by Hart, Eve R.
I guess I hadn’t really thought of it beyond the fact that someone had stolen from us.
Sometimes I could be a little too focused.
I was working on it.
Now that the thoughts were there, I was even more interested in dropping bodies.
The problem was that it didn’t sound like we had a place to even start looking.
Who the fuck would have been dumb enough to do something like that? Who would dare to fucking steal from us?
“I’m gonna send some of the prospects out. See if they can hear anything on the streets. Maybe them being new and all people won’t associate them with the club.”
Iron made a good point but I didn’t trust no damn prospect.
“I’ve also asked Sketch to sniff around,” he said before I could pipe up with my uncertainty about the prospects. “Know it might not be easy on him so let’s all keep an eye out.”
Iron’s gaze went from Brand and then to me.
We were around Sketch the most so it made sense.
I wasn’t looking forward to this. Last time Sketch had to deal with his past, he became a moody motherfucker.
And, yeah, I was smart enough to catch onto him. What he went around portraying wasn’t all him. It was his mask, his armor. Deep inside was a boy that had to grow up too fuckin’ fast. A boy that had to do things in order to survive that he’d never fully deal with or get over. I didn’t know for sure, but I’d seen enough hints being around him like I had that I was sure it was there. Shit that fucked him up so bad that he even had trouble being around women now. Not that it showed unless you noticed things like I did. Or got as close as I did in some instances.
But that wasn’t my shit to tell.
I still looked after the guy like any other member because he was the same to me. A brother.
“Got it,” I grunted.
“Lake and Cable are working together to make the yard even more secure,” Iron went on, his attention now on the men he was speaking about. “I don’t think it will happen again but I want to make damn sure it doesn’t. Ky, watch the prospects closely. If this is a direct hit on us to shake us up, we’re not going to let it happen. Show them that we don’t back down and that if they want this life, this is how it’s gotta be done.”
Ky nodded but said nothing.
“Knight, where the hell are we with the incoming?”
“Since we’re not taking on that club down in Georgia now, we should be good with the loss. Everything will even out,” Knight said. “Things are running a little late but we should be able to get caught up in the next couple of weeks.”
“Yeah,” Iron cut it. “And I’ve smoothed over what I can. Luckily we work with people that are understanding.”
I was sure it was less about luck and more about the fact that Iron and Axe vetted the shit out of the other clubs we brought into the game. And the moment something felt off, we cut them out.
Like those Georgia fucks, for example.
Might not have been such a bad thing those crates got taken because come to find out, they had associations with some skinhead fucks. No, I didn’t play that game and thank fuck this club didn’t either.
“Things will level back out soon enough,” Iron said like he was trying to give us a pep talk or some shit. I held my eye roll inside. “Anyone got anything else to add?”
He waited a beat and when no one spoke up, we moved on to the next few runs coming up.
I was sitting these ones out but not by choice.
Iron didn’t make me go on as many as some of the other brothers. At times it irritated me because I hated feeling like I wasn’t doing my part. But he did make a good point when he told me I had a shop to help run. So I was needed in a different way. I guess I didn’t really see it as a job for the club so much as something I liked doing. Not that club stuff wasn’t something I minded doing. It was just different in my head.
The meeting wrapped up and I was one of the last to leave the room. Mason and Iron stayed behind probably to go over shit again. They didn’t need me so I didn’t offer my help. There were still things I was left out of. I was fine with it because I knew they’d tell us when the time was right. For now, we had enough to deal with and taking whatever they needed off their hands was the best thing I could do to help out.
I went upstairs to grab Biscuit and then headed down to the kitchen.
My thoughts went to Harley.
She was damn hard to stop thinking about.
I kicked myself every fucking time it did.
It didn’t help that her shop was now open and I’d get glimpses her in the window looking all fine and shit.
Her body drew me in right away but there was something else about her that just stuck with me. And it kept sticking. I couldn’t fuckin’ shake her, no matter how hard I tried.
It was so bad that even Charming had picked up on it. To the point where he tried to tease me about it damn near every time he saw me. It made hanging out with him pretty hard because I didn’t want to talk about it.
“What’s for dinner?” I asked Abigail as I walked to where she was standing at the stove. I peeked over her head trying to figure it out before she answered.
“Beef stew,” she replied. “I wasn’t really in the mood to go all out tonight.”
“Smells good,” I told her. And it did. I had no doubt that it would taste amazing too.
“It’s ready. Get a bowl.”
“You gonna eat with me?” I asked pulling out two bowls like I wasn’t going to give her a chance to turn me down.
“Like I have much of a choice,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.
“Hey, where is Bryan?” Laurel said as she breezed into the kitchen.
She automatically tried to hand the little baby over to me and I took a step back.
“Nope,” I told her.
“Come on, Uncle Blade,” Laurel teased. I was sure she did this shit on purpose.
“What’s wrong with my kid?” B-ry said as he came into the room. “She’s cute as fuck. Such a little princess.”
He bent over, getting in the little girl’s face with a giant smile. The thing was asleep so I had no clue why he was wasting the energy.
It was weird seeing him like this. Even still, it didn’t change how I thought about him. He’d changed, but he hadn’t lost that edge the club needed from him. Get him in a room with someone that wronged us and he was still a protective monster.
“She has drool all over her cheek,” I pointed out flatly.
“She’s a baby, Blade,” Laurel said with a stunned blink of her lids. “Of course there’s drool everywhere. And poop. And spit-up. And—”
“I get it,” I said to Laurel as I held up my hand telling her to stop.
I let a small smile tip up the corner of my lips.
Yeah, I knew how babies were but it was so damn fun to get her riled up like that. If you ever doubted Laurel would make a good mom, well, she was proving the world wrong there.
“Just hold her, Blade.” There was something in Laurel’s eyes that was almost pleading.
I didn’t know why it mattered so much, it wasn’t like holding a baby would change me. Or this fucking situation.
I was about to tell her no again but B-ry was staring me down with a murderous kind of look that said I better not even think about upsetting his woman.
So I held my arms out, keeping the sigh to myself.
And then I held the tiny baby against my chest.
No, there wasn’t a smile on my face.
Or a hint of awwww going on inside.
“Happy now, Cami’s sister?” I smirked, knowing it would get under her skin.
She rolled her eyes at me.
Yeah, that never got old.
I liked pushing her buttons a little too much.
Some might say it was the way I showed my love. I would have said it was my way of keeping everyone at arm’s length. Either way, it worked for me.
“See, not so bad, is i
t?” she asked as she gracefully lowered herself down into one of the chairs at the table while B-ry went to fix her a bowl.
Abigail, who had laughed in the background this whole time, brought over our two bowls.
I stayed rooted in place.
I wasn’t clumsy but watch this be the moment I suddenly lose all control over my body. B-ry would kill me if I broke his kid.
“He looks so uncomfortable,” Abigail said with a giggle.
“It’s so awesome,” Laurel replied with a smug smile.
Then she pulled out her phone and snapped a damn picture of me.
I grunted, frown carved deep into my face.
“Where’s the older brat?” I asked and got a glare from the parents.
“Ingram and Chris took Chry, Sparrow, and Catherine to the park. They should be here soon,” Laurel answered.
“Give me my kid before your asshole attitude rubs off on her,” B-ry said delicately snatching Elizabeth out of my arms.
I took a seat and dug into my food as if nothing had happened.
Charming came in a few minutes later looking as if he was freshly showered.
It didn’t take long before the dining area was buzzing with noise and people.
I might not have said much but I didn’t mind sitting back and taking it all in.
As I looked around at all the women, I wondered what it would be like if Harley were here. I thought of how she’d fit it.
Which was ridiculous because I didn’t know a damn thing about her. So that only led to me thinking about what she was like.
I was fucked.
One hundred percent fucked.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Harley
The front door opened and I rushed to add a few lines on the paper before I acknowledged whoever it was. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I knew if I didn’t lay this down it would take me forever to remember where I was going with it. I was the only one over here because Didi had something new she wanted Wade to try and Darlene had run out to grab some lunch.
“This just became my favorite place,” a voice called out with a sweet ring to it. “I am loving this.”
I lifted my head from the sketch I was working on to take in the new customer that had walked in.
He was so adorable standing there full of awe and wonderment as he dragged his eyes over every inch of the shop.
And I wasn’t saying that in a patronizing way.
“Girl,” he said, fluttering his eyelashes at me. “I’m in love.”
I let out a short laugh as I got off my ass to greet him.
“Thank you. Hi,” I said with a wide smile. “I’m Harley. What can I help you with today?”
“Well, I just heard about this shop and had to check it out. I might be in the market for a new artist.” He gave an unhappy roll of his eyes. “Don’t ever date your tattooist. Just a word of advice. Shit goes south and you are, quite frankly, shit out of luck when you want something new done.”
I laughed, my head falling back letting the loud sound out.
“Well, I’m guessing you won’t have that problem here,” I said with a wink.
“Damn right, I won’t. Why do you think I drove across town to an all-girl shop?!” he said with an arched brow.
This was what I needed today.
I’d been feeling a little down and starting to wonder if this had been the right move. Business was starting to pick up but it had been slow. I knew we’d done all the wrong things when it came to the marketing part of it. We hadn’t had a grand opening or a party or anything like that. We had barely advertised. And we knew it was the worst thing to do for a new business but it was the way it had to be. So I really shouldn’t have been surprised at the lack of clients coming through the door.
We might have been relying too heavily on word of mouth. If there wasn’t anyone coming in, then word wouldn’t be getting out.
“Well,” I said with happiness in my tone. “Maybe I can help you out. Talk to me about what you’re thinking.”
We walked over to the plush chairs set up along the wall and he introduced himself as Bennie. I pulled out the tablet to show him some of the work we’d each done so he could get a feel of our styles. He told me he loved what he saw, pointing to one I’d done before I’d left Texas to move here, exclaiming that was his favorite. After declaring that this was the perfect place for him, he began to tell me about the vision he had in his head for his forearm.
As he spoke, I began to see the lines and even the colors. He was very descriptive. Which helped me out usually. Then again, sometimes if they had such a clear image in their head, it could be hard to get my work to match exactly what they were thinking. Those were the jobs that took the longest and a lot of back and forth. A lot of changing things around trying to get it right. And a lot of trying to see my drawing from a different angle. But I always loved a challenge.
“What do you think?” he asked after he was done.
“I think I can work with this,” I told him with a smile. “Let me get an outline of the area where you want it.”
He held out his arm and I traced the space he had free. I was glad there was a good area there to work with because this would have many little things going into it to make one whole picture. I snagged his number and told him it would probably take me a couple of days to sketch something up.
He was very excited, which made me even more excited.
That afternoon, we got in a couple of girls that wanted to get matching tattoos. It wasn’t something I would have recommended but they seemed hell-bent on getting it done. So I told myself that they could always try to get it covered up if something should ever happen. Besides, it wasn’t my skin. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t tried to dissuade them. I even suggested changing a little detail to set them apart. But they didn’t want to hear it.
So there I was, doing two identical tattoos.
A butterfly perched on a rose. It meant something to them so I made sure to give it my all. Just like I did with any art I put down. It might have seemed like a bad idea to me but it held something special to them, at least for this moment, so I gave it the pride it deserved.
Also, I wasn’t about to turn away work. Not only did I need it, but I couldn’t live with sending them away and having them go somewhere that did a half-assed job. Nope. I could not carry on with that on my conscience. Not to mention they’d probably charge these girls twice as much just for having to do something they didn’t want to. Hey, it was one of the perks of being in this business. I wouldn’t say I’d do that, but it was certainly done by a lot of people.
After that, and trying to make conversation with them even though they didn’t seem like they wanted to talk to me, I took a break.
And by that, I mean I went next door, demanded Didi bring me something good, and ate it with a cup of coffee.
Of course the seat I chose to plant my ass in was in the front window. With a nice view of the street. And the shop across the way. Which was where my gaze automatically landed.
I didn’t want to think about him, but yet, here I was.
Again.
I wouldn’t doubt he was still pissed. I imagined his entire shop was. I was doing my best to shake that off. There was enough business for both of us.
It wasn’t like I was trying to steal theirs.
Shops weren’t all the same. Like Bennie had shown earlier, sometimes you just had to find the right one that worked for you. All artists were different and all shops had their own thing to offer. Ours, well, we had the chick-thing going on, clearly. Which made some women feel more comfortable. Or Bennie, as the case may be.
We all had something to offer so it wasn’t like we had to go to war over it.
Right?
Or was I simply trying to find a way to justify it?
With the late evening sun bouncing off of their windows I couldn’t see anything. Strange as it was, I felt something. Like I was being watched. Normally, something like this would freak me out and sen
d me running out of sight. But I just knew it was him, the man I couldn’t stop thinking about no matter how hard I tried. The one that was big and scary, and so hard to read.
That was when I began to let those thoughts swirl in my head. I wanted to know if he thought of me too. Or what he thought of me. Probably thought I was some nut-job and needed to stay far away.
Whatever.
It wasn’t like I was looking for a man in my life.
I was fine on my own.
My phone rang and I lifted it to see that Estelle was calling me.
She’d headed out two days ago but not before telling me that we had this and she’d be back at some point. Also, that I could call her if I needed to.
“Hello,” I said in a cheerful voice as I answered. “Which shop are you at now?”
“Memphis,” she told me and I could hear the smile in her voice.
One of her favorites.
I knew this.
Her first in Texas would always be her baby, but the shop she’d opened in Memphis just sung to her soul. She traveled there to “check-up” on it often. And booked a lot of appointments so she had an excuse to be there.
“You should just move there,” I told her playfully.
“You know I’ll never do that. This is close, but it’s not the right place.”
Ever the restless wanderer, she was. Home was Texas simply because that was where she’d been raised. But so far, there hadn’t been a place that grabbed her and held on tight. Memphis was as close as she’d come.
Sometimes I couldn’t help but wonder if it was more about lack of a person rather than the place. Like deep down, she was searching for that one person that made her want to plant roots.
Not that she’d ever admit it.
I laughed out loud at the thought but hadn’t meant to.
“What are you laughing at?” she asked sharply.
“Nothing. Sorry. I got lost in my head for a moment there.”
“Yeah, sure,” she mumbled, not sounding like she believed me. “You call your uncle yet?”
“No,” I grumbled, flopping back in the chair unhappily. “Why, is he bugging you?”
“Might have talked to him earlier.”