CONVICT’S BABY_Black Dogs MC

by Zoey Parker

  “I know, Uncle.”

  “But, you need to keep yourself out of trouble with the ladies,” Alex warned. “Don’t forget why I sent you to Colridge in the first place.”

  Max could barely recall his tryst before leaving for Colridge. Shame burned through him as he remembered. Now all his past conquests felt like awkward mistakes when compared to his time with Brittany. He could feel pairs of angry eyes watching him from around the bar. Perhaps he’d taken things too far when he left, had been too cocky.

  “You don’t need to worry about me with the ladies,” Max promised, flashing his Uncle his boldest smile.

  “You gone and got a ball and chain?” Alex raised an eyebrow.

  “What?” Max spluttered out some of his beer. “No.”

  “Because having a woman in your bed makes you a King. Having a woman in your heart makes you weak, don’t you ever forget that Max.”

  “No,” Max swallowed nervously. “I won’t forget, Uncle.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Brittany’s cheeks ached from smiling so much. Each morning she sprang up out of bed, eager to start the day. She was doing a job she absolutely adored and had a boyfriend who was truly falling for her. Just thinking about Max made her entire body break out in excited goose bumps. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a boyfriend – he was strong, loving and loyal. Not to mention insanely hot.

  Everything in Brittany’s life was going well. At the parlor, she was getting more and more clients. Lots of repeat work too, where people loved her art so much that they came back for more. To Brittany, there was no higher compliment they could pay her. To have a piece of her original artwork etched into someone’s skin was incredible. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy, at least not since her parents died. This felt like the life she’d always been destined to live.

  “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” Nancy commented with a smile as Brittany bounced in through reception, the door jangling merrily behind her. Even though it was cloudy outside for Brittany, it felt like a beautiful sunny day and nothing could cast a shadow over her happy thoughts.

  “I’m just happy,” Brittany shrugged playfully.

  “You’re just getting laid,” Nancy observed, raising an eyebrow.

  “What?” Brittany’s smile promptly fell from her face. Was it that obvious? Some of her happiness started to slip away. If Nancy found out about Max, then she might tell Zack. And so what if she did? Didn’t Brittany deserve to find happiness with someone just as her brother had done? Though she might not revel in her happiness quite as audibly as he had done. And within such close proximity.

  “I’m happy for you,” Nancy shrugged, smirking to herself. She raised a hand to tuck a loose strand of neon shaded hair behind her ear. As she did so, all the bangles she was wearing jangled towards her elbow sounding like a metallic waterfall. “Everyone deserves to be getting laid.”

  “Amen!” the male receptionist chimed in with a cheeky grin. Brittany rolled her eyes at both of them.

  “Can’t a girl just be happy for the sake of being happy?” she needed to lure them off the scent before she revealed something about her and Max. She kind of liked keeping their relationship a secret from Zack. It made everything feel more dangerous.

  “Not in my experience,” Nancy quipped with a click of her fingers. Her long nails had been painted a dense shade of black which didn’t bode well for the day ahead. Brittany had learned that Nancy was prone to painting her nails to match her mood. While sunshine yellow would reflect her current mood, if Nancy was feeling black she clearly didn’t share her colleague’s level of happiness. Had Zack failed to call her? It wouldn’t surprise Brittany. He hardly seemed like decent boyfriend material, even as his sister she could see that.

  “Well, I am happy just because. Can’t I just be happy about being alive and in the company of you fine people on a day as lovely as this?” Brittany gestured towards the leaden clouds outside.

  “Now I know she’s lying!” the receptionist pointed at her and laughed.

  “He’s right,” Nancy pursed her lips and nodded thoughtfully in agreement. “Maybe you’re not ready to tell me about lover boy just yet, but you’ll crack. They all do.”

  Brittany forced herself to smile confidently although inside she felt her resolve weakening. She was keen to crack. She wanted to boast about Max and how amazing he made her feel. She’d never known anything like this before. Just seeing his name on her phone screen made her heart beat a bit faster. When they were apart, she physically ached, and the ache didn’t lessen until she was back in his arms.

  Which reminded her that it had been two whole days since they’d last been together. Max had muttered something about work and that he’d be back soon. Forty-eight hours had passed since then. Brittany prayed that work really was just busy and it wasn’t anything else. Despite her best efforts, her happy feeling had failed to last until nine a.m. She felt dark clouds start to close in on her. The dark shade on Nancy’s nails suddenly seemed more appealing.

  “You can keep your secrets,” Nancy gave her a friendly smile as she approached her and patted her softly on the shoulder. “Keeps things more fun that way, doesn’t it?”

  Brittany didn’t open her mouth to object. She no longer had the heart. Her dream had been shattered by the fear that maybe everything wasn’t as rosy as she believed it to be. Was she a fool for believing Max? But why would he leave? Surely he was as happy as she was. But Brittany didn’t have time to dwell on such troubling thoughts. Her first client for the day had arrived bright and early, excited for the owl design she was going to have tattooed on her ankle.

  “It’s for my late Grandmother,” she explained as Brittany prepared her equipment.

  “Oh?”

  “She was always so wise,” the young woman said with a smile.

  “I see,” Brittany wiped cleaned and shaved the area of skin that she’d be working on. It was a sweet, intricate design that she’d be doing of a snowy owl sitting atop a branch, their dark eyes looking out at the world, the moonlight reflected in them.

  “This is such a great design,” the woman cooed appreciatively as Brittany applied the transfer. “I’ve been telling all my friends about it.”

  “Let’s hope you like it when we’re all finished,” Brittany gave her professional, cool smile of confident assurance. She’d learned that even when she was nervous it was in her best interest to make the client think she was always cool, calm and in control.

  “Oh, I know I’ll love it,” the girl gushed. “Your work is amazing. People have been talking about it all over town. I have no doubt that soon you’ll be so busy, you’ll won’t be able to keep up.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “What are we even supposed to do out here?” Aaron groaned as he stretched out on the bed in his small motel room. Max gave him a steely glance. He was tired of babysitting his two other club members. Now that he was back in Colridge all he wanted to do was be with Brittany, instead he was stuck keeping an eye on Aaron and Henry, making sure they didn’t get into any trouble.

  “This place blows,” Henry mouthed the words around the unlit cigar which was clenched between his teeth.

  “Well,” Max searched his mind for something, anything for them to do. They weren’t the kind of guys who could spend an afternoon at the movies. His thoughts drifted, as they so often did, to Brittany. He wasn’t about to tell them he had a girlfriend, but it wouldn’t hurt to send a bit of work her way.

  “I got some new ink while I was here.” He shrugged off the thin T-shirt he was wearing to reveal Brittany’s handiwork. Both Henry and Aaron leaned forward, their eyes wide with interest.

  “Hey, man, that’s pretty decent work,” Henry removed his cigar from his mouth to bestow the compliment, brandishing it around in one hand.

  “Yeah,” Aaron agreed, his eyes narrowed with scrutiny. “You got that done in town?”

  “Sure did,” Max pulled his T-shirt back o
n. “There’s a parlor in town with an artist named Brittany who does real nice work.”

  “Is this Brittany a nice piece of work too?” Henry chuckled to himself as he finally lit his cigar, a plume of dark smoke circling around him.

  “She’s…um…” Max nervously shoved his hands into his pockets. How could he deter the guys from Brittany without revealing they were dating? It was too risky to let them know about his relationship with her, as it put her in danger. He was about to let Brittany become collateral damage for anything that went down between the Kings and the Red Riders in Colridge while he was there.

  “She likes girls,” he said with a shrug.

  “Doesn’t put me off,” Henry grinned.

  “She’s involved with a woman at the parlor. I think her name is Nancy.”

  “Ah,” Henry’s interest seemed to wane. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket to show a grisly tattoo of a pack of wolves ripping apart a man. “I’m thinking of adding to this,” he told the other two men.

  “What would you add?” Will frowned. “An apology? That’s an awful tat, man.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Henry gave a haughty gruff. “You’re the one who has your Mama’s name on your chest.”

  “Hey,” Aaron looked wounded by his friend’s words. “She died. It’s a tribute.”

  “Still makes you a pussy,” Henry shrugged. “The only women’s names you should have inked on to you are those who fucked your brains out. Plain and simple. No other women are worth remembering.”

  Max turned away from them so that they wouldn’t see him smiling to himself. By their logic, he should have Brittany’s name boldly tattooed on himself. He was still grinning to himself when the two men got up and headed for the door to their motel room.

  “Where are you going?” Max sharply turned to face them.

  “I’m in the mood for some new ink now,” Aaron admitted as he pulled on his jacket.

  “Me too,” Henry agreed solemnly. “Plus is beats sitting around here all day. You coming?”

  Max hesitated. If he went with them they’d surely see how he was with Brittany and realize that they were a couple. No, as much as it pained him he needed to hang back at the motel, protect the secrecy of his relationship a little longer.

  “I’ll stay here in case Alex calls.”

  Both Will and Henry looked confused.

  “You know how he hates cell phones,” Max explained with a roll of his eyes.

  “Oh, yeah, man,” Henry gave him a consolation pat on the shoulder. “The old dog really can’t learn new tricks, can he?”

  “Let us know if he hits you up,” Aaron was stepping out into the gloom of the late morning. Heavy clouds hung in the sky preventing the sun from shining.

  “Will do,” Max promised as he watched his friends leave, envying them for being able to go and see Brittany, his Brittany.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Nancy entered the reception area upon hearing the gentle chime of the front door. She stopped abruptly when she stopped the two heavy set guys glancing at the designs adorning the walls. They were both over six feet tall, in oil-stained jeans and leather jackets, and the one had a red bandana around his head while the other had shaggy blonde hair that hung past his shoulders. He clenched a half-smoked cigar between his teeth, the end still lit.

  “There’s no smoking in here,” Nancy told him firmly.

  “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” the blonde dramatically removed the stub from his mouth and stepped back outside to dispose of it.

  “Is Brittany working today?” the other man asked, removing his bandana and raking a hand through his jet-black hair which was streaked with silver.

  “Brittany?” Nancy felt her heart hammer in her chest. What did they want with Brittany? She thought of Zack and his gang connections and instantly felt uneasy. “What do you want with Brittany?”

  “Hey, lady, no need to get all touchy.” The man raised his hands up, smirking to himself. “We’re just here to get inked up and heard she was good, that’s all.”

  “She’s in, yes,” Nancy gave a curt nod, trying to hide how annoyed she was that they were asking for her assistant instead of her. It was her name over the door, she was the main artist in residence. Strangers were supposed to come in and demand to have Nancy work on them, not Brittany.

  “But she won’t be able to do both of you today.” Nancy folded her arms across her chest. She was hoping she could deter the men from getting a tattoo done in her parlor in case they were interested in something gang related.

  “Could you do me?” the black-haired man asked with a cheeky grin. Nancy sighed and reminded herself to maintain professional.

  “I can fit you in for a tattoo, yes. But only if you’re ready in the next twenty minutes. I’m booked up the rest of the day.”

  The blonde-haired man came back inside, sans cigar. He clapped his hands together eagerly.

  “So, are we in business?” he asked his friend.

  “I think so,” the other man confirmed. “Though I’ll be with Nancy over here. She’s sweet-talked me into going with her.”

  “Oh, has she?” the blonde man’s eyes sparkled with menace. Nancy shuddered but remained composed.

  “So what sort of design were you guys thinking about?” she asked.

  “I want a black rose on my left shoulder,” the black-haired man stated.

  “Sounds good.” Nancy nodded.

  “They were my mother’s favorite flower,” he added softly. While Nancy smiled the other man coughed the word ‘pussy.’

  “And what about you?” Nancy crossed her arms across her chest as she addressed the blonde.

  “I’m thinking something tribal,” he grinned. “An entire sleeve.”

  “That’ll take a couple of sessions,” Nancy advised.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got the time to kill.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Brittany pulled on her gloves and tried to ignore the invasive stare from the man in the treatment room, sitting in her chair, waiting to be tattooed. He was leaned on his side, the arm she was about to work on angled towards her.

  “You been living in Colridge long?” he asked, not bothering to hide the fact that he was staring at her backside. Brittany wished she’d worn something a little less revealing than her denim hot pants and plain black T-shirt. Her hair was up in a high bun and she was wearing her favorite pair of Vans.

  “A while,” she told him vaguely. She approached his arm and studied the transfer that had been placed on it. He was having a large tribal design that went from his shoulder right down to his wrist. It would be the biggest piece that Brittany had done so far, and she was giddy just thinking about telling Max all about it. She knew he’d be excited for her. He was always really supportive of her career.

  “For a tattoo artist, your skin is pretty clear,” he commented, his eyes wandering up and down her bare legs. “Or maybe I just can’t see the ones you’ve got,” he added smugly.

  “Hold still, this will sting,” Brittany prepared the tattoo gun and lowered it towards his skin which she held taut with her other hand. She had to remind herself not to apply undue pressure, even if the guy was a sleaze.

  “Oooh,” he released a shaky breath as she commenced work on him. “Darling, usually when a woman makes me feel that much pain it’s followed by a bit of pleasure.”

  “It will be worth it when it’s done,” Brittany used her go-to line for clients in pain. She focused in on the design and got to work.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Max paced the room of the motel. He felt like a caged animal. As glad as he was to be back in Colridge, it wasn’t the same having Henry and Aaron in tow. He could only imagine what they’d been like with Brittany and Nancy. They were the kind of guys who didn’t care if they offended anyone, especially Henry. He had a reputation for being cruel with women, yet still they were drawn to his bad-boy demeanor and cavalier attitude.

  It made no sense to keep them a
ll holed up in town. His uncle had to be planning something big, like a raid on a business owned by the Riders or something of the same caliber. Max knew how those jobs went. Skulls got cracked, blood spilled. He’d seen men take such a beating that they’re never again able to eat solid food.

  When he’d first joined the Skeleton Kings, he reveled in the opportunity to unleash some of his pent-up anger. He finally felt like he was a part of something. The violence he experienced in his life no longer felt needless. But that feeling didn’t last long. The more blood that was spilled by his hand, the heavier the toll on Max became. This wasn’t who he was supposed to be. He didn’t want to grow up like his Uncle Alex, wheezing away in the corner of some dingy bar. Max had dreams. He wanted to own a big house with a yard that he could play in with his kids. And he wanted a wife. But how could he have those things when he was terrified to even admit that he had a girlfriend?