by Erin Osborne
“Mornin’. Are you okay?” he questions me, raising his head and looking in my eyes.
“I’m okay. Are you feelin’ okay?” I ask, since he’s still rumpled from sleep with his eyes half closed.
“I’m good. Just worried about you,” he states. “After last night, you didn’t say a word to me.”
“I’m sorry. I was just upset,” I respond, knowing he deserves more than just that as a reply.
“You’ve never freaked out like that in the past. What changed?”
My body goes completely rigid, I keep my back to him as I roughly pull open a drawer on my dresser to get clothes for the day. Pulling out a pair of underwear with a matching bra with more force than necessary, I turn to face the bed. Still not looking at the man who consumes me most days.
“I told you I was gonna find out your secrets and I meant it,” Tags growls out, pulling his jeans up his legs.
Tension fills the air around us so much it seems as if there’s a third person in the room with us. I want to say something to ease it, but no words find me. I’ve never had this problem with Tags before. Tags and I have always kept our relationship full of fun, lightness, laughter, and nothing serious. I’m not sure when I started having more serious feelings for him, it’s happened though. Tags plays things close to his chest so I’m not sure what he’s feeling.
Yeah, there are times I can tell when he’s happy, upset, and definitely pissed off. He gets grumpy when he’s pissed, and his entire face shows those feelings. All emotions anyone around him can witness and know he’s feeling. When he wants someone, or something, he doesn’t make it known. It feels sometimes as if he thinks everyone around him just knows what he wants or needs.
“Look, things happened before I met you. I’m not getting into them, because I don’t want to. All you need to know is they’ve shaped me into who I am now,” I inform him, my voice high and tight as the memories flood me.
“And I want to know all that’s happened to you. If this is who you are now, then I want to know why. Why you hide behind a bottle, or don’t say what’s actually on your mind, and why you won’t let any of us in to help you get through this shit,” he responds, raising his voice.
“Why can’t you just drop it?” I plead with him.
“Because I care about you. I know I haven’t shown it or told you in so many words. I want this, us. I want to know where this can go between us,” he states, pulling his shirt on and walking over to my dresser without his boots.
“Nothing will ever come of this. My brothers won’t let it,” I say, knowing we’ve already hidden this too long from them that they won’t ever approve of us being together.
“Let me worry about this. Get dressed while I make us somethin’ for breakfast,” he says, grabbing his boots and leaving my room.
I quickly put on my bra and panties before grabbing a pair of tight, faded jeans with holes in the right places, and a longer tee-shirt. As soon as I’m dressed, I make my way in the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth before covering my eyes with dark, shadowed make-up. When I feel as good as I’m going to get, I walk to the front of the apartment to see what Tags’ is making for breakfast.
Sitting on the counter are two plates with a bagel on each. Coffee mugs sit right behind them. Tags hands me a plate and cup of coffee. Even though I don’t want to eat the food he’s made me, I will. Picking at it, I manage to eat almost every piece of food on my plate and drink my coffee before he’s ready to go. Following him out of my apartment, I lock the door behind us and follow him to my car.
Getting on his bike, his phone vibrates in his pocket. Pulling it out, a smile lights up his face. Then disappointment takes away his happiness in the blink of an eye.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him, taking the helmet from his outstretched hand and putting it on.
“Hollie is havin’ the baby. Can’t go because the order is gettin’ delivered today and we have a full schedule. I can drop you off it you want to go,” he informs me.
“Oh, um, no thanks. I don’t really know her enough to go to the hospital,” I reply, dread, anguish, and guilt filling me more than it normally does.
Nodding his head, we get on the bike and head toward the shop. Pulling in the parking lot behind the shop, I instantly realize there’s something wrong with my car. It’s sitting at an odd angle, lower than it normally does.
“The fuck?” Tags growls as he shuts his bike off.
I get off behind him and we make our way over to my car. Walking around it, every one of my tires is flat. They aren’t just flat though, they’ve been slashed. In the driver’s side front tire, a large knife is still sticking out from the rubber which used to be my wheel.
“What’s wrong, Vic?” Tags questions, putting his hands on my shoulders. “You’re as pale as a ghost and trembling. What’s bringin’ out this response in you from slashed tires?”
Shaking my head, I hand him his helmet as he holds out the keys for me to take. Once he has it, I make my way inside the shop to get my day started. After keying in the alarm code, I walk to the front so I can get the computer up and running before cleaning up the front area so we can open the doors. If at all possible, I don’t clean while we’re open because you never who’s going to walk in. It’s easier to do it before people begin to walk in and sit around the front while waiting for their artist of the day.
Tags walks inside, followed by Millie and Trevor. After greeting me, they each go to their section of the building and begin setting up for their first appointments. Each one has early clients today. I’ve already printed out their schedules and one to keep next to me if there are any walk-ins today. This way I won’t double book any of the artists like I did with Tags.
I’m putting the magazines back as Millie, Trevor, and Tags work when our supply order gets delivered. Since I don’t want to mess up, I walk over and knock on Tags’ door to ask him first. He lets me know I can sign for it and then begin putting it away. Walking back out, I sign for the delivery man and start to carry the boxes back to the storeroom. It feels as if it takes me forever, but that’s okay. It will make my day go by faster knowing I have busy work to do when I’m not needed at the front desk.
Knowing I over ordered supplies, I put half the boxes in a corner where they won’t get damaged or ruined in any way. With the rest, I put them on the table in the room to begin putting them away. Reading each label on the box, I check it off on the order sheet that came with them. After marking it off on the paper, I put it on the shelf— filling the containers where it’s needed or opening the top of the boxes where the supplies can’t be taken out.
While I’m working on putting it away, I pay attention to the front in case one of the clients walk up there to pay for their work being done. Today, I don’t even have my phone in here with me because I don’t want to know I’m getting Scott's messages. He’s still blowing my phone up, demanding I answer him. He should’ve gotten the hint I’m not going to. Hell, I’m sure he’s the reason I got my tires slashed. It’s something he’d do because he’s a petty fuck when he wants to be. I’ve learned that a time or two in the past.
See, on top of kicking me out of the house we shared and calling me names, when Scott put his hands on me for the first time in our relationship, I ended up with a black eye, sprained wrist, and a cut just beyond my hairline. At least no one can see if there’s a scar from the cut since my hair covers it. The doctor I saw didn’t put stitches in it, so there should be minimal scarring, if any. I’ve never seen such a look of pure rage, venom, and hatred filling someone’s face and eyes before that day. Not even my brothers or anyone else in the MC. That’s the first day I truly became scared of Scott.
Now, he’s sending all these messages. Some are degrading, calling me a stupid, selfish cunt, referring to the baby I lost, and some are outright threats. Those are just the few I’ve seen. When he’s threatened me, Scott’s said how he’s going to rape, torture, and beat me worse than he did before. If it were anyone but me
being threatened, I’d go to the club. There is no way in hell I’m going to put those women in any danger. The only reason I won’t for myself is because I don’t want my brothers or Tags to go off half-cocked and get hurt. Or worse. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to them.
Shaking my head, I clear all thoughts of Scott. I focus on the task at hand of putting the supply order away. The few times I have to go out to the front desk, I take a deep breath and look around the shop. One of these days, Scott will walk in and show himself. Right now, he’s simply playing a game with me. He wants to get in my head while trying to torment the living shit out of me because I won’t know when he’s going to strike.
Chapter Eight
Tags
VICTORIA IS THROWING herself into work today. I’m not sure if it’s because she feels guilty about messing up the order still or if this has to do with something else. Whatever her reason is, I’m not going to bitch or complain about it. She’s already gotten a lot accomplished today and didn’t fuck anything up. Maybe things are beginning to turn around for her.
Trevor, Millie, and I were all busy when it came time for lunch. Instead of waiting for one of us to leave the shop, she called in an order for delivery. The three of us were shocked as shit when the driver brought us each an order of food from the diner. Vic talked to Mable, the owner to see what our favorite foods were and told her to place the order for them. Once our food was here, I checked the company credit card statement and she didn’t use it. Victoria bought us all lunch out of her own pocket.
While she came in the shop earlier, I called Torch to let him know what’s going on with her car. Last night, I thought it was strange her car wouldn’t start, but things like that happen all the time. Her battery could have died, or something else could’ve happened to her car she wasn’t aware of. This morning, seeing her tires slashed, I’m not so sure someone hasn’t done something to her car. We don’t have cameras outside of the shop, which will be changing as soon as possible. I’m not going to risk anyone here.
Torch flipped his shit when I told him her tires with messed with. To him, it didn’t matter that he’s at the hospital or not. Pyro ended up taking over the phone call and while he’s pissed as hell, he didn’t lose it the same way Torch did. I explained what happened and he assured me they’d personally pick the car up and make sure it got to the garage so they could look it over. I’ll have to mention looking for anything else suspicious on the car too. Maybe a tracker or something just in case. My gut is telling me someone is targeting her, and she knows who it is. This isn’t some random act of violence or anything like that.
When Torch and Pyro get here, I may have to let them know my suspicions because it may be the only way to protect Victoria. She’ll hate me, but I don’t give a fuck. If anything, it will force her to share what’s going on with her. Honestly, I want Vic to want to confide in me and share her secrets with me because she wants to. Not because her brothers force her to spill her carefully guarded secrets.
I don’t necessarily have to let them know what’s been going on between us. However, I feel horrible about keeping the secret of us. Just that I believe someone is intentionally messing with her car for some reason. Let them know it’s a gut feeling I’m having, and we need to look into it. That’s why I want her entire car searched to make sure no other damage has been done to it and no one has put a tracking device or anything else in a place she wouldn’t know to look for.
Finally, my thoughts turn to Capone and Hollie. Those two have been to hell and back. I’m glad Capone finally got his head out of his ass to claim his woman. Unfortunately, I’m making worse mistakes than he ever did with her. I’ve been fucking Victoria behind everyone’s backs as if she’s my dirty little secret. That’s not how I feel about her at all. The situation, yes. Her, never in a million fucking years.
Today, they’ll be welcoming a new family member into the world. Usually I’d be right there with the rest of the club so I could wait in anticipation of the baby arriving. Instead, I’m working because of the full schedule and not wanting to leave Victoria all alone in the shop. It is not because I don’t trust her, but because she’s hasn’t been there long enough, and you never know how clients will act during some situations.
Trevor and Millie would be there with her. While they both can hold their own when it comes to customers having attitudes in the shop, I hate having to make them deal with things in my absence. Unless I’m on a run, Sunday is the only day I’m not at the shop. Somedays my hours vary, but I’m usually there for the most part. I love tattooing and bringing art alive on my client’s skin. There are just some days I want to take off and hide away from the club, clients, the shop, everyone so I can wrap my head around work, life, and every other thing in my crazy world going on.
After eating my lunch, I head into my office to get ready for the next client I have coming in. One more person is coming in before Grinder comes for his tattoo. He assured me he’ll be here since he, like most of us, hate the hospital. We’ll always be there to support whichever family member is in there though. It’s how we work; how we’ll always work.
Checking my phone, there’s still no word on Hollie or the new baby. I lay it back on the counter in front of me as I get ready for my next appointment. This way I can see any incoming message I have. Plus, Grinder is my client, so he won’t care if I stop to read a message. He’ll want to know if she’s had the baby as much as I do. Then, later on, we’ll celebrate with the members of the club. Even if Capone isn’t there to share in the moment. There will be time for that when they get home.
Placing everything out for Grinder, I head out to the main room to see what’s going on out there. It would be nice to lay eyes on Victoria to. Thank her for lunch while there’s a lull in business. Unless Grinder’s already here that is. He hasn’t been here pounding on my door, so it’s unlikely he’s here already.
Walking out, I see Victoria at the computer where she’s looking down at something in her lap. I try to keep my steps light so I can try to catch a glimpse of what she’s looking at. Unfortunately, Vic hears me just before I get to her and quickly hides her phone. She does not hide the fear in her eyes as she looks at me. Rage instantly fills me knowing someone is scaring a woman I consider mine.
“What’s wrong?” I question her, leaning up against the edge of the desk close to her.
“Oh, um, nothing. I’ll be okay,” she answers, her voice lower than normal.
Victoria is visibly shrinking in on herself right in front of me. I don’t like it at all. This is not the woman I started falling for. She’s a shell of her former self.
“I call bullshit. Somethin’ scared the fuck outta you. It’s on your phone. You know I can have your brother find out who’s been messaging you and what they’ve been sayin’, right?” I question her.
“Don’t. Just leave it. I’ll figure it out somehow,” she tells me, sitting up straighter in the chair and never once breaking eye contact.
“Not happenin’. We’re gonna have a talk real soon. You’re gonna tell me what’s goin’ on one way or another. I’d prefer not to get your brothers involved just yet, but I will if you don’t let me in,” I state, keeping our eyes locked so she can see how serious I am.
Grinder chooses that moment to walk in the shop. A grin is on his face while he looks from Victoria to me. His grin quickly disappears as he takes in the tension flowing heavy between us. I uncross my arms and push off the desk while he rounds the side to make our way into my room.
Once we’re in our room, I show him the design of the tribal dragon with roses surrounding is. I’m not sure what this tattoo means for him, it’s not my job to question him. He’s got more than enough ink on his body to know what he wants and why he wants it. I’m not going to judge him anymore than he judges me.
“Love it, man. I want it right on my side with the tail on my back,” he informs me, taking off his cut and shirt. “What’s up with you and Victoria?”
“Nothin’. She’s got some shit goin’ on. I don’t think anyone, includin’ her brothers, know what it is though. Got scared by somethin’ when I walked out there. Don’t you tell them either. She’s goin’ to soon or I’ll step in,” I demand of him, knowing he’ll keep his mouth shut.
“I got you. There’s more to the story than that. I’ll let it ride. For now,” he states, laying down on the chair so I can get to work on him.
“Gonna do the outline today. Maybe more dependin’ on the time. You good with that?” I ask him, getting the ink poured into the tubs for me to use.
“Yep. You got your phone out in case Hollie has the baby?”
“Right on the counter. You’ll see it easier than I will.”
Without another word, I get to work on his tattoo. Grinder lays back and lets me work while Through Glass by Stone Sour blasts through the shop. Today’s music choices are Victoria’s choices. We’ve been listening to a ton of different songs. Ones I normally wouldn’t have on. Grinder doesn’t have a problem with her song choices as he sings along with the song while I work on his side.
I’ve been bent over Grinder for almost three hours now. I’m almost completely done with the outline of his tattoo and ready for a damn break. Hell, at this point, I’m ready to head home for the night. Well, to the clubhouse. I want to get something to eat, have a drink, and relax with my brothers before heading to bed. Before I can do any of that, I’ll have to give Victoria a ride home. I don’t want her walking unless she absolutely has to. Millie and Trevor don’t need to get tangled up in whatever is going on either.
Just as I put the tattoo gun down, my phone goes off. Stripping the gloves from my hands, I pull it from the counter and unlock it. It’s a message from Raine. Hollie had the baby. A little boy named Thorn Joseph. There’s a picture attached— Hollie's looking exhausted but beautiful, holding a little baby in a blue hat and blanket. Turning my phone, I show Grinder the picture and message.
