Hell's Ink

by Nicole Reed

  “Worth the pain, right?”

  “It didn’t hurt,” Hold said, carelessly shrugging his shoulders.

  “Liar,” she accused, laughing while applying some type of greasy lotion over the new tat.

  It was definitely a lie, but Hold wasn’t going to admit to being a pussy in front of his girl. He couldn’t control the way his mouth curved into a smile that was almost a permanent fixture when he was with her. For several minutes he watched her clean her station. Hard Ink thrived around them with everyone’s chair filled for the afternoon.

  “You comin’ over to my house tonight? I figured we can go hear Shady’s band play, then come back.”

  “You know I love your plans,” she answered, winking at him as she stripped off her sterile gloves and threw them in the trash. “They always end up with me coming to your house where we end up in bed and never go out.”

  “Plans are made to be broken,” Hold said, reaching out to wrap his hands around her waist. She didn’t resist as he pulled her to sit sideways on his lap. Shyla was careful not to lean against his new tattoo when he pressed his lips against hers.

  The sound of a phone ringing made her try to pull back to answer it. It was still her job to handle all the office duties for the shop including answering the phone to make appointments. Hold wanted just one more second before he let her go. The feel of her soft body yielding in his arms made him feel like he could do anything.

  “I have to get that,” she whispered in between his kisses, but Hold knew she wanted to prolong this moment as much as he did.

  “I’ll answer it,” Diamond said, smiling as she walked by them. “If you two keep this up, I’m goin’ to have to start chargin’ for admission. You both could light a forest fire with the sparks flying between you.”

  “Aunt D!” Shyla yelled playfully.

  “Well, it’s the truth, sugar. I swear if you bottled the pheromones comin’ off Hold here and sold it, you’d be richer than Bill Gates. Lord knows, there’d be a baby boom for sure,” she said before heading down the back hallway to the office.

  Hold had to laugh at big D’s off-color comments, not embarrassed in the least. However, Shyla’s eyes widened at the woman’s last statement. This time her face changed to a pale greenish color and she leapt off his lap.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, standing and touching her shoulder.

  She nodded and started to say something, but Badger interrupted.

  “Looks good on you, son,” the older man said, pausing from tattooing his own client to glance over at Hold’s new tattoo.

  He didn’t try to disguise the misery that passed across his features. Hold knew that Badger was thinking about Hound. Not a day went by where Hold himself didn’t think of him. So many regrets. If only he’d done something sooner to stop Ward, Hound might still be alive. But Hold knew he couldn’t dwell on it.

  “It feels right,” Hold answered, reaching for his shirt and sliding it on. Next he slid his cut on, which now had a president patch on the front. He’d answered Badger honestly. It did feel right to be surrounded and supported by family. Nothing had ever felt so completely right in his entire life.

  “Hold,” Big D called out his name.

  Her voice wavered, immediately alerting him that something wasn’t right. Not only that, but her skin was a deathly shade of white, making Hold think of that saying about seeing a ghost.

  “What is it?” he asked, rushing toward her. “Is it Mikey?” Hold’s heart sank with his first thought being something terrible had happened to his friend. Shyla’s hand clasped his as she came to stand beside him.

  Diamond shook her head no slowly back and forth. An instant relief washed over him, calming his racing heart for a brief second.

  “You need to take it in my office, Hold,” she whispered, nodding to him when he started back that way. “Alone.”

  Hold turned back to her, his fingers interlocked with Shyla’s, who followed him.

  “Alone, Shyla,” Diamond repeated, staring at her niece.

  Shyla glanced away from her aunt who nodded at her, and up at him, seeming to wait for his answer on what he wanted her to do. Without Hold having to answer her, she released his hand and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

  “I’ll be here if you need me. Okay?” she asked, again waiting for him.

  He silently nodded, before heading back to Badger’s office. On his tidy desk sat a white cordless phone. Something inside of him didn’t want to pick it up. For once his life was running smoothly and Hold was—dare he say it?—happy. He hadn’t prayed in so long, probably since he was kid. But he wanted to fall to his knees and ask God for one small favor. Don’t let whoever or whatever was on the other end of that line threaten what he was trying so hard to rebuild: his life, his club, his capacity to love.

  With a deep breath, he reached for it, placing it next to his ear.

  “This is Hold,” he answered to silence. Several seconds passed before he asked, “Hello?” A sound of someone’s breath catching was the only noise alerting Hold that he wasn’t speaking to himself. “Who is this?”

  His own breath caught directly in the center of his chest and he closed his eyes, instinctively knowing who it was. They both could never deny there was a visceral connection between them. Even now it tied them together, however many miles lay separating them.

  “Hels,” he said, not asking, but knowing it was her.

  “Hold,” she whispered, sounding too much like the girl he used to know.

  At the resonance of her voice, a pain he thought long gone began to ache in the center of his heart. He always thought if he had the chance to speak to her, it would go one of either two ways: he’d beg for her forgiveness or he’d curse her existence. But neither scenario appealed to him at the moment. Instead, he stoically sat down in Badger’s chair, not believing it was really Hels.

  “Is this a good time for you to talk?”

  Hold closed his eyes, letting the sweet sound wash over him. He didn’t know it would affect him like this. Knowing she was alive, hearing it for himself. Realizing all the sacrifices he made for her weren’t in vain.

  He tried to speak, but had to clear his throat first. “Yeah.” The hoarse sound that came out was barely audible.

  “I wanted to call and say thank you for getting that contract off of me. Luke told me everything.”

  “Even about me kickin’ his ass?” Hold asked, his mind flashing to the night he and Luke demolished his living room.

  “Well, of course, he said he kicked yours,” she answered, a tiny laugh following. “But I can’t imagine anyone looking worse than he did.”

  “Let’s just say that I was glad I wasn’t getting my picture taken anytime soon,” he honestly answered. It was easy to joke, noting that she sounded happy. Hold absently scratched at Badger’s desk as he held the phone to his ear.

  “If it makes you feel any better, Luke will have to look at reminders the rest of his life.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Wedding pictures,” she answered softly.

  Hold already knew they were married because of Luke’s comment that day. He waited for the pain to build again in his chest, but it didn’t. Her words made him pause to realize they were actually talking. Not fighting. No screaming or yelling accusations. And he was okay as long as he knew she was alive and happy. Hold thought that was what loving someone was really about—being content because they were.

  “Yeah. Luke made sure to mention it. I guess congratulations are in order,” he uttered.

  “Do you mean that?” Hels asked.

  “I do. Listen, I’m sorry about everything,” Hold said, letting out a long, deep breath. “So damn sorry.”

  She didn’t say anything, but he could hear the sound of her sniffling and a small sob escape her.

  “Hels?” he asked, not knowing what he said wrong.

  “Give me a second,” she answered between little hiccups.

  He heard a voice in the ba
ckground getting louder.

  “What did that bastard say to upset you? Give me the goddamn phone right now! Hels, I swear if he said something to hurt you, I’ll kill him.” Luke shouted in between Hels obviously trying to shush him.

  “Luke, I’m fine. Really. Give me a second. Okay?” she asked, before giving a slight cough. “Hold, are you still there?”

  “Ask him how he plans to kill me? Like does he have super Jedi tricks that will make me fall out on the floor right now?” he asked, not to be a jackass, but to try to lighten the mood—something he must have gotten from being around Shyla all the time.

  She laughed, so he knew he was on the right track. “You sound like my Holden. Only happier.”

  Her words slew him. Not because she sounded like his Hels, but because he did feel like that boy all over again, that boy with a world full of possibilities before he started to hate the life he’d been born into and the girl who had tried to make him choose. He’d been feeling that way for weeks now. And one woman had made it all possible. Shyla.

  “Yeah. I guess having someone who makes you happy will do that for you.”

  “A woman?” she asked with curiosity in her voice.

  “Diamond’s niece,” Hold answered, smiling to himself just thinking about Shyla.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Shyla.”

  “I’m happy for you, Hold. And I’m sorry too, about everything. I never wanted to hurt you,” she said.

  “This life made us do crazy things. If we’d had normal parents and lived normal lives, things might’ve been different,” he said, realizing the truth in his words. “But maybe we had to go through hell to get a piece of the heaven we both have now.”

  “I guess you don’t really sound like my Holden,” she quietly uttered. “Instead you sound like a good man.”

  “Ah…” he sighed before giving a sarcastic laugh. “We both know that’s a damn lie. I lost out on sainthood a long time ago.”

  “It’s never too late,” she whispered. “Sometimes it takes us a while to find the right path. I think you’re on it though.”

  Her words meant more than she would ever know. It didn’t make him feel any less of a monster for what he did to her. But just being able to say he was sorry made a difference in being able to live with himself.

  “Well, I guess this is goodbye,” she said, when he didn’t speak for several long seconds.

  “Goodbye, Hels,” he whispered.

  “Goodbye, Hold,” she whispered back.

  Hold clicked the end button on the phone. He stared at the wall, not seeing the pictures Badger had hanging on them, but focused instead on letting go of the girl who once ruled his world. It was a surprise even to him to find that he hadn’t. He’d held onto the hurt he’d caused her and in turn she caused him for too long. They were just kids. And he had a woman waiting who wanted him, accepting everything about who he was. She didn’t deserve to ever compete with a ghost.

  “Come in,” he answered at the sound of a soft knock on the door.

  Shyla opened it. “Are you okay?” she asked, standing in the doorway.

  He nodded, unable to stop the smile that split his face. Hold stood up and walked the small distance to where she waited. Glancing down at her, he was so very thankful for first loves. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have known what love felt like and how to recognize it again.

  “Never been better,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. Hold pulled her inside the office, shutting and locking the door behind her. Loving the sound of her laughter.

  “Do you think red curtains or blue?” Shyla asked, holding bolts of cloth up against the off-white wall of his living room.

  Well, their living room now. She’d been staying here almost every night, so Hold had made it official last week and asked her to move in. Shyla had said yes and now she was redecorating. The pair of lowriding jean shorts hiked up when she held up the cloth to compare colors, revealing the curve of her butt cheek. A white cotton top barely covered the rounded edge of her belly that had begun to clearly show.

  “Be careful,” Hold said, as he watched her reach for a stepladder.

  Shyla had no business standing on anything with their baby boy due in only three more months. She lifted her beautiful face to meet his. There was a special glow highlighting her features, something that actually warmed his heart every damn time he looked at her.

  “Marry me?” he asked, for the hundredth time.

  “Ask me again after he’s here and I don’t look as big as a house,” she said, issuing the same answer she gave him whenever he asked.

  He couldn’t stand it any longer and walked over to envelop her in his arms. She smelled so damn good. Shyla didn’t hesitate offering herself up to him. That’d been her from the beginning—always offering and never taking. He no longer could bear the thought of ever being without her.

  “I don’t care,” Hold whispered, burying his face against her shoulder. His palm automatically cradled her belly in hopes of feeling his son kick.

  “You should. Even if I did, I couldn’t get my Hell’s ink tattoo until I’m not prego.”

  “Shyla, I told you, I really don’t care if you don’t get it and I mean that,” he said, referring to the club tattoo that all the old ladies had inked down low on their abdomen.

  “I do want it because it’s part of you. It’s my choice to get it, Hold,” she said, whispering the much-needed words in his ear. “So you can wait a little while longer. Besides, Sage is already hounding me enough about her grandson and he’s not even here yet. Can you imagine if she even thought she’d get to plan a wedding?”

  Hold could hear the laughter in her voice. It made him smile against her skin and nuzzle her bare shoulder with his mouth. Shyla giggled, but didn’t pull away. A small tremor traveled his spine at the purr of her throaty voice. He wanted her twenty-four-seven. Her body fascinated him with its changes and he wasn’t the only one. Things had come a long way with his mother, especially at the first hint of a grandbaby. She hardly left Shyla alone.

  Ward still couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Hold, which was fine by him. He’d actually thought about getting a test to determine if he was his old man or not. But in the long run, Hold realized that he’d probably hate the bastard either way, so what did it matter. He operated on the outskirts of the MC and that was fine with Hold for now.

  “Hey, I meant to ask if you told Mikey the good news yet?” Shyla asked, stroking his back.

  “Nah, I still haven’t heard from him.”

  Mikey had been MIA for months. The last time he’d spoken to Hold had been a short, static-filled phone call. He explained that his cell was busted, but that he was fine. Before the call disconnected Hold could swear Mike said that he was in Siberia training. It’d left him wishing he could talk face to face with his friend. Hold had spent weeks waiting to hear back from Mikey.

  “He’ll come home when he’s ready. You’ll see,” Shyla said, pulling back to stare into his eyes.

  “What if he don’t?” he asked, voicing the question that plagued him like a bitch every damn day.

  “Then you’ll go find him,” she said, placing her hand against his cheek. “He’s family, yours and mine. And your kid needs an uncle.”

  Hold couldn’t hide the sigh that escaped him. He’d made mistakes. Every day he still continued to fight not to make the same ones he did years before. He ran Dawson’s Garage, making sure the club and its members continued to be financially secure. But not all of the business was a hundred percent legit and he didn’t know if it would ever be on the up and up.

  It was a hard lesson to learn when it came to turning the other cheek and he wasn’t sure he ever would. Some members had taken off after everything went down with losing Carrie, Hound, and Sandman. Shit got real very fast. Hold held no ill will toward them and he’d welcome them all back with open arms.

  He nodded, gazing at Shyla. “I guess I will.”

  A push from inside her bell
y alerted him that someone was listening. It was followed by two consecutive strong kicks. Hold laughed, already loving whoever it was taking up space inside the woman he’d come to love.

  “Did you feel that?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “Yeah, I think he agrees with us.”

  He leaned in and ever so gently kissed her lips and the edges curved in a smile. Everything that made her happy made him the same.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her beautiful mouth.

  He instantly saw the surprise in her eyes. He’d said it to her already, starting when he’d found out she was carrying his child, but she always acted like it was the first time. It was still hard for him to say it, not because he didn’t feel it, but because what he felt for Shyla and his brotherhood went far beyond that single four-letter word.

  Hold had found his future. It’d always been here, residing inside the four walls of the clubhouse, and in the camaraderie shared by the members who’d always believed in the patch. He’d spend his coming days ensuring that the Hell’s Highwaymen Motorcycle Club was a legacy to leave to his children. And maybe one day they’d lead it as it was meant to be… as father and son.

  This life is a journey. I continually try to make myself worthy of its blessings. So many people need to be thanked and I’m sure I’ll miss someone and for that I beg for forgiveness. To you, reader, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking this journey with me. To all of you who come out to see me and other authors at signings, it’s amazing to meet you!! I’ve met so many new friends over this last year. To the bloggers, including Lisa and the ladies with The Rock Stars of Romance… you guys ROCKED my world; Christine with Shh Mom’s Reading… thank you, lady; Denise with Flirty & Dirty… love ya always; Teresa at ReadersLive1000Lives… thank you for all of your support; Cami, and the ladies over at Crazies R Us Blog… that video was amazing; Casey with Hardcover Therapy… luv ya, sweetness; Read & Share Book Reviews; Chris’s Book Blog Emporium; Lisa, with Three Chicks and Their Books; Becky; Tina; Danielle with Short & Sassy Book Blog; Maryse; TotallyBooked, and so many more!! You guys made Beautiful Ink… BEAUTIFUL. Thank you for your amazing support!!