by Zoey Parker
“I wish more people went there, so that I’d get more tips,” the woman said, her voice slightly muffled.
“You close to having enough to go to college?”
“Pretty much. The plan is to go to Ole’ Miss. That’s where my brother went.”
Brittany smiled with understanding as she finished off the tattoo. “Your brother still go there?”
“Probably. We’re not that close, haven’t spoken in like two years.”
Brittany was rubbing down the new design, the black ink as dark as tar when it was shiny and newly applied.
“Okay, we’re all done.” Brittany pushed back her swivel chair to give the woman space to get up. She moved slowly as though her limbs were stiff from lying down for so long.
“Oh, wow,” she saw the design in the full-length mirror on the other side of the small treatment room. “That looks killer.”
“Glad you like it.”
The woman took a moment to stand up and admire her new tattoo. “I love it,” she declared breathlessly. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re most welcome,” Brittany smiled warmly as she applied antibacterial ointment and bandaged the newly completed tattoo. “Good luck with college and finding your brother.”
“Thanks,” the woman wiggled back in to her vest top and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I just miss him, you know? Family is so important.”
“Yeah,” Brittany agreed with a nod. “It is.”
Chapter Sixty-Two
Max lingered in the stairwell of Brittany’s apartment. It was six o’clock, and she was due home any minute. Outside the sun was already losing some of its brightness as the day prepared to turn into night.
He heard the door at the bottom of the stairwell open, followed by quick, light footed steps. Brittany soon appeared below him, her pretty face breaking out in to a smile when she saw him.
“Hey,” she hurried up to his level. “I didn’t expect you to come around so early. The film doesn’t start for another few hours.”
Max swallowed the guilt that seemed to bubble like bile in his throat, and waited for Brittany to unlock the door to her apartment. When they stepped inside she turned and placed her palms on his chest, gazing up at him flirtatiously.
“Or did you think of something we could do before the movie?” she asked, biting her lip.
Max wanted to go with his instincts and take her there and then. He’d bend her over the couch and fuck her hard until her legs shook from delight. But for now, he had to ignore his desires. He had other things to worry about.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he clutched her hands in his but kept them pressed to his chest. He liked how it felt when she touched him. “I’m going to have to take a rain check on tonight.”
Her face crumpled, clearly hurt by the rejection, but only momentarily. She quickly recovered and smiled confidently at him.
“Okay, how come?”
Max wanted so badly to lie. To have her think he was doing something noble like saving orphans from a burning building. Instead he was going to be beating up innocent people, but she certainly didn’t need to know that level of detail.
“I’ve got to work,” he hung his head against his chest in regretful shame. “It sucks, I know. But I wanted to come and tell you in person rather than send a message.”
“Oh, well if you’ve got to work that’s fine. I understand.”
Max wondered if she’d be so sweetly understanding if she knew what his line of work actually entailed. He doubted it. And he didn’t blame her. He loathed what he did. Riding with the Kings had stopped being fun twenty bar fights ago. He felt like he was always starting trouble without good cause and being overly reactive to things for no reason. He got the feeling that his uncle just enjoyed seeing people bleed, which was why he was always keen to start shit in the pack’s name.
“You okay?” Brittany reached up and stroked his cheek. Her touch as soft and tender as velvet. Max leaned into her. He wanted to stay there in her apartment, with her, but instead he had to go out and run errands for the Kings. It was far from ideal, and the worst part was that he had no choice. If he disobeyed his uncle’s orders, all he’d do was shine the light of violence directly upon himself. And he knew that both Aaron and Henry would beat the living shit out of him if it was his uncle’s say so. Every member of the Reapers was loyal first to their leader, second to one another.
“You seem troubled,” Brittany continued, tilting her head to the left.
“It’s because I’d rather not be working,” Max replied honestly. “I’d rather just stay here with you.”
“I’d rather you just stay too,” Brittany said breathily, leaning up to kiss him on the lips. Max kissed her back. It was soft and tender at first. It reminded him of stolen kisses in the rain when he was younger, back before he knew the world could be such a savage place.
“I love you,” Brittany uttered the words with beautiful softness as their lips parted. Max wanted to bottle up those words and listen to them over and over again until he lost the ability to hear. Those three little words were the greatest thing anyone had ever said to him.
“I love you too.” He kissed her again, with more vigor. He wanted so badly to stay. But as they parted he saw the darkening of the sky. If he wasn’t back at the motel before eight he’d be in a world of trouble.
“I’m sorry but I’ve really got to go,” he told Brittany regretfully.
“It’s okay,” she smiled sadly at him. “Maybe we could do the movie tomorrow night?”
Max wanted to immediately agree but it depended on how badly he got hurt later tonight. He couldn’t very well explain busted open lips and black eyes to Brittany. What kind of job resulted in such injuries? If the night at the bar went without too much of a hitch, then yes, he could go to the movies. But he was reluctant to commit to anything until he knew and risk disappointing Brittany again.
“Have a good time at work,” she waved him off from her apartment door looking impossibly sexy. It took all of Max’s will power to walk away from her. He loved her, he wanted her, so why the hell was he now willingly walking directly into the lion’s den? Max felt resentment for his Uncle burning inside him like a forest fire as he jogged back to the motel, back to Aaron and Henry, and back to the strange loyalty that he owed the Skeleton Kings. A loyalty which had robbed him of an evening out with the woman he loved.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Zack sat slumped over the bar, nursing a cold beer between his palms. He was exhausted. He’d driven back home as dawn was breaking overhead, turning the sky a deep, blood red. He released his beer to wearily rub his eyes.
“Hey man,” he flinched as someone smacked him on the back. Jameson hauled himself on to a neighboring bar stool. He stank of liquor and his eyes were bloodshot. Zack bet his friend had been at the bar all night.
“Hey,” Zack nodded at him in greeting and then sipped on his beer.
“Missed you last night.”
“Hmm, sorry. Something came up.” Zack briefly closed his eyes and remembered gripping Nancy’s waist, remembered pressing her up against the reception counter at her tattoo parlor. A satisfied smile pulled on his lips.
“Ooh, hey!” Jameson raised his beer to him and laughed. “You got lucky! I knew it.”
Zack gave a modest shrug. Yes, he’d got lucky. But he’d also failed to enlist Nancy in helping him get Brittany out of Colridge. His sister was still dating a King, which meant that she was still in grave danger. The thought chilled him to his bone and he pushed his beer away, watching it skid across the bar. He no longer had a need for its cold contents.
“Hey, don’t waste it,” Jameson reached for the beer and drew it close to himself, grinning like a child who had just acquired a free toy.
“I’m not in the drinking mood,” Zack sighed. The only thing he was in the mood for was sleep, but the worries which gnawed at the back of his mind would prevent him from resting. He shouldn’t have left Colridge as hastily as he did
, but he didn’t dare stay to watch the sun rise. He’d heard the squeal of sirens late in the night. There was troubling brewing in the town, he could almost taste its sourness on the air.
“Was the sex that bad?” Jameson frowned at him.
“No,” Zack shook his head. “It was good. Very good.”
“But,” Jameson drew out the word, gazing expectantly at his friend.
“But it wasn’t the reason for my visit. I went to Colridge.” Saying it out loud made everything about his little trip feel riskier. He hung his head and sighed.
“This about the King?” Jameson asked.
“Yeah.”
“You managed to ride him out of town yet?”
“No.” Zack slumped with dismay. He had to keep Brittany safe, he had to keep her away from her boyfriend, Max. He was a Skeleton King. He was dangerous.
“He needs to be gone,” Jameson noted wisely. “I heard there was trouble in Colridge last night. Were you any part of it?”
Jameson looked hurt as he asked the question. If there had been any trouble involving Zack, he’d have wanted to have been a part of it.
“No,” Zack clarified. “What happened?”
“Some dive bar got turned over,” Jameson drained the last of the beer from the bottle he was holding and wiped his mouth. “No big deal, except Colridge is our territory. If anyone is starting shit there, it should be us.”
“Then who was it?” Zack feared that he already knew the answer.
“Who do you think?” Jameson scoffed. “Your sister’s boy toy, that’s who. Him and some of his cronies. They’re making a move, Zack. They’re taunting us.”
“Dammit,” Zack gripped the bar so tight that his knuckles blanched of color. “We need to stop them.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Jameson was unusually calm about it all. Normally he’d be filled with rage and eager to break some bones.
“I’m surprised you’re not already over there with a crowbar,” Zack noted.
“Ha,” Jameson grinned widely, appreciating the comment. “I wish I was, truly. But I’m holding back. We all are,” he leaned back in his chair to glance around the quiet bar. A few rugged men remained in their chairs from the night before, their eyes glazed over.
“But the Red Riders aren’t about to go charging in when your sister might get caught up in it all.”
Zack swallowed nervously. “Does everyone know?”
He felt shamed by his lack of action. And now the entire pack knew that his little sister was sleeping with the enemy. He was lucky that he hadn’t received a beating for her treachery.
“I talked,” Jameson explained without a hint of regret. “Last night, when word reached us about that bar being turned over everyone here was ready to leave and reclaim our territory. I had to hold them off, and the only way I could do that was to tell them the truth.”
“Shit,” Zack released an exasperated sigh. His name was now surely mud among the club. Tears of frustration burned behind his eyes. Why hadn’t he been stricter with Brittany? He should never have let her go and work in Colridge. This was all his fault.
“Relax,” Jameson reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “Everyone was cool about it. They understood. Bitches be so headstrong these days, it’s hard to keep them on any kind of leash.”
Zack smiled thinly, not relishing having his sister referred to as a bitch. She was a fool, yes, but no more foolish than any other young person in love. She’d just fallen for the wrong guy, it was an easy mistake to make.
“You’ve got twenty-four hours to get her out of there,” Jameson raised a fresh bottle of beer to his lips. “Or so I reckon.”
“Twenty-four hours?” Zack repeated, feeling panic rise in his chest. He’d only just been to Colridge. He couldn’t very well go back. And how was he expected to get Brittany out of there? He knew she wouldn’t listen to reason, he couldn’t very well drag her home kicking and screaming. Could he?
“Yep,” Jameson nodded. “Tonight, when the bar is buzzing again the pack is going to be like a bunch of mad dogs. Put a couple of drinks in them and they’ll be baying for blood and payback. I suggest you remove your sister from Colridge as fast as you can, unless you want her getting caught up in it all.”
“No,” Zack’s chest felt tight. “I don’t want that at all. I’ve never wanted her caught up in any of this.”
“Secrets have a way of getting found out,” Jameson mused. “You can try as much as you want to keep them hidden, but eventually they come bubbling up to the surface.”
“She won’t leave willingly.” Zack could already imagine the conversation with his sister, how she’d stubbornly defy him, calling Colridge her home.
“Tell her the truth, tell her she’s in danger,” Jameson suggested logically.
“I can’t.”
“Because then she’d know the truth about you?” Jameson arched an eyebrow.
“Exactly.”
“Better she hears the truth from you then her thug lover though.”
Zack groaned. He knew that his friend was right. It was finally time for his sister to learn the truth about him, no matter how dark it was. He just had to hope that she’d still love him once she knew. But he was certain that he wasn’t the only man in her life keeping secrets – Max was too, and for the same reasons as Zack. And now the web of lies which had been weaved around Brittany was closing in on her, threatening to strangle the life out of her.
“I need to get her out of there,” Zack slapped his hand down on the bar decisively.
“That’s the spirit,” Jameson toasted him with his bottle of beer. “And I’m coming too.”
“What?” Zack looked genuinely horrified at the suggestion.
“Relax,” Jameson slapped him on the back as he dropped down from his bar stool, nut shells crunching beneath his heavy boots. “It’s not like I’m going to hit on her or anything. Although I’m blatantly her type,” he added with a wink.
“I don’t need your help,” Zack objected curtly.
“Yes, you do,” Jameson assured him, gesturing to his face. “I can tell her the truth about that little boyfriend of hers and the kind of real danger she’s in.”
Zack was speechless. He knew that Jameson was right. While Brittany might not believe him, she couldn’t deny the physical evidence etched into Jameson’s face. He felt humbled that his friend was willing to help him. He placed a hand on Jameson’s shoulder in gratitude.
“Thanks, man.”
“Though I refuse to be responsible if she falls for this pretty face,” Jameson joked as they began walking through the bar.
“Very funny.”
It was bright outside. Both men squinted against the light as they approached their parked bikes.
“In all seriousness though, you’ve got to get her out of there,” Jameson stated as he hauled himself onto his bike. He’d been drinking solidly through the night but he was still prepared to ride, and there wasn’t a cop in the state brave enough to pull him over.
“There’s a storm brewing between the Red Riders and the Kingss. It’s been brewing for years but suddenly, it feels like it’s coming to a head. Can’t you feel the electricity in the air?”
Zack nodded. He could. Even though the sun was shining and the sky was clear, the air felt heavy with the ominous knowledge that something bad was going to happen. Something which would leave the streets of Colridge painted with blood.
“Let’s ride,” Jameson revved his bike and then roared off towards the highway, leaving a plume of exhaust smoke in his wake. Zack swiftly followed, ignoring how tired he was. All that mattered was getting Brittany out of Colridge before it was too late.
Chapter Sixty-Four
“Morning,” Nancy was grinning as she greeted Brittany. Her whole body still felt flushed from Zack’s touch. But seeing her young apprentice in the light of day reminded her of Zack’s dark warnings, and her smile slipped.
“How’s things?” she asked briskly.<
br />
“Good,” Brittany gave a light shrug. She was wearing a navy sundress and black ballet pumps. She looked beautiful in an understated way. But her bare arms and pristine skin looked out of place in the parlor.
“We need to get you inked up sometime soon,” Nancy noted, tilting her head at her. “That’s if you’re up for it?”
