by A. J. Downey
Epilogue
Galahad
The first week of the night watch was rough on both of us. Figaro had bent the rules and let us ride together, with me as Charity’s training officer. She’d had the creds to do it with her nursing degree, but she still needed to pass the certs; which she did, the day before work, with flying fucking colors. My girl was smart as hell.
We’d just gotten our first paychecks and were a couple of weeks into the job and happy when she stopped me in the hall coming out of the bathroom with a hand on my chest.
“What I do?” I asked.
“It’s not what you did; it’s what I’m going to do. I have a rule; when you first start a new job, you have to buy something for yourself with part of your first paycheck.”
“I’m listening,” I said.
“I want a tattoo and I want you to take me to the best shop you know around here,” she said.
“That’d be ‘No Regrets’ on the boulevard,” I said without missing a beat, “That’s where all the guys get their ink done, but what are you going to get and where?” I asked.
She pulled out my EKG strip and held it up, “I’m getting your heartbeat, and I’m getting it right here,” she said, drawing a line with her finger from wrist to elbow along the outside edge of her left arm.
I blinked, “You serious?”
She smiled impishly, “As a heart attack, Baby.”
I thought about it, “Then I want to get yours done, too.”
“I actually had a better idea,” she said softly, and went and got into the bottom drawer of the dresser. I stood in the doorway to our room and watched her extract a book.
“I saved these for you,” she said, “And I thought you might want to get Katy and Corrine’s around your forearm, like this…” she pulled both of their EKG strips out and lined them up, bottom to bottom, wrapping them around my forearm above my wrist. I did some quick mental calculation and nodded.
“I actually really like this idea, with some adjustments,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” let’s go.
We rode into town and down to No Regrets and as soon as I walked through the door we were greeted by Alex, the shop’s owner.
“Howdy folks, what can I do for you?” he asked.
Charity bounced to the counter excitedly and showed Alex what she wanted done. Alex talked with her and asked, “What if I ended the line with a little heart, like yeah?” he said, tracing my EKG line onto a piece of tracing paper and embellishing a tiny little heart at the end. “Fill it in red, you know, add a tiny splash of color?”
“I really like that!” Charity agreed, “Dom, what do you think?” she asked.
“I think, are you really sure you want to do this?”
“Absolutely!” She nodded emphatically.
“Then I think it’ll be great, Baby.”
“Shouldn’t take me longer than ten minutes, let’s say forty bucks? Most of that is the cost of materials,” he said and Charity nodded.
“Sounds good,” she said.
“Alright then, fill these out, and let me get a copy of your ID.”
She handed over her license and Alex turned to me, “What about you, bro?”
I detailed what I wanted and he nodded along, “Pink and purple, huh?” he asked.
“Lavender, but yeah, on the right here, and where the lines flatten out I want ‘Katy’ on the pink line, with the dates…” Charity kept looking at me, and I smiled, Alex nodding and drawing out what I asked.
“And you want this on the left arm, like hers?” he asked.
“No, I want it on the right, on my left arm,” I dug out Charity’s EKG readout from my wallet, “This one and I want ‘Charity-Forever.’” She stilled and watched me, and Alex asked me what color I wanted that line to be. I answered, “Blue, like my lady’s eyes.”
I pulled her into my arms and we kissed, and I sighed, a happy man. Charity. Forever. It sounded like a plan to me.
The End
ANNOUNCING THE RETURN OF
Melody Beswick thought she was bringing herself and her thirteen month old son home to his father. It was her last ditch effort to make a better life for her and her boy. One in which Noah had a father to look up to and guide him. While she knew Grinder wasn’t perfect, she believed in him, and love always found a way, right?
Melody never thought her dreams for herself and her son could twist into such nightmares, and that it was so true, the old adage, that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. She’s about to find out that another adage is true, that sometimes it’s better the devil you know when instead of finding Grinder, it’s his cold and critical brother Archer at the end of her long drive that she must contend with.
With no other options, and no place else to go, Melody is about to make a deal with this devil that she can’t refuse. Who knew it could, quite possibly, be the best decision she’s ever made?
THE SACRED BROTHERHOOD #1:
BROTHER TO BROTHER
Other books by A.J. Downey
The Sacred Hearts MC
1. Shattered & Scarred
2. Broken & Burned
3. Cracked & Crushed
3.5. Masked & Miserable (a novella)
4. Tattered & Torn
5. Fractured & Formidable
6. Damaged & Dangerous
Get Biker Chicks on Amazon here
Paranormal Romance
I Am The Alpha (with Ryan Kells)
Omega’s Run (with Ryan Kells)
About the Author
A.J. Downey is the internationally bestselling author of The Sacred Hearts Motorcycle Club romance series. She is a born and raised Seattle, WA Native. She finds inspiration from her surroundings, through the people she meets, and likely as a byproduct of way too much caffeine.
She has lived many places and done many things, though mostly through her own imagination… An avid reader all of her life, it’s now her turn to try and give back a little, entertaining as she has been entertained. She lives in a small house in a small neighborhood with a larger than life fiancé and one cat.
She blogs regularly at www.ajdowney.com. If you want the easy button digest, as well as a bunch of exclusive content you can’t get anywhere else, sign up for her mailing list right here.
Published 2016 by Second Circle Press
Book design by Lia Rees at Free Your Words
Cover art and Virtues logo by Cover Your Dreams
Text copyright © 2016 AJ Downey
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved
