by London Casey
Trev climbed onto his ride, fired it up, and sped away, the call of steel horse crying out to the silent cemetery.
Inside himself, Trev felt something… the Griffin thing… almost a year later… but there was something lingering…
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three.
The whir of the needle was her only escape. Living through the stories of those who gave their clean skin to ink was the best part of the job. The most ironic thing about Eden was that while she was considered one of the best tattoo artists in the area, she didn’t have a single tattoo on her. Because of that, it made her even more special. Nothing against tattoos, Eden wasn’t sure if she’d ever find anything worth putting on her skin to be there forever.
She worked long hours, saved her cash, lived in a small apartment, and when she wasn’t tattooing, she was drawing pictures, dreaming of a life where she could find her mother, her father, and find out the truth of herself. All she knew was that right from birth she had been given up for adoption. Her adoptive parents - Bruce and Lena, so fucking middle class and perfect - were killed in a head-on collision when Eden was fifteen. Lena’s sister, Leslie, stepped in and raised Eden until she was eighteen. Leslie worked for a marketing company and that’s where Eden got her start with drawing. She literally just picked up a pen and started to draw.
Soon she was drawing eight, ten, twelve hours a day, recreating everything about her life she loved and lost. For an entire summer, she drew pictures, collecting enough that when Aunt Leslie found them, she passed them to her boss. Overnight, Eden became a star. So much so she was going to have her artwork on display. She was going to go attend a prestigious art school. Hell, she even had a job offer lined up with Leslie’s company. She’d work there part-time, attend school full-time, and become the epitome of surviving the tragedy of the death of her adoptive parents.
Eden gathered up all the artwork and lit it on fire.
Aunt Leslie had a fit and told Eden to move out. It was a silly fight. Aunt Leslie had too much wine that night, but Eden left anyway. She didn’t want to be part of any family if it wasn’t her real one. Her quest to find her real parents took her to Los Angeles. Her drawings took her to the beach which didn’t provide a damn thing financially. Then she met Dimitrio. He was tall, covered in ink, and gave her a hundred bucks to tattoo his left calf. When she said she’d never tattooed anyone before, he said he didn’t give a shit. When she asked what he wanted, he said anything. Eden did her first tattoo in Dimitrio’s shop, after closing, doing it freehand, drawing a skull with a snake slithering through the mouth and left eye socket. She completed the designed with red and black roses. When she finished, she wept and Dimitrio handed her a thousand dollars in cash.
“What’s this for?” she asked him.
“First week’s pay. You’ll get paid every Friday, plus whatever tips customers throw at you. Be here Monday. I’ll have all the equipment and supplies you’ll need.”
That was the beginning of Eden’s new life and career.
She still checked in with Aunt Leslie once in a while, but not too often.
Well, she hadn’t talked to Aunt Leslie in almost a year. Not since the lawyer contacted her and gave her The Letter.
In her mind, Eden called it The Letter because it was the most powerful thing she’d ever received in her life. It was a letter from her birth father, along with pictures to prove his existence, her birth mother’s existence, and what to do when she received the letter.
Eden took the needle from the man’s shoulder and wiped the ink away. A tiger stared back at her, good enough to be alive. This guy came with no story though. He just liked tigers.
After a few more minutes of shading, she was done.
“How’s that look?” Eden asked.
“Ah, damn,” the guy said. “That’s perfect. It’s looks fucking real.” He looked at Eden. “Sorry for the language.”
“I work in a tattoo shop, man,” Eden said. “You can’t imagine the shit I hear.”
“Thanks for this. It’s amazing. Really. You’re really good. And you have no ink?”
“Not that you can see,” Eden said with a sly grin.
The guy’s eyes lit up.
She stood and took her gloves off, throwing them out.
“I’m only kidding,” Eden said. “I have no ink. No desire.”
“That’s crazy. And you do work like this? You’re the best.”
“If I’m the best then anyone who touches me wouldn’t be the best.”
The guy nodded. “Yeah, right.”
He took out some my money and handed Eden a generous tip. She thanked him, explained the instructions for care - not that he needed it as his other arm was half a full sleeve of tattoos - and sent him to the counter.
That was the last one for the day.
The shop closed up twenty minutes later and Eden sat in her chair and opened her top drawer. That’s where she kept The Letter. Reading it so many times had it tattooed in her mind. It was so dumb to wait this long, right? He had sent The Letter, but he also made it very clear that Eden had no obligation to contact him. Her father just wanted her to know he knew who she was.
“Hey,” a voice said from behind her.
Eden turned and saw Dimitrio standing there. He was a beautiful man but they were far too close as friends to let anything get in the way of that.
“Hey,” I said.
“Working OT?”
“Just sitting and thinking.”
“You could do that at home. I need to make a drop at the bank in the morning. Are you okay opening?”
“Sure thing,” Eden said.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“You don’t know a lot about me,” Eden said. “Do you?”
“What I know I like.”
“I was adopted, Dimitrio.”
“Oh, shit,” he said. “I didn’t know that.”
“And my adoptive parents were killed in a car accident. I never really had anything go my way.”
“Don’t say that, Eden. You’re good at what you do. Everything bad that happens comes with good. It balances the universe out.”
“You really believe in that kind of stuff?”
“I do,” Dimitrio said. “It’s how I survive. Rain sucks, but it makes flowers grow. Right?”
“Sure,” Eden said and grinned. “This is going to sound crazy. I got a letter from my birth father.”
“Whoa,” he said, eyes wide. “That’s deep.”
“Yeah. He sent it like almost a year ago,” Eden said. “I got it just as I was starting to settle in here. It was the first time I felt comfortable and I just didn’t know what to do with it. I mean, he laid it out pretty clear there was nothing good waiting for me with him. It wasn’t like my father was someone famous and rich.”
Dimitrio nodded. “So what’s holding you back?”
“Now? It’s the time. It’s been too long.”
“Don’t say that. Timing is never right in life.”
Eden smiled again. She looked into Dimitiro’s kind brown eyes and bit her bottom lip. She opened her mouth to say something but her words were stolen with the sound of a gun.
By the time Eden managed to scream, Dimitiro was on the floor, dead.
*
As her scream started to ease, running out of breath and sound, there were three men hovered around her. She couldn’t stop looking at Dimitiro’s dead body on the floor, blood pooling all around him. The three men were in leather cuts and wore black masks. One of them slapped her across the face and she looked at him, seeing nothing but the white of his eyes and the brown color of his iris.
“Fuck!” another yelled. “The bitch really is here. Our work is cut out for us now.”
“Clean it all out,” the third ordered.
“What about her?” the guy that slapped her asked. He grabbed her arm and forced her to stand. One swipe of his hand cleared off her station and he pressed his body to hers, forcing her against it. “She’s fucking gorgeo
us. I’ll love to have my way with her.”
“No evidence,” the first guy said. “Move. Now. Get all the cash we can.”
“What do you have in your hand, girl?” the guy asked.
“Fff… fuck you,” Eden said.
The guy grabbed for the letter and Eden hurried to slap him. It did nothing because the guy was wearing a black mask. It distracted him enough that Eden was able to lift her knee into his groin, sending him stumbling back. She lunged forward and someone else grabbed her left wrist. This time when Eden swung, she did so with a fist, hitting the second guy with a punch. He jumped back, grabbing for his face. The third guy, the ring leader, he simply just blocked the way, crossing his arms.
“Let me go,” she said. “I have no idea who you are. You killed Dimitiro.”
“Fuck him,” the man said. “Fucking filth.”
Eden tried to make a run but the guy had his arms around her in a second. He lifted her up and twirled her around, laughing as he did so. It was a deep laugh, throaty like he was sick. It instantly stuck into her mind. He then let her go, sending her flying through the air. She smashed into a wall and then fell, the letter floating in the opposite direction. He walked over to the letter and picked it up.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he said. “Of all goddamn things…”
As the guy read the letter, Eden spotted the picture of her pregnant mother and her father kissing the round belly. She reached for it, able to get it, and she quickly tucked it into her back pocket. She then jumped up to her knees, palms on the floor, and started to crawl toward the back of the shop. There was a security alarm she could hit, alerting the need for help.
Scrambling, she heard the ripping sound of a gunshot as it missed her by no more than six inches, hitting a wall. She quickly rolled to her right and kicked back, putting herself against a wall in another tattooing booth. Reaching up, she grabbed the tattooing gun and knew she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
None of this made sense and maybe it never would. They were three thugs looking to knock off a tattoo shop. But why kill Dimitrio so fast?
Tears filled Eden’s eyes as she saw the man turn the corner, gun and letter in hand. He slowly walked forward.
“Hey!” he yelled. “You two fucks up there! Clean out everything. If it’s worth anything, I want it.” He then set his eyes on Eden. He shook the letter. “This true?”
“I guess,” Eden said. “Who are you?”
“You don’t want to fucking know. Tell me this letter is true.”
“I said I guess. I haven’t talked to him or her. It came almost a year ago.”
“And you’re still reading it?”
“I was asking Dimitrio for advice before…”
Eden felt her lips quiver.
“Aw, sweet thing,” he said and crouched down. “When I’m done with you, you’re going to wish all I did was put a bullet in the side of your fucking head.” He then took out a lighter and lit the letter on fire.
Eden leaned forward and the guy pointed the gun at her, winning the battle easily.
The letter burned into nothing, all the words from her father gone. They were, of course, locked in Eden’s memory, but that too seemed to be counting down to an end.
“Now that we have that gone,” the guy said, “you can decide how you want to take this. Turn around and give it to me or I’ll knock you out and take what I want.”
“What do I have to do with this?” Eden asked.
“You’re now my enemy. For where you came from. The cunt you crawled out of and the cocksucker that put you there. Talk about bad timing. Bad luck. Goddamn, girl, has anything gone right in your waste of a life?”
The guy laughed again. Eden saw the gun move away from her.
It was her only chance to strike.
She brought her right hand forward and wanted to jam the tattoo gun and needle right into the guy’s eye and somehow kill him. There was a small hesitation and Eden ended up stabbing him in the chest. It was hardly enough to really hurt him, let alone kill him. But it was enough that he dropped the gun, fell back, and screamed.
Eden jumped over him and ran. He quickly grabbed her ankles, bringing her to the floor. A jolt of pain shot through both her knees up into her back. For a split second she was paralyzed. Looking to her left, she saw one of the men. He started to reach for what she knew had to be a gun.
Eden quickly looked over her shoulder and saw another chance. She kicked with her other foot and blasted the guy in the face. It took two hard kicks to get him to let her go. She then kicked away, got to her feet, and ran like hell. Voices were screaming at her and her body shook with intense fear, waiting for a bullet to take her life away.
She got to the back room, peeled open the plastic casing of the alarm system, and pressed the emergency button. There was no time to stand, wait, talk, whatever. Eden then bolted for the backdoor, making her final escape into the night. Somehow she had managed to keep her cell, her keys, and the picture of her mother and father. Her apartment was close enough to the shop that she didn’t have a car. That’s probably why the intruders were surprised to see her there, they only saw Dimitrio’s luxury car out front.
As Eden ran, she looked back only once, but saw nothing but darkness. Maybe a minute or so later she heard sirens. They could have been for anything, but somehow she knew they were heading for the tattoo shop.
The second she got into her apartment, she shut the door, locked it, and collapsed to the floor in a heap of sweat and tears. She hugged her knees and shook with fear and anger, trying her hardest not to relive what had just happened.
She forced herself to her feet and rushed to the kitchen sink. Leaning over, Eden lost her stomach. It ended with her dry heaving, crying, shaking. She reached for her pocket, knowing she should probably call the police and explain what had just happened. She was the only eye witness. But to what? Someone killed Dimitrio and threatened her. It was pretty obvious whoever they were, they instantly knew who her mother and father were.
Eden grabbed the picture from her pocket and examined it. She ran her thumb across the picture.
Maybe this is my sign.
“To do what? Run?” she whispered to nobody else in the apartment.
It was the most insane thing to think and perhaps do, but there was a chance those men were still out there, still looking for her. It made her want to finally do it. To go see her father. To get his help. She could explain what had happened and see what kind of man he was, if he would help her, protect her, show her a place to actually call home. With Dimitrio dead, that meant no more tattoo shop and no more job.
In the matter of a second, Eden’s entire world had been turned upside down.
She went to her bedroom and looked around. Everything was bought used. Everything had no meaning to her. The closet was full of clothes, all of which easily packed into two large suitcases. She cleaned out the bathroom of supplies she needed and grabbed a few bottles of water for the car ride.
Frelen was only a couple hours away.
This entire time, her father was just a couple hours away.
And better yet, those guys in the black masks thought they were tough?
Eden’s father was a member of an outlaw motorcycle club.
Her father part of Back Down Devil MC.
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four.
Miller stood at the head of the table. There was a massive spread of breakfast foods, a regular Sunday meal for the table. It was something Miller started a few months back, trying to bring a greater sense of family to the clubhouse. Considering there were now lots of decent women and babies showing up, he wanted to clean up the image a little.
Well, at least on the outside of the conference room.
Prospects threw some tablecloths over the pool tables and cooked breakfasts for girlfriends, mistresses, any relievers that were hanging around, trying to throw up the last bit of cum and vodka from the night before. You know, just family shit.
Tr
ev had his fourth helping of eggs, bacon, and sausage. He washed it down with his third cup of coffee and then leaned back in the chair and let out a groan.
“You good?” Miller asked.
“What?” Trev asked. “Like nobody else is fucking eating?”
“Bro,” Blaine said, pointing, “the only thing I eat that much of and with that much passion is between a woman’s legs. Goddamn that was a lot of food.”
Trev looked up and down the table. “All the shit we have going in this club and you motherfuckers are going to worry about my eating?”
Nate started to laugh bringing the rest of the table to life.
“He does have a point,” Gaige said.
“Hey, real quick,” Blaine asked. “I have a tit question.”
“A tit question?” Jace asked.
“You locked yourself to one set of tits, brother,” Landon said. “You’re on your own.”
Blaine rose up. “Now hold on a second. Miller will get this.” He patted Miller’s shoulder.
“By all means,” Miller said. “Forget the botched job the prospects did with our friend in the trunk. Forget the head from Ethan and the PD. Fuck it, forget the wars brewing on our border. Let’s hear a story about Blaine’s titty problem.”
“Well, it’s not a problem,” Blaine said. “It’s a thing. I mean, when I go to town on Jessa, she starts leaking, right? Even when I’m taking care of her pussy. So I be the nice guy and lick it all up. You know, the milk.”
Right on cue, everyone put their cups down.
“Oh, fuck,” Erik said.
“You like the taste of that?” Trev asked. “That’s what this is?”
“Of course I like the taste,” Blaine said. “I’ve been fantasizing of it since Miller’s old lady was here, letting that kid suck on her tits.”
“I’m going to rip your fucking throat out,” Miller said.
“Sorry,” Blaine said. “My point is that I saw she had pumped some into bottles for the little guy, right? Well… I was thirsty… I was horny…”
“Oh, fuck me,” Gaige said.
“You didn’t,” Trev said.
“I did,” Blaine said. “Now she’s pissed at me for it. They’re not for my nourishment, she said.”