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Blade: A Steel Paragons MC Novel (The Coast: Book 11)

Page 7

by Hart, Eve R.


  “And what, he might have mentioned that he hasn’t heard from me?”

  She laughed off my attitude.

  I couldn’t figure out why she’d dodged it every time. I was avoiding, I couldn’t deny that, but why couldn’t she just suck it up and help me out? Go with me once? Not like she could now. Maybe I would wait until she got back and spring it on her. I was sure she’d hate that but whatever. I didn’t see the big deal, they grew up around each other. And he was only like five years younger than her. At their age, that was basically the same thing.

  “Just go over there,” she said cutting into my thoughts. “Have dinner with him. I’m sure he’s lonely.”

  Yeah, he probably was because he was a surly, grumpy butt that was still stuck dealing with shit from his past. Trying to run from it, was more like it.

  “You’re only calling now because I can’t drag you along to it. Hardly seems fair.”

  “He loves you,” she reminded me.

  “I know. Just sometimes I don’t know what to do around him. I feel like… all he sees is how I failed and how I ended up.”

  You couldn’t run from your past. Both he and I were proof of that. It was always there no matter what move you made.

  “That’s not how he sees it and you damn well know it, Har,” she said nearly sounding like she was scolding me. It was out of love and I knew it.

  “I’ll call him,” I mumbled feeling like she’d won this round.

  “Good,” she replied and I’d bet my bottom that she gave a firm nod with the word. “Call your mama while you’re at it.”

  “Fine,” I said with a sigh knowing damn well that I’d been avoiding her too. I couldn’t help but feel like I’d let everyone down even if they had been nothing but supportive and there for me through everything.

  “How’s the shop?”

  “Well, it’s still standing,” I said with much cheer in my tone. “That has to count for something, right?”

  She laughed at me and it made me smile.

  “I’m on vacation, don’t stress me out,” she said with humor in her tone.

  “You’re not on vacation, you’re working. I bet you’re in between appointments right now.”

  “This is as close as it gets for me.” Yeah, I was one hundred percent right on that one. “Anyway, I’m calling for a reason.”

  “Oh, bugging me about my uncle wasn’t the reason?” I asked all dramatically.

  “Pain in my ass,” she mumbled. “No. Listen. I just got word that there’s a slot open at the convention in Myrtle Beach. I think you guys should try and get it. I called in a favor and they are holding that slot for you for twenty-four hours.”

  “Estelle,” I said feeling uncomfortable.

  “I know, but no one will know my name is attached to it. Said it was a favor for a friend. Okay?”

  “But we’ve hardly been open.”

  “It will be good exposure,” she added trying to make me see why we should do it.

  “I don’t…”

  “Just talk to the girls. You don’t have to do it, but I think it would be good for the shop.”

  She was right and she was also giving me an out.

  “What about the shop?” I asked, grasping for an excuse not to do it.

  “Plan ahead. You have time. Shut the shop down for the weekend, people are usually understanding for that sort of thing.”

  “Okay,” I said sounding a little resigned to the idea. “I’ll talk to the girls.”

  “I’ll send you the information. I’ll be there too,” she added like it would somehow make me feel better about it.

  We said our goodbyes and she told me she’d be heading back this way in a few days.

  Ever the restless soul.

  I didn’t need her to check up on me but it made me happy to know that I’d be seeing her again soon.

  I didn’t have to talk to the girls to know that they’d go for it. I might as well just get it in my head that we were going. It was exposure and that was a good thing. It also gave us the opportunity to show off our skills and meet new artists. Mingle and all that jazz. It was always good to make friends in the ink world, you never knew what could happen in the future. You might be out of a shop and in need of finding a new home. Not to mention that building a relationship with others could possibly lead to guest slots at their place. You know, if I ever planned on traveling or something.

  Yeah, I didn’t really see that in my future but why not keep my options open. Even if it was for the girls and not so much myself.

  “Wade,” I called out as I got to my feet and booked it back to my side of the building. “How do you feel about going to Myrtle Beach?” I gave her the biggest happy face I could muster up. Yes, I was trying to hide the fact that I didn’t really want to do this. That I had fears and doubts that were gripping me tightly on the inside.

  “Right now?” she asked looking confused.

  “What? No!” I shook my head at her. “For a convention.”

  “When?”

  I pulled up the info that Estelle had just sent me.

  “Two months,” I answered realizing that it wasn’t that far off but we still had some time.

  Some time to freak out.

  Some time to stress about the whole thing.

  With any luck, they’d shove us in a corner and we would get just enough attention to make it worthwhile.

  Okay, I get that I was being a scaredy butt. It was a little nerve-wracking but I also had my reasons why I didn’t want to be in the direct light.

  It was the whole point of moving here, after all.

  A new start and all that.

  That was what this was supposed to be.

  But was holding myself back really taking full advantage of that fresh start? No, I knew it wasn’t. So moments like this, I was torn.

  “I’m in,” she answered with a shrug as if she was leaving the final decision up to me.

  I loved that about her, she only pushed so far. But it was frustrating at times too.

  “Let’s do it,” I said with a little shimmy of excitement.

  Her smile was almost proud and aimed at me. Yeah, okay. It gave me the little push I needed. This would be a good thing. And more importantly, I could do it.

  Especially if I had my girls around.

  With that, I called the contact Estelle had sent me and got the ball rolling on this whole thing.

  Tomorrow I’d worry about all the things we had to get printed up for the convention.

  Yes, one thing at a time.

  Growth was good, I just had to keep reminding myself of that.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Blade

  The shop and bakery across the way had been open a little over a month. They hadn’t gotten a whole lot of people walking in and out of there but there were a few days I noticed a steady flow.

  I tried to look the place up but there wasn’t much on their website. No pictures of the artists, which it wasn’t like I could say much there because we didn’t have our pictures up either. Not that my ugly mug would make people come running in to get ink or a new hole in their body. Brand and Cami, yeah they could bring in people. And Sketch, well he had some kind of appeal. I didn’t get it, but women flocked to him like pigeons to a loaf of bread. He had a lot of charisma even if some of the shit that came out of his mouth made you want to shake your head most of the time.

  The lack of pictures wasn’t what caught my attention though, it was the fact that they had Estelle Wilder working there and not one single mention that she was. Or that it was her new shop. I didn’t know that for sure, but why else would she be hanging around there? I couldn’t figure out why she’d open a shop and not have her name attached to it. If people knew she was in town, I was sure the place would be flooded with clients. Even some that wouldn’t necessarily want to get ink from her, not minding getting work done by anyone there simply because Estelle had approved them. She would have had to, having them work for her and all.


  I might not have known who she was at first, but after Cami called Brand and they both went all fan-girly over the woman, I went looking. I quickly learned that she was a big fucking deal. She did awesome work and I couldn’t even deny that. I even went as far as to check out the other artists she had in her shops. Yeah, shops. Because the woman had a handful of them scattered all over the US. Most of them in larger cities, leaving me to wonder why she’d picked here of all places. This city wasn’t exactly small, but it wasn’t nearly as large as Charlotte or Raleigh. So if she had to settle in North Carolina, why did she do it here? And it wasn’t like this city had a lack of ink shops. There were so many that I couldn’t even keep track. Not that I needed to because we were doing well enough that I didn’t feel threatened.

  The more I tried not to think about it, the more it invaded my brain. I didn’t like things I couldn’t figure out. I had to have the answers because that was how life made sense to me.

  Even now, as I was tucked away in my booth so I wouldn’t stare at the building across the way, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And of course, that led me to thinking about the hot little redhead over there too.

  Fucking obsessive creep.

  That was what I’d turned into.

  I heard the bell over the door jingle but I didn’t move.

  Brand was chatting up whoever had come in and I figured he’d take care of it. Good. I wasn’t in the mood to do shit right now.

  “Blade,” Brand called out and after a huffed-out breath, I got to my feet.

  “What?” I said, my frame filling up the doorway to my station as I laid eyes on the guy Brand was talking to.

  “Got one for you,” Brand said with a shit-eating grin.

  I looked over the guy again noticing he had some fresh ink on his arm. Fresh as in just done. And half-finished from the look of the purple outline that still lingered on his skin.

  I nodded to his arm needing an explanation before I took him on.

  “Wasn’t happy with the service I was getting so they suggested I come over here.”

  I didn’t care for this guy but that didn’t matter. It was work and if anything, it would keep me busy.

  “Fine,” I grunted and then turned to head back into my room.

  Brand got the guy started with the paperwork while I got set up.

  Five minutes later, the guy was sitting in my chair.

  I wiped his arm down, studying the lines as I did.

  I couldn’t figure out what the problem was. The lines were steady and not too shallow or deep. Pretty good work if I say so. The design wasn’t anything to talk about but I had a feeling that wasn’t the artist’s fault. This guy came off as the kind of asshole that would want something generic and trendy.

  I let him tell me what the plan was for his work, then I got to doin’. I wanted to get him in and out as fast as possible.

  He tried to make small talk, but all he received as a response was various grunts. Still, he kept talking.

  “Thanks for doing this, man,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I replied without stopping.

  “That bitch across the way kicked me out just ‘cause I grabbed her ass. You should have seen it though, and trust me, if you had, you’d have grabbed it too. I mean, she was wearing these shorts that just begged me to do it.”

  My jaw ticked as I listened to him.

  My foot lifted off the peddle causing the needle to stop vibrating.

  I was pissed.

  And this time I wasn’t going to hold it in.

  I couldn’t, something had snapped inside of me the moment his words really registered in my brain.

  “What did you say?” I growled, looking him dead in the eye.

  “The chicks across the way. I only went in there because I’d heard they were hot. And they are hot as fuck but they’re also fucking bitches. That redhead one was working on me and couldn’t handle what she was asking for. Bitches like that, they need to take what they can get. Not many men want an ass like that. I was doing her a favor.”

  My foot dropped back down so hard I might have broken the thing. The buzz started up again but I didn’t look at what I was doing as I bared down into his skin.

  “What the fuck, man?!” he screeched and tried to pull away from me.

  My free hand clamped down and his skinny ass wasn’t going anywhere.

  “You were doing her a favor, huh?” I said and the words seemed to vibrate out of me with an eerie edge. “Well let me do something for you then, return the favor and whatnot.”

  I dug the needle in, the ink mixing with the blood as it oozed out. I dragged the needle across his fresh work as he screamed like he was being murdered. Trust me, this was a lot nicer than the things I wished I could do to him.

  “Help!” he screamed but I didn’t let up.

  The needle continued to tear into his skin and I didn’t give a fuck about the path it was making.

  “Blade,” Brand said from my doorway in a calm but stern tone. “I’ve got a client and Cami is here.”

  “Yo, what’s goin’ on up in here?” Sketch said, pushing his way beside Brand. “Oh, shit. You done fucked up now, asshole.”

  I knew he wasn’t talking to me. And the laugh he let out told me he wasn’t going to try and stop me.

  The buzz stopped and I pulled the needle away. My free hand moved from his arm to his neck, holding him down while I set my tool to the side. I wasn’t done with this dickbag.

  I got to my feet, the rolling stool crashing into shit behind me.

  “Get him off me,” he whined. “Come on, man.”

  Without a word, I snatched him up by the back of his shirt. He stumbled along as I made my way to the front door, trying a few times to twist out of my grasp.

  “Don’t ever come back here,” I warned him with a hard punch to the gut that had him doubling over. “Don’t ever fuckin’ bother them again.”

  My boot made contact with his side and he fell over onto the sidewalk.

  “Help!” he screamed looking around for someone to come to his rescue. “Someone fucking help me. This guy is trying to kill me!”

  He tried to scramble away from me. I let him get a few feet away, a slight smirk on my lips seeing he had managed to put himself in the middle of the street. If only there had been a bus driving by. But no such luck, there wasn’t even so much as a bicyclist around.

  My boot came down on his shoulder, rolling him onto his back and pinning him down. I added a little pressure and let him scream for a good minute longer.

  The relief on his face the moment I pulled my foot away was amusing. He thought I was done with him. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t be. The rage I normally kept locked inside was slipping through the cracks. Each time his words repeated in my head, the devil in me laughed and clawed at my insides trying to surface.

  I knelt down to his level, delivering a punch to his jaw.

  Then I snatched him up, the front of his shirt stretching because he refused to get his feet under him. I lifted him up higher, making sure he was looking me in the eyes.

  “Next time I see you I won’t be doing you a favor. I’ll be getting rid of your body,” I said low and deadly.

  He was the only one that heard me but to anyone looking on, the threat was loud and clear.

  “Yeah, fuck, fine. I got you, man. J-just let me go,” he sputtered out and I was ninety percent sure he pissed himself.

  I lifted him up a few more inches, then dropped him to the ground without an ounce of care. I stood tall, watching him with deadly eyes as he scrambled to his feet and ran off.

  My chest heaved and I felt the blood pumping hard in my veins. I locked my knees to keep me in place because it was currently taking every ounce of restraint to keep from pulling out my blade and gutting him right there in the middle of the street.

  Despite what some people might have thought, I did have some kind of conscience. Or was at least smart enough to get that you couldn’t just kill someone right there in broad
daylight with possible witnesses around. It was bad enough that I’d beat the shit out of him, but I figured he was too much of a pussy to go to the cops.

  I took a step back, my gaze going to the other side of the street and zeroing in on the red hair right away. I’d drawn a crowd but hadn’t meant to. She didn’t need to see me like this.

  Shaking the haze from my head, I charged on.

  My target, the woman that had clouded my head.

  She swallowed hard and jumped the moment she realized I was coming for her. Then she was turning away from me and running to hide in her shop.

  I pulled the rubber gloves off as I stepped onto the sidewalk and tucked them into my back pocket.

  The other women were scrambling to get in behind Harley. Well, all except Estelle, who looked like she was either ready to hold the door open for me or block my path. I couldn’t tell which. She didn’t do either, just simply stared me down as if she was trying to read my intentions. I was sure she couldn’t because I wasn’t even sure of them myself. Still, I held her eyes daring her to see something I couldn’t see myself.

  I wouldn’t have said I was afraid of the woman but she was badass enough that I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.

  She raised her chin to me, a slight smirk pushing up the right side of her lips. With that, I reached for the door handle and pulled hard, nearly sending the thing back far enough to snap the hinge arm.

  “Where is she?” I growled, looking around like a wild animal.

  The tall blonde stepped forward as if to stop me but it was the quick glance at the back door that caught my attention.

  “Move,” I said firmly. I wasn’t going to touch her because I didn’t do that shit, but I’d be damned if I was going to let her stand in my way.

  She flinched but didn’t fucking move.

  My eyes locked onto the back door as I sidestepped her making sure not to even so much as brush against her shoulder.

  I pushed open the door, half expecting to find the back room empty knowing Harley could have escaped out the back door. But she hadn’t and I honestly didn’t know what to think of that.

  I grabbed a chair and shoved it up under the handle to keep anyone from busting in and interrupting us.

 

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