Destroying the Biker (Book 8): (The Biker Series )

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Destroying the Biker (Book 8): (The Biker Series ) Page 6

by Cassie Alexandra


  “Let me show you my guy’s portfolio of dragons. He’s kick-ass at what he does. The last dragon he did was incredible.”

  “Okay.”

  She turned around and grabbed a white binder from the counter. “I’m sure if you want a small tat, he can probably do that, too. I just think with a hot body like yours, a larger one would look super sexy,” she said, raking her eyes over my outfit.

  “Uh, thanks,” I replied, wondering if she was into girls.

  As if reading my mind, Devon laughed and handed me the binder. “Relax, Candi-cane, I’m not hitting on you. I’m just telling it like it is.”

  “Thanks,” I said, amused that she’d called me Candi-cane.

  She looked up at the clock. “I’m going to ask Hollywood if he’s free. I know he’s in back.”

  My eyebrow raised. “Hollywood?”

  She smiled. “Yeah, the artist. He’s my fiancé’s cousin. You’ll love him. All the women do.”

  “Okay.” I chuckled.

  I watched as she headed toward a doorway in the back of the parlor.

  “Today’s your lucky day,” the red-headed artist said, looking over at me.

  “Oh yeah?”

  She nodded. “Double yeah. He’s a total hunk.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Assuming he was also a Gold Viper, I knew things were about to get interesting.

  Chapter 11

  Hollywood

  I WAS IN the back of the clubhouse, enjoying my first beer of the night, when Devon walked in.

  “Hey, babe,” said Brass, who was sitting across from me. “What’s up?”

  “I’m here for Hollywood,” she replied and looked at me. “You free? I have a gal in front who’d like a dragon tat. Fresh canvas.”

  I held up my beer. “Shit… I just sat down.”

  I’d been working my ass off all day, helping Phoenix, the club prez, with some roof work. Between doing that part-time and prospecting, it didn’t leave me a lot of energy to do what I really enjoyed, which was being an ink-slinger. But club business was top priority, whether I liked it or not.

  “I hear ya, but she wants a custom job and has decided on a dragon. I could do it, but you’re so much better. And… I think you’ll enjoy the job a lot more than I will,” she replied with a smirk.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Come up front and find out,” she replied, turning around.

  Devon had my attention.

  “Hey, babe,” Brass called out. “Who’s watching Wyatt?”

  Wyatt was their infant son.

  “Lily volunteered again,” she said over her shoulder before walking out.

  Lily was Phoenix’s Old Lady. He said she was getting ‘baby fever’ and kept talking about having one of their own. I think it made him nervous. Hell, the idea of having kids made most guy anxious.

  “Devon still pissed at you?” Len asked, one of the older club vets. He was pretty cool and didn’t demand much. Of course, he was always comfortably stoned.

  “Probably,” he replied.

  I stood up. “Why?”

  “She wants a big wedding and I want to elope,” he replied. “Big weddings aren’t my thing.”

  “Brother, you’d better marry her the way she wants to be married,” said Phoenix, listening in. “Take it from me, you don’t mess with a woman’s wedding plans. This isn’t like picking out a restaurant. This is something many of them have been planning on ever since they received their first Wedding Day Barbie. You don’t take that away from them and live happily-ever-after to tell about it. Especially with a woman like Devon.”

  Dom, the V.P. also agreed. “He’s right on the nuts. Make her happy, Brass. You’ll regret trying to get out of it later.”

  Brass groaned. “Fine. I guess if Tarot’s warning me, then I’m doing a big wedding.”

  We called Dom Tarot because he had some kind of freakish psychic ability. He didn’t like to call himself a clairvoyant, but that’s exactly what he was.

  I downed the rest of my beer and then went into the shop. Devon, who was seated next to a male client, looked up at me and winked. “Over there.”

  A young woman was standing by the cash register, paging through my portfolio. At first, all I saw was a cute chick with big hair and a tank top that appeared to be filled out rather nicely.

  I approached the counter. “Hey, how’s it going?”

  She looked up and smiled.

  I felt like someone knocked the wind out of me. She went from being just a pretty, young thing to being absolutely gorgeous.

  “I’m doing good,” she said. “You must be Hollywood?”

  I held out my hand. “That’s me. Nice to meet you. What was your name?”

  She shook it. “I’m Candi.”

  Fuck, she sure smelled sweet. If her big brown eyes and beautiful white smile wasn’t enough to get my blood boiling, she was also blessed with one hell of a body. Tan with long legs, a curvy ass, and the kind of tits that caused boners and fist fights.

  “I’m Hollywood,” I repeated, without thinking.

  Devon snorted loudly.

  Candi looked amused. “Yeah. You mentioned that.”

  Trying to hold onto a little dignity, I picked up the binder and asked her to follow me to my station. As we passed by Devon, I ignored the mocking smile she gave me.

  “So, let’s start from the beginning,” I said, when we were in the back of the parlor. “You’re looking for a dragon tattoo?”

  “I think so,” she replied, looking unsure enough to warrant ‘the speech’, which I used to weed out what I called “Regretters.” People who weren’t as serious about getting inked as they should be. Those were usually the ones who complained the most about the needles, the time it took for the tat, and the price. Getting a tattoo shouldn’t ever be done on a whim. The only people I wanted wearing my ink were the serious ones.

  “A tat is permanent, for the most part. It’s important to make sure you’re absolutely definite on why you’re doing it and determine if it’s something you really want to do. ” I said, sitting down on a stool. “So… why don’t you tell me what it is that really brought you in here tonight, Candi?”

  Chapter 12

  Ava

  MY STOMACH DROPPED. Had he figured it out? He looked so serious, it made me wonder.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, forcing a smile to my face.

  “You look a skittish about getting inked. If I’m going to put my time in, I want to make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons, so you won’t regret it later.”

  I relaxed. “Oh.”

  “Now, tell me why you’re considering this,” he said, staring up at me.

  I explained that I wanted to honor my brother and thought a tattoo sounded cool. “He died last year,” I explained, noticing Hollywood was wearing a Gold Vipers vest with the word “Prospect” on it. I knew it meant that he wasn’t an official club member and realized that he might not have been around when Andrew had been murdered. The thought made me a little bit more comfortable, although the other gal had been right. He was a hunk. In fact, Hollywood was a work of art himself. Tall and muscular, with blond hair buzzed on the sides and long on top, a five-o’clock shadow that was edging more into six p.m., and eyes the color of the sky on a clear day. To be perfectly honest, he was as hot-as-sin. And I say sin, because I found myself responding to his hotness, which I knew was wrong on so many levels.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his eyebrows knitting together. “That couldn’t have been easy. Were you close?”

  “We were. A long time ago,” I replied, shifting my gaze. The guy was watching me with an intensity that was unnerving.

  “Okay. So… where do you want it?”

  I turned sideways and touched the back of my right hip. “I was thinking I’d like it here. Something small with my brother’s name near it.”

  “I thought she should get one that runs all down
her side,” called out Devon.

  He tilted his head and stared at my hip. “But, you just want something small?”

  “I guess it depends on the design,” I replied, imagining him leaning over me while I was half-naked. I’d seen some of the tattoo shows on cable and knew it would take hours to complete. I also knew it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. But, it would give us time to talk about the club, and the more I knew, the better.

  He opened up the portfolio and began sifting through the pages. “Was there anything in here that caught your eye?”

  All of the artwork had been impressive, but there’d been one I’d particularly liked. I showed him. The dragon was red with blue spikes and claws. The details were incredible enough that I imagined it had taken him hours to complete.

  “So, it’s the colors you like?” he asked, still all businesslike.

  “Yes, plus I love all of the details. I’ve never seen anything like it,” I said and began pointing out the areas that really impressed me.

  Nodding, he closed the book. “Okay. Just so you’re aware, every design of mine is original, but it helps to get some ideas on your preferences. Like, the colors that attract you the most and what kind of a feel you’re going for. From what I’m gathering, you want a fierce looking dragon?”

  “Yes. Exactly.”

  He grabbed a sketch book from the counter and flipped it to a blank page. “What about colors?”

  “I like purple and blues. Maybe some green, too.”

  He nodded. “Sounds good. I actually have some ideas on where to place your brother’s name, too.”

  “Cool.”

  Hollywood looked up from the sketch book. “We just need to figure out the size.”

  I looked down, imagining a sleek, colorful dragon on my hip and thigh. It wouldn’t just signify the love I had for my brother, but what lengths I was willing to go for the people I cared about. It would be a sign of loyalty, justice, and retribution.

  But did I really want someone associated with the gang who had been responsible for my brother’s death doing the tattoo? Wouldn’t I always be reminded of them when I looked at the tat?

  I glanced up at Hollywood. He was staring at me, hopeful and handsome. I flicked my gaze down at the Gold Vipers patch on his chest, then back into his icy blue eyes. He just didn’t seem like the type… but then again, what did I know? There was no turning back now, though. This was for Andrew anyway.

  I nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  “Yeah?” he said.

  “Yes. I want it big and long.”

  Devon burst out in laughter

  “Don’t we all,” drawled Red from her station.

  Hollywood’s lip twitched.

  “Did Mr. Serious smile?” Red asked.

  “Almost,” I replied, grinning.

  This produced a grin and a head shake from him.

  “Good,” Red said. “You need to learn to smile more, Hollywood.”

  Before he could answer, the door leading to the clubhouse opened and an attractive guy with jet-black hair, and an annoyed expression on his face stepped into the parlor. He also wore a Gold Viper cut with a patch that read Sergeant at Arms.

  He was one of the higher-ups, I thought, stiffening up.

  “Uh, oh,” said Red. “Here comes trouble. What’s shakin’ Brass?”

  “The roof as soon as you kick off the party later, Gigi,” he replied with a wink.

  She smiled. “You know I will, Brassy-boy.”

  Smiling, he walked over to Devon’s station and said something to her quietly.

  She squealed in delight and stood up. “Really? You’re serious?”

  “Anything for you, Mama,” he replied.

  She threw her arms around him. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Let’s go make some more.” Devon was a big woman, but he picked her and threw her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. I suddenly realized that he meant to take her back for sex.

  “Hey! Wait, I’m not done with Jimmy’s tat!” she cried, laughing as he turned on his heel to head back to the clubhouse.

  Brass stopped and turned around. “Jimmy, you don’t mind if I borrow her for a few minutes, do you?”

  “He means seconds,” Devon said wryly.

  The man she’d been inking said, “No, man. Whatever you want, Brass. Take all the time you need.”

  “You’re a good man, Jimmy. Her hand will be a lot steadier after I’m done with her,” he replied.

  “Have a cigarette, Jimmy. I’ll be back before you put it out,” Devon said, looking up.

  Gigi laughed. “You know, they do make pills for that.”

  Brass slapped Devon hard on the ass, making her gasp. “You think you’re funny, talkin’ smack about your old man, woman? You aren’t going to be laughing when you walk back here sore from—”

  “T.M.I., Brassy-boy,” Gigi interrupted. “This woman isn’t getting any, so I don’t want to hear about something I’m missing.”

  “Len’s available,” he replied. “You know he likes you.”

  “Not as much as he likes the ganja. I’ll pass,” she replied.

  “His loss. Hey, man. Looks like it was worth it,” he said, winking at Hollywood as he carried Devon past us.

  I didn’t know what that was all about, but I had a feeling it had to do with me.

  Not responding, Hollywood looked at me. “Make yourself at home.” He nodded toward the reclining chair and then turned his back to work on the sketch.

  I sat down.

  “You want anything to drink? We have bottled water, coffee, or soda,” he said, looking over his shoulder.

  “I’m good. Thank you.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “Okay.”

  I looked around the parlor, wondering again what I was thinking. Here I was about to get a tattoo from a guy who belonged to the hoodlums who’d killed my brother. Sure, he might not have been involved with it directly, but he was tied to the killers and that made him just as dangerous.

  Reminding myself that I was doing it for Andrew, I looked down and found a magazine rack next to the chair. I leaned down and grabbed a mag about tattoos. As I started flipping through the pages, the back door opened up again, and this time a group of five menacing-looking Gold Vipers stepped into the parlor. As they walked toward the front of the parlor, a couple of them looked my way.

  “Hey there, gorgeous,” one of the men said, stopping by the station. He was thin and wiry with greasy brown hair and long sideburns. “You getting a tat?”

  I cleared my throat. “I think so.”

  “Where?” he asked, his roving eyes moving up and down my body.

  “She’s not sure yet, Len,” Hollywood said, turning around. “You guys heading to the party?”

  “Yeah,” he replied and then looked back at me. “I’ve never seen you around here before, sweet thing.”

  “It’s my first tattoo,” I said, forcing a smile to my face.

  “Nice. Fresh canvas,” he said, grinning. “Hollywood, you got yourself some virgin skin. Gotta love that.”

  “Yep,” he replied, once again concentrating on the drawing.

  “You know what they say about tattoos, once you get the first one, you’re hooked. You want to keep coming back for more,” Len said. “Kind of what the chicks say about me. What about you, beautiful? You seeing anyone?”

  I wanted to tell him ‘yes’ so badly, but I knew it would be easier to get information from these guys if they thought they had a chance with me.

  “I’m just getting over a relationship,” I replied instead.

  “On the rebound,” he said. “Well, if you need someone to take your mind off of the idiot who let a beauty like you go, I’m your man.”

  Hollywood grunted.

  “I’m doing fine, but thank you,” I replied.

  The door opened again and another Gold Viper stepped into the parlor by way of the clubhouse, which was attached to the p
arlor. I had to do a double-take as he walked by.

  “Hey, happy birthday, “Gigi said, turning in her stool to look at him.

  “Thanks, darlin’,” the man said, smiling at her. “You stoppin’ by the party later?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it, Tarot,” she replied.

  “Good. I’ll save you a seat.” The muscular, dark-haired guy looked at me curiously and I quickly turned my head. He reminded me so much of my brother, it was almost eerie.

  “You comin’, Len?” the man asked.

  “Yeah.” Len looked over at me. “Good luck with your tattoo. What was your name?”

  I almost said Ava but caught myself. “Ah, Candi.”

  “Mm…” he said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I bet you taste as sweet as your name.”

  The thought of him tasting me made my skin crawl.

  “Goodbye, Len,” Hollywood said sharply.

  Chuckling, Len winked at me and headed toward the front door.

  “Sorry about Len,” Hollywood said. “He sees a pretty face and can’t help himself.”

  “It’s okay.” No, it wasn’t. Shudder.

  I watched as the group of men left the parlor, still wondering about the man who looked like Andrew.

  Chapter 13

  Hollywood

  I WANTED HER dragon to be my best work of art to date, so I took my time with the details until I finally produced something I hoped would impress her. Unlike many other tattooists, I was usually pretty fast with my sketches. Some people took days. Some took hours. I normally finished the first draft in fifteen minutes and would then consult with the client to make any necessary changes. For Candi, I spent forty-five minutes, which was a lot more than usual, concentrating heavily on the details and shadowing. When I was finished, I held it up and her eyes widened.

  “Wow,” she said, moving closer. “It’s incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Flattered, I smiled. “Thanks. Obviously, I still need to color it. I just wanted to know if there was anything you’d like me to change?”

  “No. Nothing. I really love what you did with my brother’s name, too.”

 

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