It was orange and black like flames that turned into ashes at the tips coming off the letters of the club name and the tailpipe of a motorcycle. Suddenly hesitant, she said, “You know, all of this has happened so fast, I almost wonder if it’s too good to be true. I’ve had such a hard time being taken seriously as a mechanic until now.” The words tumbled out from nowhere, as if she needed some kind of reassurance.
“A little advice. Don’t question anything, especially when it comes to Pops. Serve the purpose you came here for, keep your head down, and you’ll do great.” His words were similar to what Rob – who everyone apparently called Pops – had said, and the room fell into silence as Krishna tried to decide if the advice was supposed to be reassuring or keep her safe. Either way, the authority of his tone made it clear she needed to heed it.
“So, what do you think?” he asked, as if he meant something other than the tattoo.
Krishna tried to hold back a smile to not give herself away. Of course his little peep show had affected her. She couldn’t remember ever being so close to a man so ripped, not to mention the artwork covering his body, which had its own appeal. “It’s a little plain, don’t you think?” she teased. She couldn’t help but notice as he gave her a head-to-toe once over before he sat down again, ready to start working.
“Well, sugar, I don’t make the rules,” he sighed as he moved around toward her shoulder. She could feel his breath tickling across her skin as he asked, “Are you ready?”
Krishna was still processing the pet name he’d used and could barely breathe with his scent so close. But she managed, “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, sweet talker,” letting him know she had caught onto his antics.
He cocked his head to the side with a baffled expression, but it was instantly followed by the intense burning sensation and pressure like the very tip of a hot knife threatened to pierce her skin. All intelligence and grace were out the window. “Shit!” she breathed. “Is it going to hurt this much the whole way through? I thought it was more like getting your ears pierced. The thought of pain scares you, but you actually never feel a thing.” She clenched her teeth to keep from moving, not wanting to mess him up.
“You’re hanging in better than I thought,” he told her, concentrating on her shoulder like he was sculpting something precious. Then he popped off, “considering you’re a tattoo virgin.”
Once she got past his reference to virginity, she asked, “How do you know I’m a virgin?”
He scoffed, lifting the gun away from her skin and giving her a break. It was sweet relief, even if it was short lived. “I don’t see any others. And you don’t seem like the type for a tramp stamp.” He shrugged. “I could be wrong.” His tone was smooth and husky, and Krishna thought the guy could moonlight as a phone sex operator.
“All you can see is my arms, and you know nothing about me,” she argued, just for argument’s sake. It took her mind off the pain as he went back to work. “Haven’t you heard the expression ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’?” And as she asked that question, she realized it sounded like she was flirting.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and this time, when he drew the gun away, he switched out needles. For a new color? That’s what she assumed. When he came back down on her, it hurt slightly less, but that was like saying he wielded a butcher knife instead of a machete.
“A bit cliché,” he said absently. But then he came back stronger. “But I’ll take it as an invitation to see what’s under the cover.” There was a teasing lilt to his voice, but Krishna realized he was serious, and that brought her back down to earth.
It was time to let him know she knew what he was about in no uncertain terms. “Oh, so that’s what you were doing back here with the other two women. You were looking at the artwork they had in private places, right?” She shot him an impish grin, and he looked a bit taken aback.
She’d definitely caught him off guard. She had the feeling he was the resident player and that no one had ever called him on his shit before. They just accepted it and went on with everyday life.
He was right, she was different from the other women. She wasn’t going to fall for his games. “Aren’t you the clever one?” he quipped. “Pops must’ve known you wouldn’t distract us with that rabid bite of yours.” He let up on the needle again, and Krishna glanced over at him. His expression seemed frustrated or angry, but his eyes told a different story. For all his outward appearance of gusto, there was a whole other person inside, and she had a gut feeling it was just waiting to be discovered by someone willing to look deep enough.
But she was a little offended by his comment. “So, you’re calling me plain or unattractive and bitchy or bitter?” She knew she sounded defensive, but that was some of the worst things anyone had ever said about her.
He shook his head. “Not my meaning. But if the shoe fits…” Alex shrugged, and she realized he was trying to get a rise out of her. “You said it. I don’t know you.” He backed up. “Your tattoo’s done.” He reached for the cleansing supplies and the gauze to cover it up.
But Krishna thought of something and jerked away. “Wait. Is there any way you could add something for me, just on the side of my shoulder?”
Alex sighed, sounding exasperated, and he gave her an assessing look before shrugging. “Let me guess. A unicorn or heart or flower, right?” He sounded like he had shut down and gotten defensive.
“No, definitely not. Actually, I want a puzzle piece. I’ve wanted it for years, but I wasn’t brave enough to just go get it. Now that you marked me once, I’m not so afraid of it.”
“A puzzle piece.” He gave her a quizzical look and seemed bewildered. “Never heard that one before. And I thought I’d heard everything. What’s it mean?”
To Krishna, it sounded like he had genuine interest, but she gave him a skeptical look anyway. “Hey,” he said, holding hands up in surrender. “No offense. I’ve stuck crazier things. I’m just interested in people’s choices.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Everyone has a reason. Tragedy. Success. Wanting to be a walking work of art. This is your first, so I wonder about the motivation. Share or don’t.”
She didn’t realize until he pressed the needle back to her skin that he’d switched ink again. She winced and then sighed. It wasn’t like this was really private. In fact, she was proud of her reasoning. Answering his question didn’t equate to an intimate connection like jumping in bed with him, so why was she letting him push her buttons?
“It’s about me and my family,” she began. Alex’s eyebrows shot up with intrigue, and she continued, “I was adopted. I was born in India to very poor parents who didn’t really have access to medical care or anything else they needed for a baby. And they already had other children, so they gave me away. By the time I was a year old, the O’Sullivans were already there, working on the adoption and the papers to bring me here. I’ve never known any other parents, and I don’t really want to, but when I was younger, I had a hard time fitting in and figuring out why I didn’t look like my Irish parents. But there was something they always told me to get me through the worst of it.” She glanced at Alex, busy at work on her shoulder. The burning had become strangely numb and even soothing. That or the alcohol was doing its job. “I’m sorry, this story is probably silly and boring. Are you sure you’re still interested in why I chose a puzzle piece?” she asked with a chuckle, realizing how ridiculously sentimental she must sound.
“Keep going,” he urged. “I’ve never met anyone adopted, especially from another country.” He spoke softly and stayed focused on his work, seeming more invested in this than the club tattoo.
He’d asked for it, so she continued, “Okay. So, they always said that, from the time they’d gotten together, they fit like a puzzle, but there was a missing piece. They searched for ways to fill the gap, but nothing fit until they found me. Even if I didn’t seem to fit on the outside, when they tried to fit me into the spot, I slid right in and complete
d the puzzle. And they said I had just been a lonely piece of a puzzle, lost in the jumble, until they gave me a home, that I’d found the puzzle I belonged to with them. I know it sounds cheesy, but it worked for a scared and lonely little girl, and it’s stuck with me.” She blushed as she finished the story in a very quiet voice.
“Careful,” he said. “I’m no sap, but your story is dangerously close to making me tear up.”
She scowled. “Oh, whatever.”
“I’m serious,” he said, pulling back from the tattoo. “A lot of biological children don’t have a bond half as good with their parents. You’re right to commemorate your luck. And now, you make a little sense to me.” He gave her a warm smile, and for the first time, Krishna saw a little of the ice surrounding his heart melt, showing what he might hide underneath that hard outer shell. “All done,” he announced. “So, these need special care for a couple of days. They can get irritated, bleed color, scab up. Lots of nasty things. I’ll give you an instruction sheet.”
He was passionate about his work. That was probably the longest statement he’d made all night. She bent and twisted her neck trying to see, and she had to hold back tears as a real puzzle piece with shading that made it three-dimensional appeared before her eyes. “You’re very talented, Alex. Thank you,” she said genuinely.
“Watch it,” he warned with a wink. “I might just think you actually like me.” Krishna’s heart started to pound again, but he walked out, leaving her there as he walked out to rejoin the party.
She just sat for a minute, calming herself, and then slowly slid out of the ‘hot seat’ and headed back to the party. But when she hit the main room, Alex was nowhere to be found. She scowled. Maybe he’d left with one of the other women. Or he could have just called it a night. She knew it shouldn’t matter, but for some reason, it did.
CHAPTER FIVE
Alex pulled his shiny red Honda up the driveway and killed the engine. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see if he had any texts, particularly Pops, who would have noticed his early departure from the festivities. But he couldn’t stay; something was bugging him all of a sudden
Miraculously, he found no messages or voicemails. Maybe Pops had gotten caught up with a woman or was too drunk to pay that much attention. He could only hope so because Alex didn’t dare let the boss man think he was getting soft or feeling out of sorts. Neither Pops nor the other members would let him live it down if they knew where his head was at the moment.
He tucked the phone back in his pocket for safe keeping, hoping his absence would go unnoticed for the rest of the night. He needed the space and time to work through his thoughts in peace. He was the type of guy who found peace in his own mind, even when it ran wild with bad memories.
But distractions made it a little more difficult.
He left the bike parked and entered through the back gate, where his six year old pit bull, Grover, greeted him happily, tail wagging as he jumped up on Alex’s legs. He let the dog in the door, slid it shut, and locked it by habit before heading to the pantry where he stored Grover’s pillow and food. The pit followed eagerly, panting and smiling because he knew it was time to eat and then curl up to sleep. Alex poured food and water in his metal bowls and sidestepped quickly before Grover knocked him over or splashed water and slobber all over his boots.
Once he’d had enough money to rent a small house with a yard, a dog was the next step. Grover had joined him two days after he’d moved in, and since he was generally quiet, a dog was the best companion for him. He wasn’t a conversationalist. His talents lie elsewhere.
The house wasn’t much. It wasn’t really even bigger than an apartment. But it was practically his. He doubted the elderly couple who had retired to Florida and left it behind were ever coming back. So, he did what he wanted with the place. The neighbors weren’t nosy, either, which was perfect for his line of work.
He passed through the living room full of mismatched furniture he’d collected at dirt cheap prices into the short hallway leading into the bedroom. The silence and emptiness of it usually pleased him, but tonight, it took on a new atmosphere it hadn’t before.
Alex started stripping out of his clothes, admiring his tattoos as he frequently did. The colors popped, and every single mark on his body meant something to him, represented a moment or a motto of some kind. He was a map of his own life – past, present, and future – and it made him feel powerful in a world that had too long and too often taken his power away. He’d done most of the work himself, unless he couldn’t reach. Those had been trusted into the hands of the most talented artists he’d ever met. And there were one or two sentimental ones he’d gotten from cellmates in prison.
His life hadn’t been a cakewalk before the Ashes found him, to say the least. Most people would have moved on, never thought about it again. But he even had a tattoo for the worst part of his life because it reminded him where he came from, where he was now, and where he never wanted to be again. He believed everyone’s life was made up of individual moments, and whether good or bad, those moments shaped you into who you were.
Alex hated his past, but it had made him who he was today. And he liked who he’d become.
Now, his eyes trailed down to his left leg, where most of that wretched past was contained. The sixteen year old boy who had been so desperate for love and help but gotten none. His father was a harsh, abusive man who died at a young age and left him to be the man of the house. His mother was an ill woman, which he realized only too late, when he was older. It took a truly sick person, someone with severe mental illness, to watch her husband abuse her children and do nothing.
She became a nightmare in her own way with a number of addictions she’d chosen to share with Alex and his older siblings. But one day, she got clean. It wasn’t that easy for a teenager whose mother had turned him into an addict to quit using, but she didn’t want him in her life anymore if he couldn’t kick the habit. To her, he represented the worst part of herself, and by that time, he was the only one left in the house. His older brothers had moved on, one in jail and the other finding sobriety, a wife, and a tech job.
She’d kicked Alex out into the streets to fend for himself, where he became nothing but a worm squirming on the surface and unable to bury himself comfortably in the earth. Eventually, he’d squirmed his way into the slammer, and it wasn’t just a possession charge. The drugs made him paranoid, angry, and vengeful, which led to fighting. He’d caught serious assault charges, and the third strike was for nearly beating a man to death for picking his pockets. And all because Alex had drugs in his pocket he didn’t want taken. It was definitely his lowest point.
And there was no harsher way to get clean than being in jail. There was plenty of time to think about your next move, but it didn’t’ really set you up to make that move. Fortunately, it had been where Alex was saved. A fellow inmate taught him to do tattoos, and the Ashes found him and recruited him. In the early days, he had done mostly grunt work and a few tattoos for members. But once Pops saw how talented he was, he’d given Alex a chance to design the club tattoo. He because a celebrated member after that and started doing the more dangerous deliveries.
And he’d been good at it, one of the best at deliveries. He was also feared and respected by other club members. With his anniversary, he’d started his seventh year as a member and couldn’t afford to do anything to screw it up. The Ashes were the only family he had, and it was his only means of supporting himself financially. He didn’t have any real world skills. Without the club, he was nothing
But now, there was a new girl on the block and getting in the way.
Alex crossed the room without lifting his feet from the carpet, headed for the only decent bathroom in the house, which luckily was the master. The guest bath had been shit since he moved in, but the owners had lowered the rent for the issue. They didn’t want to come back just to fix it. Since Alex never had guests, he hadn’t bothered with it, either.
He turned the sho
wer on, cranking the heat and watching the steam while he removed the last of his clothes. He kicked his boxers to the doorway and stood bare, inhaling deeply before he stepped under the spray. Meditation had become an important tool when anxiety and anger tried to take hold. He was trying to clear his mind, but what popped up in the empty space didn’t help him find the peace he was looking for.
Instead, his brain tangled itself up in knots as it tried to figure out the new mechanic. A young woman named Krishna definitely had his attention, completely against his will. He couldn’t imagine what Pops had been thinking when he decided to hire her.
Alex had no issue with the club having a woman for a mechanic, though his opinion there likely wasn’t going to be the popular one. And he knew Pops wouldn’t have chosen her if she hadn’t proven herself. But he was aware of the fact that Krishna wasn’t the type of woman to be of any benefit to Pops, and it was unlikely they would get along forever, something made especially clear to Alex as he talked with her.
This Savage Love: A Bad Boy Romance Boxed Set Page 77
