arm. She shuddered with pain.
“Where have you been?” She asked. “I’ve been looking for you all morning.”
“You’re sick?”
Rearranging herself in the chair, she laughed dryly. “You don’t miss anything do you?” The man placed a quilt over her legs and handed her a cup of ice chips. She crunched some. “Don’t worry. I’m sick, not dying. You won’t get rid of me for at least a few more years.”
Her face was bare of all makeup and her skin was ashen. Not ghost-like, just subdued and grayish, like all the life was slowly draining out of her soul. I felt bad for her in a humane way, but other than that there was nothing more I felt for that woman.
“Trust me, I’m not worried.”
“Sleeping isn’t allowed during chemotherapy—they can’t tell if you’re having a reaction or just dozing off. That’s why you are here to keep me awake.”
Was this woman for real?
“On the table are two files.” She gestured with her head towards the opposite side of the room. “The black one is a list of our enemies and people we don’t do business with and the other is the opposite. They are our allies. Study them and if you have any questions, I’m here to answer them.”
I crossed the room and flipped through the pages. She’d offered the least information possible. There were only pictures, names and what line of business they were in. While she had her eyes shut, I took pictures and forwarded them to Nunes.
“Did you ever miss me, Ezra?”
That question was almost comical. How could I miss someone who was never there for me? Someone who never cared. She was always a ghost of a memory of the woman who walked out on us, destroying my father’s life.