by Marie James
“I’m back, baby,” he says after picking up his phone off the bedside table. His eyes find mine as he walks toward the bathroom. “You showering tonight?”
“Naw, man. It’s all yours.” I undress quickly before falling into bed, praying that he doesn’t kill me in my sleep.
Chapter 21
Molly
“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Zoe mumbles as we pull up to the closed gate. “Pete’s not going to let us out.”
“There’s one thing you need to know about Pete,” I begin as I roll down the window.
“A little late to be heading out, don’t you think?” Pete crouches down, frowning when he sees it’s only the two of us.
“Tampons.”
“What?” He cringes, his nose scrunching up as if he smells something foul, and I’m barely able to hold back a laugh.
“We’re out of tampons.” I bite my lip until the urge to grin ceases. “There are five of us that are flowin’ big time, and we need tam—”
“Fine,” he grunts. “Fuck. Quit talking about it.”
“Hush,” I hiss when the blanketed form in the backseat giggles.
Pete opens the gate, and even in the dim moonlight, he looks green. After waving us through without any more trouble, he closes the gate right behind us.
“See? The one thing you need to know about Pete is the mention of any bodily function grosses him out.”
“Good to know,” Kai says as he pops up in the backseat. Smiling at me in the rearview mirror, he has a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Lynch is going to kill me,” Zoe mutters.
“You’re the one who wanted to do this in the first place,” I remind her.
“I mentioned it in passing,” she clarifies. “I didn’t mean right this second.”
“No time like the present.”
“Lynch is going to nut his jeans when he sees his mark on you,” Kai adds.
“And what is Professor going to do when he finds you gone?” Zoe turns in her seat to look back at our partner in crime.
“Delicious things, sweetheart. Filthy, devious things.” He sighs loudly. “I can’t fucking wait.”
Zoe and I both chuckle.
“Are you getting a tattoo tonight as well?” Zoe already knows my answer, so I wait for Kai to respond.
“Not a damn chance,” he responds indignantly. “I know which buttons to push with Professor. He’s adamant about being the only one to mark my skin.”
“He does tattoos?” Zoe asks with the innocence my deviant brother still hasn’t managed to fuck out of her.
I don’t know what look Kai is giving my best friend because I’m pulling up to a stop sign, but it’s enough to make her gasp when she realizes what he’s talking about.
“He hurts you?” Kai doesn’t respond. “You like it?”
“Why do you think I’m so naughty all the time? Don’t look at me like that, Zoe. Pain can be pleasurable.”
“Really?” The curiosity in her voice surprises me. “Maybe Ly—”
“Nope.” My hand shoots up between us. “We are not talking about my brother spanking you, whipping you, or any other form of sexual activity. Hard limit.”
“Maybe Br—”
“Not another word.” I glare at Kai in the rearview mirror.
“What do you think he’s going to do when he sees your tattoo?” Zoe asks softly, only partially changing the subject.
“Can we not talk about our guys—” I grit my teeth before continuing. “The guys. Tonight is supposed to be fun.”
Tension hangs in the air for the rest of the drive into Worcester, and I feel like an asshole for snapping at them. My confusion and uncertainty about my situation isn’t their fault.
“Look, guys—” I begin when I pull up to the tattoo shop and put the car in park.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kai interrupts. “One day we can speak openly about all the things, but I understand now isn’t the right time.”
Smiling weakly at his kind words, I turn my attention to my best friend. Knowing her as well as I do, I know her narrowed gaze means I’m not off the hook for long. She may not demand answers in front of Kai, but eventually, she will force me into talking about what’s been bothering me, and the few scant details I’ve given thus far won’t be enough next time.
“Come on,” Kai urges as he opens the back door to climb out. “Let’s get into some trouble.”
Zoe and I follow him out and stand in front of the shiny new building.
“I thought tattoo shops were kind of grungy,” Zoe says.
“The artist here is the second best in town.” Zoe grabs my arms, stopping me from moving toward the door.
“Second best? You want to get something permanently etched on your skin by the second-best guy in town?”
“Viper over on Main knows my brothers. He’d never ink me without their permission.”
“Girl.” Kai glares at me. “You are a grown ass woman. You need to stop letting those boys dictate your life.”
“Remind me exactly which tattoo you’re getting tonight.”
A smile spreads across his face. “Touché.”
“Come on. The Yelp reviews on this shop are fantastic.” I loop my arm through the one still angled on Kai’s hip and sweep my other one around Zoe’s shoulders. “This is going to be so much fun.”
I’d seen pictures online, but the thumbnails on my phone didn’t do this place justice.
“It’s like the waiting area of an expensive hotel,” Zoe whispers when we step inside.
We’re met with lush leather couches, glass tables, and designer lamps rather than the normal setup in tattoo shops. The only hand-drawn art on the walls are in massive frames with overhead spotlights. The air smells of vanilla, and although the girl sitting at the front desk has purple hair and more holes in her face than I have time to count, she’s giving us a genuine, welcoming smile.
“Welcome to Main Street Ink.”
My brow furrows. “Viper’s shop is on Main Street. You’re on Webster.”
She winks, the metal in her right eyebrow catching the light overhead. “Great marketing strategy, don’t you think?”
“And you haven’t caught any blowback from Viper?” I’ve heard he’s pretty vicious, although I’ve never met the man myself. Most of the guys from the club get their ink at his place.
“Nope,” she answers with a grin. “Viper wouldn’t lay a hand on me.”
“Why are you talking about your shithead brother?” A huge guy, covered in ink everywhere but his face, walks up from the back, but there’s no heat in his voice with the question.
She doesn’t answer, merely holds her hand out to me. “I’m Jade. This guy is my husband, Dawson.”
After releasing her hand, I shake her husband’s.
“What brings the Raven Queen and Princess here tonight?”
“How di—”
My mouth opens and closes several times without sound coming out.
“How do you know who we are?” Zoe’s voice is sure, challenging, but I don’t miss the step back she takes.
I’m a great judge of character. It comes from being around all sorts of people growing up in the clubhouse. Most that walk through the doors are amazing people, but there are always a few bad apples in every group. I’m not getting any type of sinister vibe off of either one of these people.
“That’s not necessary,” Dawson says to Kai.
Looking over, I see a glint off of the steel tucked into his waistband. Call me surprised, but Kai didn’t seem like the type of guy that would carry a weapon. I should’ve never underestimated him.
“You gals are pretty famous around these parts,” Jade says without a hint of fear in her voice. “Especially you.”
I follow her eyes to my best friend.
“Me?”
“It’s not every day that one woman could bring a man like Lynch Quintal to his knees.”
Dawson snorts behind her, leaning down
to nuzzle his nose against her neck. “You did the exact same to me, devil woman.”
“I like her,” Kai says near my ear.
“So.” Dawson claps his hands as he steps around his wife. “You guys are here to get some ink?”
Zoe and I nod.
“And you didn’t go to Viper because he’d turn you away without getting the prez’s permission?”
“Fuck,” I mutter and turn toward the door. I’m not even going to bother waiting for him to refuse us service. Arguing has never helped me in a situation like this before.
“Hold up, Princess.” I snap around at the name.
“Don’t call me that.”
As if surrendering, he holds his hands up near his ears. “Didn’t mean anything by it. I’ll ink you.”
“And me?” Zoe sounds hopeful.
“You too,” he agrees instantly. “Do you know what you want?”
An hour later, Zoe’s tattoo, a sleek raven with a length of rope in its claws, is complete, and I’m on Dawson’s table with half of my goodies below my waist hanging out. My solid black raven is complete, and he’s adding the finishing touches to the vibrant watercolors surrounding it.
“Oh shit,” Kai gasps, and it pulls me from my semi-sedateness.
“What?” I turn my head just in time to see Professor and the new guy Virus walking through the door.
“Dawson,” Professor snaps just as the tattooist pulls the needles from my skin and wipes over his completed work. “You think inking her is a good idea?”
“All done, gorgeous,” Dawson says with a wink before even looking at the man interrupting his work.
“Dawson!” Professor snaps with a sharpness that causes Kai’s eyes to flutter closed and a smile teases the corner of his mouth. The craziest shit turns that man on.
“Professor,” Dawson mimics as he raises his eyes to the towering man. “I’m more worried about the ink I put on her.”
He points his black-gloved finger at Zoe who only stares with wide eyes.
“Nark,” she hisses.
“Hold up,” Dawson says as he places a hand on my lower belly. “Let me put some ointment on it and get it covered. Be careful wearing panties for a couple of weeks with the placement of this piece.”
“Her brother would kill you for even mentioning her panties out loud,” Professor seethes.
After my new tattoo is greased and covered, I position my jeans over the area and zip them back up.
Dawson peels his gloves off, tossing them in the trash before standing to his full height. He’s an imposing figure, but the look in Professor’s eyes would hedge my bet in his direction.
“Lynch won’t lay a finger on me.”
Professor steps closer now that I’m out of the way. “That so?”
“We should get out of here,” Zoe whispers.
Kai’s hand is already back in the waistband of his jeans.
“Professor!” Jade squeals, running from the back room in his direction.
Confused looks mark all of our faces as she jumps into his arms and wraps her colorfully-tattooed limbs around his neck.
Dawson grins as Professor tries to free himself from the woman’s clutches.
“What the fuck?” Kai whispers more to himself than anyone else.
When Jade is back on her own two feet, she steps out of the way. What I thought was going to be a gun battle moments ago has somehow transformed into two big ass guys hugging each other. The back clapping echoes around us, and I don’t even know what to feel. My heart is still racing from the adrenaline that shot up when Professor walked up, ready to confront Dawson.
“Kai.” Professor waves in his direction. “This is Viking, the guy I told you about.”
“One of your friends from Cedar Junction?”
“That’s the one,” Professor answers, and then they all start talking.
Cedar Junction happens to be the prison Lynch spent five years in, and the place he also met Professor.
My night out having tattoo fun has suddenly turned into a fucking prison family reunion.
Chapter 22
Briar
“Well this place will never be featured on a ‘Visit Richmond’ advertisement,” Hornet mutters as we climb off of our bikes.
Lynch and Luis discussed our drop-off point, and the abandoned industrial site seems the perfect place. It’s a barren wasteland, forgotten by the blueblood aristocrats of Virginia. Hell, I imagine even the bums and vagrants don’t come down here. There’s a sinister cloak over the entire area as if the lost souls of murder victims are still floating around and unable to escape.
“It’s far from prying eyes.” Lynch points to the one way in and one way out design of the decrepit buildings situated in a massive rectangle of weathered concrete and broken glass. “We won’t be snuck up on.”
“Unless they got here before we did and are already training their fucking guns on us,” Ronan warns.
My eyes, already on the half-broken windows on the second and third floors, double their focus. Nothing seems amiss, other than the lurking unease and shiftiness of the air, but that doesn’t stop the thrum of caution pumping through my veins.
“Just be vigilant guys,” Lynch says. “Luis benefits from us more if we sell the drugs than if he does a one-off rip.”
I’m on pins and needles to the point my hands are shaking when the murdered-out Escalade pulls into the small opening the buildings create. It seems like the type of vehicle members of the cartel would drive, but we can’t ever be too sure.
Each of us is standing behind our bikes, even though they don’t offer much coverage if bullets start flying. We’re carrying an ungodly quantity of cash because Luis insisted on small bills as his form of payment. We had to split the money between all eight members’ saddlebags, much like we will have to do with the dope to get it where it needs to go.
The SUV rolls to a stop, too close to be anyone but the cartel, but we don’t calm even the slightest. Especially not when that big scarred faced motherfucker climbs out from the backseat. He glares at us from about twenty yards away, his face hard and menacing.
“And I thought I wore a lot of black.”
I sigh at TJ’s ability to spew bullshit even in a moment like this.
“That’s the fucker I was talking about the other day,” Ronan says on a hiss. “Gives me the chills just being this fucking close to him.”
“Chill out,” Lynch grits through his teeth.
“I kind of want to pick his brain,” TJ says.
“Sick fuck,” Chains replies, but there’s laughter in his voice.
The driver doesn’t exit the vehicle, but the front passenger side door opens, and a man I’ve never seen before steps out.
“El Presidente,” the passenger greets as he walks toward us. “I pray your ride here was safe and without adversity.”
“It was fine,” Lynch replies. None of us have taken our hands off of the butts of our weapons, but the Colombian in front of us doesn’t seem worried in the slightest.
The big guy goes to the back and lifts the hatch before angling his head around to stare in our direction.
“Your guys will need to get the merchandise out of the back. El Asesino doesn’t lift his hands for anyone but Sen͂or Jiménez,” the guy in front of us instructs.
Lynch nods, and Hornet, Ronan, and TJ make their way to the back of the vehicle.
“Is this for me?” Jiménez’s mouthpiece points to the bag at Lynch’s feet.
“It’s all there,” my president says as he slides the bag of cash toward the man with his foot. “Count it if you like.”
“We trust you,” he says as he leans down and grabs the handles. I would’ve believed him if it wasn’t for the twitch under his right eye.
Our guys make it back to our side, and without another word, the Colombians load back up into the Escalade and drive away.
“That was tense,” Ronan says with a humorless chuckle. “They’re way more intense than the Mexicans we
bought off of last month.”
“Same coke,” Hornet mutters as he begins disbursing the kilos.
“All there?” Lynch asks as he takes four bundles.
“I mean, I didn’t weigh it or anything,” the road captain says.
“Smartass.” I take my packages from him and begin to load them in my saddlebags.
“What do you mean it’s the same coke?” Ronan asks as he grabs the four kilos he’s responsible for. “This is Colombian coke, not Mexican coke.”
“This guy,” Chains says hitching a thumb over his shoulder with his free hand after walking away with his packages.
“Mexicans get their coke from Colombia,” I explain. “In dealing with us, the Colombians are just cutting out the middlemen, and it’s cheaper to move dope over water than on land through Mexico.”
“We’re now the middlemen,” TJ grumbles.
“The cartel is scrambling right now. They’re doing everything to cut the Mexicans out of their business,” I continue. Ronan’s brow furrows. This motherfucker is helping run one of the biggest distribution organizations on the east coast, and he doesn’t even know a damn thing about the roots of the product? “Haven’t you ever heard of reverse criminal colonization?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t watch the news.”
“The Mexicans used to be the pack mules for Colombian coke,” Lynch continues, not agitated in the least by our little impromptu education class in the middle of an abandoned industrial park where at any moment we could be rode up on and slaughtered for the thirty-two kilos of coke we were practically forced into buying. “Now, the Mexican cartels are infiltrating South America and taking over the plantations. The Colombian Empire isn’t as stable as Jiménez wants everyone to believe.”
“Shit,” Ronan whispers. “So maybe we should’ve stuck with the Mexicans.”
“We’ll bide our time.” Lynch climbs on his bike. “See how things play out over the next couple of months.”
Months? I think to myself. He just signed a five year contract with the Colombian cartel. As I climb on my bike, I have a sinking feeling that he’s planning something, and for the first time since I joined this MC, I don’t know a damn thing going on in his head.