Inked: a Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Paula Cox

  Their hard work and ingenuity have been paying off. The last I checked, Anna had managed to sign up around forty people to get a version of the Circle of the Night tattoo done at her convention booth. Fifteen of them were our guys, but we had more signed up in case those other twenty-five decided to flake and back out on the security deposit. Hell, the entire club practically volunteered to get the tattoo done if it meant protecting Anna and stomping out the Knights for once and for all.

  “Okay. I’m ready.” Anna steps out of one of the booths carrying her mop pail. She wipes her bangs away with the back of her yellow-gloved hand. Even sweaty and worked up from sanitizing, she still manages to look unbelievably sexy. She sets down the pail, giving me a glance of the tops of her full, peach-colored tits, perky and beautiful as all get out. Her cutout back shows the line of tattooed moons that trace down her spine.

  We haven’t touched since that kiss in my office. I’m not sure why. I could have taken her then and there, or the next day and the day after that, but we just sort of fell back into Mack the bodyguard and his tattoo artist employee. The only thing that’s been different is that I haven’t left her side since. We haven’t returned to the safe house other than to grab some fresh clothes, and each night, she’s laid beside me, wrapped in my blankets with her chin pressed against my shoulders and her long, thick thighs draped over my legs.

  It’s been agony to keep my hands off her, especially when she’s throwing me bones like this, but I can feel that the distance between us is all Riley related. Since she opened up about him, she’s been more distant but more focused. It’s almost as if she’s concentrating on exacting revenge on him more than any of our guys are. Whatever he did to her, whatever he put her through, he certainly did a number on her. That kind of control is something I could never want for a free soul like Anna Fox.

  Anna pulls a piece of paper from the pockets of her cut-off shorts. “I made a list with descriptions in case it’s easier for you to help Ian grab the big things and me to just sort through the ink. I don’t want to spend too much time there. We have to be back here by eight p.m. for your sister’s restaurant opening.”

  I hate to admit it, but I completely forgot about Kimmy’s restaurant. It’s not like it’s been low-key or under the radar. Kimmy has been in and out of my apartment for days now finalizing details and making sure my guys were going to work the front door as security for the VIPs she was bringing in for the showcase. We even stopped operations today so as not to draw potential press attention to her landlords and the bikers occupying the back of the restaurant space.

  “Yeah,” I reply to Anna. “How could I forget? The moon revolves around my little sister and her big restaurant success.”

  “Someone sounds jealous,” Anna teases. “You wanna talk about that or save it for counseling?”

  I grit my teeth and reply, “No, I’ll pass. Let’s get the hell out of here so I can get back home to clean up and put on some damn monkey suit she picked out for me.”

  “Mack in a suit. I can’t wait to see that.” She winks at me before striding past. I parked the van just outside the door. No cycle for today. While we’ve been keeping an eye out on Ian’s place since Anna opened the shop here, I’d still rather keep a lower profile and not draw anyone’s attention before we even have a chance to enact our tattoo convention plan.

  I toss Anna the keys to her car before heading to the driver’s side of the van. She’s been complaining lately about not having driven anywhere. I don’t blame her. There’s freedom in the roads, even if it’s just taking the route to the grocery store once a week. I couldn’t imagine life without an escape on the back of my bike, or in her case, in that old beater she calls a car.

  Just as I expected, she’s a speed demon behind the wheel without worrying about following behind me or me taking the wheel. The more I get to know about this girl, the more I realize how I alike we are in the most unusual and unexpected ways. It’s irritating and frustrating, but it’s like unwrapping a present on Christmas morning.

  When we park outside the back of the old shop, she shouts, “I am so excited to see Ian! It’s been the longest I’ve been without seeing him in years. He’s going to lose his shit when—”

  Anna’s voice trails off as she stops in her place, just outside the van’s open door. Her mouth is agape, her voice stuck in her throat. I run straight to her side, my hand planted on my pants’ pocket where I keep my gun. It takes me a moment to register what has stunned her in place, but then I see it—the shadow of a body on the ground, boots facing us. A trail of blood covers the metal door that’s been flung open. Feet from where we stand, a stained baseball bat rests in the gravel.

  Anna’s hands grab at my jacket, finding a handful of my collar. Her voice quivers as she looks up at me to ask, “Is he—Is that—?” I scan the parking lot. We’re the only ones here. The back of the lot faces a bank that’s empty as well, but cycles are as easily hid as they are seen. I have no other choice but to bring her in to see the body on the ground.

  I take the gun out of my pocket, holding it out at my neck-level. Anna spins around my arm, clinging to my back, as we begin to step closer to the broken door. I hear her whisper his name, louder with each step, but I press my finger to my lips. The worst thing we could do now is give ourselves away.

  The shop is dark, but even in the few, spotty lights, I can make out the wine-red trails of thick, fresh blood. It bounces from the door to the lounge, to a piece on the leather sofa. Whatever happened in here wasn’t clean. The man on the ground had to have put up one hell of a fight. I do my best to not draw attention to it, but Anna gasps when she sees the hand smear against the white hallway walls.

  We finally make it to the man on the floor. Anna lets go and dips down to a squat in front of his face while I continue to hold the gun at attention, circling in place. She cries out softly, “Ian! Oh my God! Ian… what the hell did they do to you?” She places a hand on his neck, and she screams out, “He’s alive! I can feel his pulse! Oh thank goodness! Mack, call an ambulance! We need to get him help!”

  “It’s not that easy, Anna,” I explain as I pull out my phone. “He’s gotta be taken in by one of our guys or the police will get involved and then the feds. We can’t let them on to us, not with the tattoo convention tomorrow and Kimmy’s restaurant opening.”

  “What the hell are you saying We just leave him to die while you call in a favor!” She stands to her feet, reaching her arms out towards my phone.

  “No, we’ll get him the help he needs. It’s just going to take longer.”

  Anna’s eyes suddenly go wide. Her mouth opens, letting out a scream like nothing I have ever heard in my entire life. Her face turns white as she swivels downwards, trying to push me out of the way. But it’s too late. There’s a crack, a pound, and a shatter all at once as a bloody baseball bat smacks into my head and pushes me down to the ground at Ian’s motionless feet.

  CHAPTER 10

  “No! Please! No!” I scream out in terror as the man continues to strike Mack with the outside of his boot. Blow after blow lands directly into his ribs, and I can actually see Mack’s body cave in with each hit.

  I don’t know what else to do. In just a handful of seconds, this man is going to realize that I am standing right here waiting for my version of this same punishment. It’s bad enough to see Ian’s body spread out on the ground like this, but to watch helplessly as Mack takes this pounding for me is beyond what I can handle. I can’t just be the damsel in distress, especially when my knight has no way of defending himself. I have to do something if I want any chance of getting out of here alive.

  Slowly, I tiptoe back towards the hallway, my hands sliding against the textured walls. The man doesn’t turn. His long brown, curly hair bobs with his motions while he chuckles to himself over his work. As I grow farther away, I’m able to make out him faintly saying to himself, “This is for what you and your daddy did to my father’s crew all those years ago…”

&nbs
p; It’s revenge, that’s all. All of this is about revenge, full stop. For me, it’s Riley coming after me for the breakup and the incidents with the cops involved. For Mack, it’s being the president of the top club in the city. Poor Ian is the only innocent one involved. I have to get to him before it is too late.

  I examine the man one more time. I make my mind slow down his movements so I can check the outline of his tight black jeans. He’s wearing a sweatshirt, but I don’t see any hints of a weapon on him either. All he has is his fists and size. That’s good enough for me. I make a mad dash towards Ian’s office, opening the door and slipping in. Panicking, I place my hands under the desk to feel the harsh scrape of the plywood along my palms. Then, I feel it—cold metal hooked on by plastic holders.

  Grabbing the small handgun, the one Ian replaced the massive shotgun for so I could protect myself in situations like this, I head back towards the scene still unfolding. Mack is up on his hands now, trying to push off. Drops of blood drip from his pale, pink lips. The man uses his leather cowboy boot to smack him again, this time against the side of his cheek. Mack falls straight down, tumbling towards Ian’s legs. I can’t wait any longer.

  “Leave him the fuck alone!” I scream with the loudest, most forceful voice I can muster. My hands shake violently as I thrust the handgun out to point directly at the man’s chest. I have no idea if I’m even close to aiming it or even holding it correctly, but it doesn’t matter when you have a trigger and a bullet loaded with no safety to hold you back.

  “Oh, c’mon now, princess,” he says, smirking, “put that damn thing down. You’ll just embarrass yourself.” He spits on the ground in the direction of Mack’s hands, and then takes two long, slow steps towards me. With hands raised he smoothly says, “Your boyfriend just wants to talk to you, but you haven’t given him any chance to explain himself.”

  “Explain himself? He sent an assassin to come kill me in my own tattoo shop. Do you think I’m dumb enough to believe that you’re just going to take me to him for a talk?” I bite my lip. It’s a method I used in school to get myself to focus. If I thought too much of Riley or why he was doing this to me, I might give in to this guy’s slick talk or let my guard down enough to let it slip.

  “Just put the gun down, little girl. You know you’re not going to shoot me. And if you do, I may just go easy on you.” No one calls me “little girl.” My blood boils inside my veins and my head feels as it’s about to explode. I can practically watch the seconds that go by with each of his footsteps closer to me. My heels fall back. One step. Two steps.

  No! Not a goddamn chance in hell I am going to let him pin me into a fucking corner. I have to unfreeze myself. I give him one last warning, shouting back, “I mean it! Don’t come any closer to me or I will kill you dead where you stand, right here and now.”

  “You’re too chicken shit to do that, little girl. You’re not even—”

  The gun goes off, and I barely even notice it. A hairpin push on the trigger, or what felt like it, sets it off. The force of the blast ricochets into my arm so that I feel as if I could fly through the air against the bullet. My eyes close. I don’t want to watch myself kill a man or see the blood splatter and stain the room. But I do listen for something, anything, to come next.

  There is a small thud. It’s so insignificant that I could probably be imagining it, but a snarl comes next. A man’s growl grows louder, building in his gut and then rising. I force myself to look at the crumpled body on the floor. He’s alive, wriggling in pain as he clutches his arm and shoulder. Red stains grow against the fabric of the sweatshirt. A part of me is relieved to see him still alive, but I know this is still dangerous.

  I place the gun back up, pointing it at his head this time. “I am going to count to ten, and if you don’t get the fuck out of this shop, I swear to God that I will shoot you again.” I pause, watching him sputter. His eyes grow large with fear as he thinks over his options. “One! Two! THREE!” Before I can even get to four, he forces himself up and walks backwards towards the door, stepping over Ian’s shoes. I march out with him, making sure he gets on his bike and actually drives away.

  The man doesn’t look back at me. I’m sure it isn’t just the gun in my hands or the fact that I actually shot him. He knows that there is no good option now. Coming back to his headquarters without me must mean he’s got a lot of pain in store besides that shattered arm and the loss of blood. I can’t imagine what Riley has in mind for a punishment. I hate myself for feeling any pity towards him, especially after what he did to Mack and Ian.

  Mack and Ian! My thoughts collect themselves like a dam powering on. I drop the gun at the doorstep, letting it fall with a hard bang on the tile. On my hands and knees, I crawl gently towards Ian first. Like Mack said, he’s breathing, but it’s so faint that it’s only a slight whisper of air on my cheek. His pulse is equally weak. He doesn’t have much time. While I have zero clue what the man did to him, I can tell from his bruises and how his neck is curved down towards his chest that moving him, even touching him, could be deadly. He’s going to need help, but I can’t provide this kind of care.

  “Anna?” Mack’s curled up body begins to move a bit. He rolls over tenderly, his bloody hand reaching for the plump purple and red bruises along his cheeks. “What the fuck just happened?” He tries to sit up, but the pain pushes him back down. I scoot over to him so that I am just hovering slightly over his forehead. He watches me with squinted eyes as I remove my sweatshirt to form a makeshift pillow.

  “Don’t move. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to call an ambulance to come get you and Ian.” I reach for the phone beside him. There’s a small drip of red blood on the black plastic case, but it managed to survive. I flip it over to see the screen all lit up. He never hung up from the phone call.

  I place the glass to my face as I say, “Hello? Is there anyone there? I need help. Mack needs help.”

  There’s a pause before a man with a slightly southern accent answers, “Who the hell is this? Where’s Mack?”

  “My name is Anna. I was with Mack when he called you for help, but he was attacked by a member of the Knights of the Dead. He’s gone now, but we need medical help now for him and my boss. Please, please come.”

  There’s another long, agonizing moment of silence. I’m guessing he doesn’t believe me. If this isn’t a member of Mack’s club, he may still be under the impression that the Knights are no longer operating. I look down desperately at Mack who is watching me with parted, crusted lips. He reaches up for the phone, and I let him take it.

  His voice seems to grow stronger as he takes over as Mack the motorcycle club God. “Joey? This is Mack. The girl is right. I was jumped by some thug from the Knights. We need help. Send the guys from Ladder 15 and have them set up a private room in Mercy General under my tab… No, we don’t need the five-oh for this. We know who did it, and we’ll take care of it on our own.”

  Mack hangs up the phone by dropping it to his side. I place my hand firmly on his wrist, massaging the muscle gently as if he were made out of the good China my mother never let us use. “Are you alright?” I choke out, wanting to break through the maddening silence of waiting. “Can I get you anything? I think there’s some ice in the office freezer. Ian always kept some there for wusses who couldn’t stand getting their tattoo…”

  My voice trails off as I look at my old boss still lying helpless on the ground. There’s nothing I can do but to be sorry I ever brought this on him. He has nothing to do with Riley or with Mack, yet he’s the one worse off than all of us. Sure, I was in hiding, but I haven’t taken hits like he has. I would do anything to trade places with him, to take away his pain.

  “Anna?” Mack interrupts my thoughts. I don’t know how long he’s been trying to get my attention or how much time has passed since I last spoke. I feel completely frozen still in time. “Anna? I’ll take that ice while we wait. Can you…” He reaches up his arm and I follow his lead. With a hard tug, he’s back to his fee
t, wobbling a bit from dizziness.

  I take his arm as I lead him back to the office, my head resting slightly on the top of his arm as I look back at Ian. He sits down in Ian’s office chair, his head slumped in his hands. “He got you pretty good,” I say, trying to make small talk. I glance over at the office clock. Only about a minute has passed since he made that phone call. How long would it take to get secret, undercover cops and medics over here?

  “Yeah. Not my finest moment. I should have known better than to let my guard down like that. It was a rookie mistake, and I’m sure going to pay for it in the morning when I wake up with a raging headache and a broken rib or two.” He tries to smile at me, but his face is a mess with knots and bulges. I grab the ice from the mini-fridges freezer compartment and hand it to him. His hand shakes slightly as he tries to lift the pack to his face.

  “Let me take over,” I say as press my hands on the leather armrests of the chair. The wheels glide it backwards towards the desk until it’s locked into place. Mack stares up at me and then down towards my chest. Even in times like this, he has to be such a… man. Still, I don’t mind. It’s not like I haven’t been in this position before. Gently, I sit myself down in his lap, careful to watch where he was hit at.