Rewriting Destiny

by Shelly Morgan

  Half way through the tattoo, he starts asking me about my life and what I’ve been up to. I keep my answers short and to the point, never getting too personal. I tell him that I moved here and met Mack on my first day, rented the apartment above the shop and started hanging out with Louie and Toby. I never mention the nightmares or how I went back and forth on whether I did the right thing leaving without saying anything to him. I don’t tell him about working out with Toby or going to the shooting range. And I especially don’t tell him about anything that happened between Louie and me.

  When I have about an hour left on his tattoo, he starts reminiscing about all the good times we had with Zeke, the parties we went to before he left for college, and all the things he missed about my grandmother. I have to take a small break after he brings her into the conversation, but I pass it off as going to the bathroom.

  When I get back to work, he is quiet for only a couple of minutes before he starts telling me how happy he is he decided to come here and that it was fate that brought us back together. That has me laughing – I agree that fate and destiny had a hand in him coming back into my life, but I think we see it differently; he thinks it’s the best thing in the world and I still think that they are stupid bitches, always trying to throw me for a loop.

  “I’ve missed that,” he whispers, so quietly I almost miss it. I stop shading and look at him. “What do you miss?” He looks at me for the longest time, and just before I can’t take it anymore, he looks away. “Your laugh. It’s the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. I dream about it sometimes…”

  What shocks me the most is how open he is about his feelings for me. This new Zane is something I have never seen. We were always close, and he never shied away from telling me how much he cared about me, but I know now that he wasn’t always being completely honest. So the fact that he is being so honest about his feelings is different – he’s different.

  I get back to the tattoo, and he’s quiet for the rest of the time. It gives me a chance to really think about what has happened, the things he has told me and where we go from here. I always thought that I would never be able to forgive him for leaving me at that party, but now that I know more of what he was dealing with…I don’t know. It has me rethinking a lot of things. Do I miss my best friend? More than anything. Do I still get butterflies when he’s around? Yes. Do I still love him? Maybe. And it’s that maybe that decides it for me. I need to at least give this a shot. I owe myself that much.

  We just need to get to know each other again before going further. I know I’m not the same person I used to be, and he doesn’t seem to be either. We need to cover that ground first before trying to see what our feelings are. He says he loves me, but after he gets to know who I am now, he may not feel that way anymore. And that’s ok, because I don’t know how I’ll feel when it’s all said and done. But I know I want him in my life. I’ve missed him.

  I finish the tattoo, clean him up and have him check it out in the mirror. It looks really good, and makes me feel like even back then I had talent, which is something that I never really believed. And I have to admit, seeing him with my mark on him does something to me. I’ve never been the jealous or possessive type, but looking at him now, wearing my ink, gives me a high like I’ve never experienced before.

  “Wow baby girl, this is fucking amazing!” he says with a huge smile on his face. I don’t correct him for calling me baby girl, because it doesn’t upset me as much as it did before. Plus, I need to get used to it if we are going to work on our friendship. “Happy to hear it. I’m actually really glad that you never got it done until now. It was really neat being able to tattoo something that I designed for this purpose years before I got into tattooing. And it’s one that is close to my heart, so thank you.” I give him a genuine smile, which seems to give him pause. I guess I haven’t really smiled around him since he’s gotten here.

  I turn around to start the clean-up. “So, um, do you want to go for a drink maybe?” I ask without turning around. If he says no I don’t want him to see the disappointment on my face. I’m not even sure why I’m asking, but it just seems right. We could sit down and have a couple drinks and catch up more. I should probably tell him that I forgive him and that I’m ready to move on from all that happened in the past. But maybe it’s not the time to mention it, while having drinks that is. What if he takes it the wrong way? Will he think that I want to be with him? Shit, maybe I should tell him we should just do lunch tomorrow. Yeah, lunch would keep it in the friend zone, right?

  “You don’t have to ask me twice baby girl. There’s a bar down the street that looks good. We could go there.” Shit, now what do I do? I can’t really take it back now that he’s agreed. Fuck. Well, I guess I’ll just have to go with it. “Ah, yeah, the um, Double Down Saloon?” I’ve never been there before. I’ve actually heard bad things about it, but if that’s where he wants to go, I guess we can go for one drink. Maybe after that we can go back to the clubhouse, or better yet, I have a bottle of Jack at home. Wait, no, that’s a bad idea. That will definitely make him think we are more than friends. Fuck, why is this so hard?

  “Yeah, that’s the one. You been there?” I shake my head and motion him over so I can cover his tattoo. He has plenty of tattoos, so I’m sure he knows the drill about aftercare.

  He puts his shirt on and we walk out front. “So, how much do I owe ya?” He pulls his wallet out and looks up at me, waiting. “Nothin’. Mack said this one is taken care of.” It’s not a total lie since Mack usually doesn’t make the brothers pay full price, but I don’t want to take his money for this one. It was something close to home for both of us and it just seems wrong to charge for it. Plus, this is my shop now so I don’t need Mack’s approval. “You sure? We don’t have to tell him I paid for it.” I laugh and grab my things. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  He hesitates for only a moment before he puts his wallet away. “I’m just going to close things down quick, then run upstairs to change. I’ll meet you there in say twenty minutes?” I moved out of the apartment and into my house a little over a year ago, but I still keep some things upstairs in case I don’t want to drive home after a long day at work. It works out perfectly tonight, since I want to shower and change before having drinks with Zane. Not that it really matters since he’s already seen me today, but it’s one thing for him to come to my job, and another for me to willingly go out with him. I want to look good.

  “I’ll just wait outside for you.” This is something we are going to have to discuss. I hate it when the guys treat me with kid gloves, like they need to watch over and protect me. I’m not as naive as I used to be, and since I’ve been working out with Toby, I think I can take care of myself. Shit, I’ve even managed to hand some of the brothers their ass a time or two. So yeah, I can handle walking down the street by myself. “Zane, one thing you are going to have to get used to is that I’m not a little girl anymore. I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I’ll meet you there.” I don’t wait for his reply, just push him out the door and lock up.

  ***

  I’m a little late, but I think it was time well spent. I re-did my hair, curled it and put it into a tight pony tail. Then I applied some dark eye shadow and eye liner, finishing it off with some mascara and my red lipstick. When I looked in my closet for something to wear, I realized I didn’t really have much to choose from like I do at home. The best I could do was put on my favorite pair of cut off jean shorts that I left here a couple weeks ago and a white tank top. At least I have my leather jacket and black combat boots with me tonight. They will turn this casual look into something more than it is. I want to look sexy, but still me, and I don’t want to look like I’m trying to impress him, because I’m not. I just want to show him who I am now.

  Locking up my apartment, I go back through the shop and lock up again and head to the Double Down Saloon.

  The first thing I notice as I walk in the door is that I’m the only woman here. Not like that’s a first
for me, but I don’t know the men here, and this crowd looks rough. I don’t mean biker rough, I mean rough in every sense of the word.

  I look around for Zane and spot him in a booth, so I head that way without stopping to get a drink first. I’ll wait to see what Zane is drinking and go from there. Plus, I don’t really want to deal with the men here. We may need to leave because they could cause trouble, and trouble is one thing I don’t need tonight while Zane and I try to pick up where we left off.

  Just as I make it to the table, he looks up from his phone, eyeing me up and down. Knowing I look good and that he noticed makes me smile, but when I see the hard look in his eyes, I’m instantly on guard. “Where the fuck have you been, and where are your fucking clothes?” Whoa buddy, what the fuck? “Ah, I took a shower and changed. Is that alright with you daddy?” I say with as much sarcasm I can muster. “And I’m not even going to validate your other question with an answer.”

  He blows out a long breath and shakes his head. “I’m sorry baby girl, I was just worried. I don’t have your number and couldn’t check to make sure you were ok. And you look too fucking sexy in those clothes to be legal, let alone in a bar with these fuckers looking at you.” I can tell that it’s going to take him a while to see that I’m perfectly able to take care of myself and that he doesn’t need to worry about me. Or maybe it’s me who will have to get used to him being back in my life and caring. But he does have a valid point; having my number would probably calm him a little bit.

  “Give me your phone,” I say, reaching my hand across the table. Without questioning me, he hands it over. Well, at least it doesn’t seem like he’s worried I would see anything incriminating on there, so that’s good.

  I program my phone number under his contacts and then send a text message to myself so I can save his number in my phonebook, then hand it back to him. “There, now maybe you won’t get your panties in a bunch.” That gets a smirk out of him and then we are back to an awkward silence. Great, this is not how I wanted tonight to go. Maybe we are just not meant to be friends anymore.

  “You want something to drink?” he asks, breaking the silence. I look up at him with a grin. “Abso-fucking-lutely. I thought you’d never ask.” This time I get a full-on laugh out of him. “Well, I’m glad to see you haven’t changed that much,” he says, as he gets up and walks over to the bar. He’s not completely right, but I’ll let him work out the details himself. He’ll find out soon enough how much I’ve changed.

  I make myself look busy by looking at my phone. I’m not really doing anything but looking at the text I sent myself from his phone, but people don’t need to know that. I just don’t want anyone to come over and try talking to me.

  Thankfully, it doesn’t take him long to return with our drinks. The one time I did look up to see if I could spot Zane, I noticed more than one set of eyes looking my way, and not in a good way.

  I take a drink as he’s sitting down, and as the alcohol hits my taste buds, I have to smile. Jack is my favorite thing to drink, and I’ve missed sitting and drinking it with him. We used to have some really good times, just him, me and our good buddy Jack Daniels.

  Twenty minutes later, his phone rings. “Yeah?” he barks into the phone, which makes me laugh because that’s how I answer my phone too. His eyes meet mine and I can tell that hearing me laugh makes him happy. It makes me happy too, because I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve really laughed. Sure, I’ve chuckled and smiled, but nothing like I do with Zane. “Yeah, she’s with me.” Knowing that he’s talking about me to whoever is on the phone makes me quiet down and pay attention. I don’t like not knowing who he’s talking to and why they are bringing me up.

  “On our way,” he says, and hangs up. Without wasting a second, he tells me what’s going on. “That was Mack, he wants us at the clubhouse.” I wonder what’s going on. “Wait, he told me earlier that he was going out of town for a couple of days. Is he back already?” I ask when I remember my conversation with Mack just this afternoon. “I don’t know what’s going on or where he was going, but he’s at the clubhouse now and wants us both there.”

  I nod my head as he starts sliding out of the booth. I do the same and follow him towards to the door, but before we make it outside, someone grabs me by the elbow. I whip around to see who the fuck put their hands on me. Whoever they are, they are going to pay. Nobody touches me without my permission.

  I look up into the cold, hard eyes of one of the guys who wouldn’t stop staring at me while Zane and I were drinking. “Get your fucking hands off me,” I tell him calmly, pulling my arm free. I turn around to follow Zane outside. He hasn’t noticed yet that I’m not right behind him. But I don’t make it even one step before the guy grabs me again, pulling me into him so my back is pushed up against him. “Where you going baby?” I struggle to move away, but he brings his arms around my chest, holding me in place. “Last chance asshole, get your fucking hands off of me.” If he doesn’t release me in three seconds, he’s going to regret ever touching me. I’m barely holding in my anger as it is as I flash back to the time when I wasn’t able to stop someone’s unwanted touch.

  “I think the bikers can survive without their whore for one night. It’s my turn for a ride,” he says in my ear, then runs his filthy tongue from my ear down to my neck.

  I’m just getting ready to teach this fuckwit a lesson when Zane comes charging in, looking frantically around the bar trying to find me. When his eyes find mine, his face goes from worried to a pure rage. I can practically feel it rolling off of him from where I’m standing. It’s fucking sexy as hell! Shit, get your head in the game Dani.

  If I don’t do something now, before Zane makes his way over to us and takes things into his own hands, I’ll miss my chance to beat this guy’s ass and I can’t let that happen. I need to do this.

  I slam my boot down onto his foot, which causes him to loosen his hold on me enough to get out of his grasp. I throw my elbow into his nose, spin around to kick him in the nuts, and then grab him by his head to deliver a knee in the gut. That should teach him not to call me a whore and put his hands on me again.

  I look down at him sprawled out on the floor and decide he needs a little more incentive, so I kick him one more time. Leaning down, I make sure he looks me in my eyes before I speak. “If you ever even think about touching me again, you’re a fucking dead man. You hear me, you piece of shit, you’re fucking dead,” I tell him in a calm, but firm voice. Then I spit in his face and turn around to face a stunned Zane.

  “Let’s get the fuck outta this shithole.” Walking past him, I head straight for my truck. Thank fuck we are going to the clubhouse, because I need another drink or maybe even the whole bottle after dealing with that asshole.

  Zane doesn’t say anything as he follows me outside and watches me get into my truck, then rushes over to his bike that’s parked on the other side of the street. I don’t even wait for him, I just turn onto the road and head towards the clubhouse. I just want to get there and get myself a drink. I don’t want to think about what could have happened had it not been for Toby teaching me self-defense, and I absolutely don’t want to give my brain time to go back to the night I didn’t know how to take care of myself.

  I pull into the parking lot and see Zane come barreling in right behind me with a scowl on his face. Guess he doesn’t like being left behind. He can get over it though, because I don’t wait for anyone. As I head inside, I hear him calling my name to stop, but I just keep going. My only objective is to get to the bar.

  Mack looks over when I walk in, sees the look on my face and immediately walks over to Zane. I should go over there to make sure Mack doesn’t think the reason I’m so pissed off is because of Zane, but I figure he can handle himself.

  “Give me a triple shot of Jack,” I yell down to the prospect who’s behind the bar. It doesn’t take long till I feel two people standing behind me. I know its Mack and Zane, but I wait until I’ve downed my first shot and demand another be
fore I turn to face them. Then I turn around and look up at both of them, waiting for the questions and the lecture, because I know both are coming my way.

  “You wanna explain what the fuck that was back there baby girl?” Zane asks with his hands crossed over his chest. I look to Mack and see him in the same position and with the same look of irritation. “What the fuck did it look like? The guy put his hands on me and called me a club whore, so I taught him a lesson,” I tell them in the same tone of voice I would use to tell you about the weather. They don’t say anything, they just look at me like I’ve lost my mind. Since they aren’t saying anything, I turn back to the bar and see I have a new shot in front of me. Cheers to the fucking prospect.

  I don’t hear either of them speaking, so after a couple of minutes of silence I turn around to see if they need anything else. I have drinking to get back to.

  They are looking at each other with looks of awe, mixed with anger and irritation. Well, they can go fuck themselves. I don’t need to explain my actions to anyone. They should just be happy I didn’t have my gun or knife with me, or they would have had a big mess to clean up.

  I down my next shot and yell to the prospect to just leave the bottle with me. It’s going to be one of those nights. I’m going to regret it tomorrow, but right now, this is the only thing I want; just me and my bottle of Jack.

  I wake up the next morning with a pounding headache and way too warm under the heavy covers. It feels like someone has thrown every blanket within a ten mile radius over me.

  Opening my eyes, I realized that I’m not at home. But before I completely freak out, I notice a picture of my grandmother on the nightstand, just like at my apartment. Why would I be at my apartment instead of my house?

  When I go to throw the covers off so I can get out of bed to cool off and grab some Tylenol, my hand brushes against flesh. What the fuck? I turn my head to see who’s behind me and come face to face with a sleeping Zane.