“Will you make a stencil?” I wasn’t sure how he preferred to work.
“Yup, just give me a minute. You need a drape?”
“Whatever makes you more comfortable.” I winked at him.
“What kind of badass biker would I be if I draped you now?” He gestured for me to lose my top.
I peeled off my tank. My front-fastening bra probably was low enough so I left it on.
“Put it here.” I brushed the area over my heart. “Make the blood drip here, between my breasts.” I grabbed his drawing. “Can you add a deep color, like poison? Webbed up from the base of the flower?”
“Wicked, Mama.” He surveyed my chest. “First piece on the front. Wow. An honor.”
“I planned to fill my back before I moved on, but it needs to be here.” I pointed to my heart.
I sat in his chair and leaned back, anticipating the pain. He prepared his tools and taped the picture to a mirror by the chair. Soon the gun touched my skin. Pain swept over me, not terrible pain, but enough to take over my mind, leaving it blank.
“Holy shit.” Avery’s voice made my eyes pop open.
“Hey, what you doing here?” I asked.
Zayn didn’t stop the work. I glanced at the time—ten until five. His client would be here soon.
“I have to change our date at Blue’s to six, instead of later.” She gulped, looking from Zayn to me.
“Yeah, it should work,” I said as the front bell rang.
Mark sauntered back.
Shit. I forgot he was Zayn’s five o’clock.
He smiled wide. Apparently, he enjoyed the up-close view of my breasts. Zayn stopped working and glanced at Mark, frowning at the way he ogled me.
“I got maybe fifteen here with Mama. You mind if I start with you late?”
Mark definitely didn’t mind.
“Then I’m staying too.” Avery grinned at me. “Research for my first one.”
Zayn lifted a brow at Avery’s announcement and then turned to me. A question in his gaze.
“It’s fine. Thanks for waiting, Mark.” The buzz started again, shooting pain up my sternum as he added the drops of blood. A clean pain. Honestly, I craved more and wished I’d picked a bigger piece.
“Mirror or picture?” he asked.
I picked a mirror, even if it wasn’t as accurate. I didn’t want my boobs in his camera memory. He spun the barber’s chair toward the mirror. The finished piece was beautiful, with hints of color, but my skin showed through in several places. A trace of black lingered in the center of the flower—the poison. A crimson line flowed from the flower and the three red drops trailed down the split of my breasts.
“It’s perfect. You’re right, this is much better than my idea.” He was talented, almost as talented as Dare. In a few years, Zayn might surpass him.
He grabbed the Teflon gauze we used to cover new tats.
“Can I see, um, closer?” Avery stood beside me.
“You, yes.” I stuck my thumb over my shoulder. “Not Mark.”
He chuckled behind me.
“Did it hurt?”
Why is it always the first question?
“Pain’s part of life. Get over it already. With this, I can always remember the way I feel right now. The lesson of now.”
“All your tats tombstones?” Zayn met my gaze in the mirror.
Tombstone was a word some artists used for tattoos that were lessons or markers of a specific time.
I nodded my confirmation while Zayn taped the gauze in place. I slipped my shirt on.
“Can I take off?” I glanced up at him.
“Yeah, see ya tomorrow. Be good.” He held up a hand in a wave.
Avery followed me upstairs, asking a thousand questions about tattoos. I tried to be patient. Today had sucked, and patience was in short supply.
Barely able to focus at Blue’s, I ended up leaving early. Once I’d told the girls Dare had been in the shop, they didn’t ask any more questions. I took a book to bed, but suddenly reading about love held no appeal.
I lay in bed waiting for sleep to claim me, but it didn’t for a long time.
* * *
Dare parked his bike in front of the shop the next afternoon. Two hours before his appointment.
This was awkward, but I had to get over it.
He smiled when he walked in, and I stopped breathing.
“Heard you got new work.” He bent his head toward the gauze that peeked out of my T-shirt.
“Yeah, a new flower.” I forced the words out, hoping they sounded normal.
“Perfect choice.” His gaze lingered on my tits and my nipples tightened. “Great work on the flyers. Rebel’s making copies and putting up the ones for Ardmore.”
My heart raced. His approval made happiness swell in me. “Thanks.”
Then he walked past me, no flare or intense stares, and definitely no broken heart hiding under the surface. Maybe I’d imagined more than was real. Part of me yearned to throw myself at his feet and beg forgiveness.
But I had some restraint.
I walled all the crap up tight, sealed it and locked it in a chest and threw it in the dark hole with all my other garbage. I smiled until my cheeks hurt.
Every damn biker stopped and spent time at the shop today, but instead of reassuring me, pain throbbed in my chest because I knew most were lining up to claim me. Gimp, Jericho, Bear, Romeo and Thorn treated me the same. I remained Mama to them. Thorn showed me a new reaper Zayn had added to his arm, and a barbwire necklace bisected his Adam’s apple.
“Looking good, Thorn.”
“You want...” He shook his head.
“I’m Bear’s property now, but thanks for the offer.”
He grinned at me and turned into an entirely different man with a smile.
During a moment when my domain emptied, I swallowed gulps of water trying to smooth out my emotions from the stream of bikers.
“You need to pick.” Angel sneered at me. “Not good to be unclaimed. Bad for the club. Bad for you.”
I pressed my lips together and walked past her.
“He’s done with you. He never goes back.” Her words chased me down the hall. “Already fucked you out of his system.”
I kept my walk slow and stopped to chat with Rock and Dare as I passed through the tat room on my way to the supply closet. Once inside I rested my forehead on the cool metal shelf. I gritted my teeth and stuffed her words away with everything else.
Days passed, and I wished it hurt less, but it didn’t. As the weekend grew near, Thanksgiving was the topic on everyone’s lips. MJ called and asked me to cook, but I lied and told her I had plans with Avery, which could have been true. She’d invited me to her house for Thanksgiving, but I’d refused her offer too.
I wished I had a family, but Dare had been my only family.
I bought five mysteries to read since romance was off the table for a while. Thanksgiving Day, I ate junk food, not turning on my stove, and read a mystery. Around six, I heard a thumping below me.
Who is here?
Creeping down the stairs as silently as possible, I opened the door and moved down the small hall. I peeked into the workroom. Dare sat in a barber’s chair, a bottle of whiskey in hand. I slid down the wall until I sat. I should leave, but my legs refused to move. My gaze was glued to him, and I wasn’t strong enough to look away or brave enough to walk into the room.
He stared at the ceiling and drank the whiskey. His shaggy hair was messed up, like when he woke up in the morning. The club’s Thanksgiving meal should be served right now. Why wasn’t he there?
Had he come to see me?
No. He thought I’d left. I’d made sure everyone heard I’d be at Avery’s.
I ached at the
sight of him like this because I’d caused the rift. Eventually I stood up and crept away. His mood probably had nothing to do with me. The holidays sucked for lots of people, including me.
Friday I spent with Glory and Avery and the rest of the girls shopping in Oklahoma City. I experienced the Black Friday madness for the first time. Avery laughed, loving the chaos. We all wore Santa hats, and I admit I had fun buying presents. I decided this Christmas would be different.
Glory and I sat in a Starbucks while the others shopped. I told her about finding Dare, admitting I’d stayed home on Thanksgiving.
“Neither of you sound happy. You can change that.” Glory sipped her drink with a smug look on her face.
“You don’t think he’s beneath me?”
“You’ve been talking to Frankie.” She shook her head. “Some think like that, but not me or Avery. Happiness isn’t beneath you.”
“I screwed it up.” I banged my head on the table, but not hard enough to stop the ache.
“Fix it. Nothing’s forever unless you give up.” Glory put her hand over mine. “Fight for what you want.”
Could I fix what I’d broken? Was he too broken for me?
Am I too broken for him?
* * *
My alarm rang at seven the next morning. At eight, I walked in the back door. MJ jumped when the screen door slammed.
“You okay?” She hurried to me, concern wrinkling her face.
“Can I help you? I need to talk to Dare but not at work.”
Her eyebrows raised, but she didn’t ask questions. “Make the biscuits?”
I pulled out the recipe and started mixing. When the ovens were full of biscuits, I went into pie mode. I baked five nine-by-twelve-inch cobblers—two apple, a peach and two cherry. I also fixed lemon meringue for Thorn and a chocolate pie for Bear. Surely he liked chocolate.
MJ bustled to the back a while later. “He’ll be leaving soon.” She didn’t even look my way.
Now or never. What was the worst that could happen?
I’d be homeless when he fired me.
Not even a chance. I battled myself—fear versus strength. Backing away, running away. It’s what I did. Now I wanted to run so bad I found myself moving toward the back door.
Fuck this.
You screwed it up. You fix it.
I’d never live with myself if I always wondered if I could’ve made it better. Healed us.
If he walked away? Well, broken hearts weren’t fatal, after all.
I walked across the floor toward Dare before I realized I was doing it. Holy hell, no way to retreat now.
Jericho looked up as I approached the table.
“I baked some pies in the kitchen.” Words of appreciation flew my way but I was too nervous to make any out. “Dare, got a minute?”
He stood, and we walked a few steps away. “Need something for the shop?” His voice sounded tight.
“No. I hoped to talk to you, somewhere...less here.” I finished lamely, too tense to think.
“Sure, come on.” He walked down the hall and into the room where we’d stayed the first time I’d come to the club. The room where I’d screamed my release.
My fear threatened to overpower me, especially when my gaze strayed to the bed, and my knees weakened. Memories rained down on me.
No. I’m strong. I ask for what I want. I can do this.
“What is it?” Worry creased his brow.
I scrubbed my face. “I was wrong. It wasn’t enough. I hate us apart.” The words sped out of my mouth.
Shock, hurt, and hope flitted across his face before it went blank. “It was an intense ride. But all rides end.”
“Tell me you’re happy apart.” I pushed him. This was my one chance at redemption. “I’m sorry, I was so overwhelmed with the crazy shit my sister did, and I fell apart on you.”
Pain flashed in his eyes before he turned away. “I never asked how it went. You don’t need more of that. I’m not the sticking kind. Find a brother interested in the long ride.”
Anger lit me up. “I’m tired of everyone telling me to pick a new biker, like you guys are interchangeable.” I moved until I saw his face. “I want you, and if not you, none of them. You want me...?” I tried to make it a statement, but my voice faltered and it became a question.
His gaze raked me, searching for something. He shivered but didn’t look away. “Then it’s none, Red. I don’t go back. Always forward.”
He started to walk away.
“I’ll beg.” My voice quavered. Tears were seconds away.
Heat flashed in his gaze when he turned to me. “You made that mistake once with me. I didn’t deserve it then, and sure as hell don’t now. Never beg, Red. You’re worth more.”
And he left me again. I heard the back door slam, and tears ran in streams down my face. I wept for my lost love, a love gone forever.
Finality tried to push me into the ground, and I wanted to die.
Goddammit. Was I cursed to live with this painful tear in my core forever? I had no idea how to heal the wound.
Maybe it would never heal.
You need to leave. Lila, it’s time to start over. New town. New life.
I wiped my tears. He’d gotten more than three drops of blood like my tattoo showed. I opened the door, dreading my walk of shame to get my purse, but it leaned beside my door in the hallway. Grateful I didn’t have to go back, I almost ran from the club in a hurry to reach my car.
At home, I threw myself onto my bed. Hurt echoed through me and made it impossible to plan.
Where would I go? How would I find a job? Ardmore. Maybe the moon. Nowhere would be far enough that I didn’t feel the pain of Dare’s rejection. I’d used the last of my courage to offer my heart, and he’d walked away.
We were done.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lila
Knocking on my door woke me up. Did everyone believe in morning visits? Just once, I’d like someone to show up after noon.
Would it be Dare? I didn’t feel even a quiver of possibility. He’d made it clear. He didn’t want me. I unclasped the security chain I’d installed and opened the door to see Jericho scowling at me.
I held out my hand to invite him inside.
“You don’t have to tell me.” My words were quiet. Defeat tasted so bitter. “I’ll be gone this week.”
He flipped me around holding my shoulders. “What the hell happened? He staggers in drunk last night, says he’s leaving for a few days. And I should check on you because you might need help.”
“I guess he’s giving me time to clear out.” I pushed down the despair.
“You tell him you quit?” Anger transformed him.
If I cared, I might be scared. “No. I all but begged him to take me back. Told him I’d been wrong, messed up from my sister and wasn’t thinking right. I asked him for another chance.” I bit my lip.
He shook me. “You don’t make sense.”
I stared at him unable to speak.
He let me go and I stumbled backward into the couch and sat.
“You been drinking?”
I laughed. “Nah, but if this was the pain he felt, I could almost understand why he drank.” I buried my face in my hands.
“Who?”
“My father.” I sighed and curled up.
“So you’re leaving?” Jericho sat in the chair.
“Isn’t it what you’re here to encourage?” I kept my head buried in the couch. “I told him it was him or none of you. I’m not interested in the exchange program.”
Jericho laughed.
I lifted my head to glance at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Mama. Just like the way you said it. The exchange program. Exactly how I feel when M
J shoves women at me.”
“You can’t run away from MJ.” I sucked in another breath and pushed myself up. “A week. Will it be quick enough?”
“I’m not firing you. Not asking you to leave. Dare didn’t either.” Jericho’s fierce stare burned into me, past the hurt.
“You aren’t. Why?” I studied Jericho, trying to understand him.
“I like you. You’re a good friend to all of us. You don’t want to be an old lady, fine. I’d hate to lose your friendship.”
“My friendship?” The words didn’t make sense.
“Yeah, Mama. You’re my friend. Bear’s too. Lots of guys, and we ain’t exactly made it easy for you.” He frowned. “Fucking idiot.” He mumbled the words.
“What?”
“Dare’s a fucking idiot for refusing what he wants. But he chose. Time for you to choose.” Jericho’s tone held an edge. He challenged me.
“What choice?” I didn’t have one. I had to go, start over. It wore me out thinking about it.
“Leave. Work at the shop. Work for me somewhere else.”
“I’ve made a fool of myself. Everyone knows he blew me off, again.”
He stood and went to my fridge. “You don’t have any beer,” he called out.
“Don’t drink,” I yelled back.
“What are you going to do?” He now stood in the middle of the room.
“I never thought I had a choice.” Possibilities fired in me, but I wasn’t sure what to do. Stay or go?
Jericho sat back drinking his pop while I pondered my choices. My heart had made up my mind, but a voice inside me warned it was a mistake. But then all my life choices ended up mistakes, so any choice I made was likely to go sideways sooner or later.
I looked up at Jericho. “I’m staying.”
I’d never had friends before, and I didn’t want to leave them behind. My relationship with Dare had ended, and it hurt to even think of him—but the way I loved him, it didn’t matter how far I went, it would hurt all the same.
“Need a new job?” He folded his hands behind his head with a satisfied grunt.
I shook my head. “Not now. I need some time to get it all straight, but I’m not running. If it’s too awkward, then yeah, I won’t make the guys live like that.” I exhaled a big breath. “When we broke up, Bear offered to make me his ‘girl Friday,’ helping Ollie with the business side of JB Productions. I’ll do it, or find a non-club job in town. But I like working in the shop.”
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