Persephone Alcmedi 00 - Wicked Circle

these tattoos?
    From the driveway, he studied the house. In the morning light, the beige aluminum-sided ranch, with black shutters and a brick-red front door, seemed smaller than it had in the dark last night. It was cute and well kept; the many trees were bare, but the lawn had been raked and the leaves tended. The bushes were trimmed, the flowerbeds mulched and ready for the snow that would soon fall.
    He shut the car off and dropped the keys in his pocket.
    Toni opened the front door before he could knock. “Have a seat. I’ll get him.”
    Johnny entered a modest living room with two chairs and a small love seat, as she’d said. All were dark brown and worn. He sat on one of the chairs and noticed that the oval coffee table showed signs of wear and tear on its edges. He understood why when he saw the bin of Hot Wheels under the coffee table.
    He swallowed, hard.
    “Evan! Come here,” Toni called.
    “I’m playing!”
    “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
    “Who?”
    “Come here and I’ll introduce you.”
    Silence.
    More silence.
    Toni rolled her eyes and started forward, but Johnny touched her arm. “May I?”
    She blinked. Nodded. “Sure.”
    Johnny walked down the hall with his heart pounding. The walls and ceiling seemed to be closing in on him, though he told himself it was just a small house. The vroom-vroom sounds of a boy at play met his ears, and he eased into the doorway as if his world was in slow motion.
    The room was a sunny yellow with framed posters of sleek cars. The twin bed was primary red and shaped like a Ferrari. The bedspread was also red. Though there was beige carpeting, a small area rug, made like a city with roads, lay next to the bed. It seemed the rug city was under construction—dump trucks and backhoes were placed along the streets.
    The boy lay in the middle of the city on his stomach, feet kicking up and one sock half off his foot. He was positioned away from the door, his attention riveted to some Hot Wheels setup. The boy— Evan —was guiding cars into a motorized area that caught the cars and sent them speeding through loop-de-loops. When the cars crashed, he laughed delightedly. “All right!”
    Maybe this will work out after all.
    “So you like cars?” Johnny asked.
    At his voice, the boy turned, and his big brown eyes started at Johnny’s shoes and rose unhurriedly upward. “You’re really tall.”
    “Yup.”
    “Why are you wearing makeup?”
    Great. “I’m not.” He pointed at his face. “These are tattoos.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I used to be in a rock-and-roll band.”
    The kid hit a button that switched off the motorized part of his toy. He sat up, cross-legged. “Who are you?”
    “My name’s John. You’re Evan?”
    “Yeah.” He scratched at his brow. “Why are you here?”
    “I . . .” Johnny’s mouth opened and shut. He couldn’t just blurt out Because I’m your dad. “I heard you like cars.”
    “So?”
    Johnny bent and picked up one of the cars. “This one. Do you know what this is?”
    Evan studied the car. “Ferrari. Like my bed. Only that one’s light blue.”
    “What do you know about Ferraris?”
    “They’re cool and they go fast.”
    Johnny dropped to one knee. “This one happens to be a 599 GTB Fiorano. Do you know why they go fast?”
    Evan blinked.
    “This Ferrari has a V12 engine. That means it has twelve cylinders. . . . Do you know anything about engines?”
    “No.”
    Johnny asked, “Would you like to?”
    “No.” Evan jumped up, snatched the car from him and left the room.
    What did I do?
    Evan dashed straight to Toni in the living room.
    Johnny followed behind him.
    “Who is that guy, Gram?”
    Toni glanced past Evan to Johnny. “He’s someone you need to know.”
    “I don’t want him touching my cars.”
    “Then, just say so,” Johnny said.
    Evan spun around, and in doing so, he scanned the front picture window. His head snapped back to the driveway. He eased forward and put his nose on the glass. “Whoa. . . . Is that your car?”
    “Yup.”
    “Wow. What is it?”
    “It’s a Maserati Quattroporte.”
    “Does it have a twelve-V engine, too?”
    Johnny laughed. “No, it’s a V8. It only has eight cylinders.”
    “It still looks cool.”
    “Would you like to go for a ride?”
    Evan’s eyes lit up. “Could I?”
    “If Toni says it’s okay.”
    “Can I, Gram? Can I? Can I?”
    Toni regarded Johnny steadily. “Can I talk to you privately?”
    “Sure.”
    “Evan, go to