by Sam Crescent
EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2019 Sam Crescent
ISBN: 978-1-77339-952-2
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
Thank you so much to all my Skulls and Chaos Bleeds fans. You're all amazing and so supportive.
INK
The Skulls, 17
Sam Crescent
Copyright © 2019
Chapter One
Cancer.
Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.
ALL for short.
Darcy stared out of the hospital room’s window, watching as her parents listened to the good doctor on the best course of treatment. There was no time for waiting around. If they waited too long, there was a higher chance she would die. Not that there was any less of a chance. It seemed almost surreal. Like it wasn’t happening to her.
Biting her lip, she climbed off the bed, and Ink stood up. Yeah, she had to have a Skull in her hospital room at all times. She just wanted some fresh air. No matter how much her body ached, she just wanted to be outside, to be away from all of this.
This wasn’t fair.
Not even a little bit.
Especially as the Skull who was with her was none other than Ink, the very guy she’d had a crush on for some time. It was hard to be around him. She tried to avoid him at all costs, apart from when she could watch him without getting caught. She liked doing that. He always had his shirt off, and she got to see his heavily inked chest, and it certainly was a sight to behold, one she particularly loved to see.
“I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t want him to see her as weak or ill.
“You really should relax.”
“Really? I’m fine.” She was sick and tired of everyone telling her to relax, that everything was fine. If she was fucking fine then she wouldn’t be in the hospital and her mother wouldn’t be crying her eyes out as her father held her.
This wasn’t fine, not even close.
Ink shouldn’t be here. There were so many Skulls. Why did her dad have to pick him? It’s not like he knew she had this giant crush on Ink, and if he did, it sucked he’d even allow him to be near her.
Not that she minded.
Most days when Ink took care of her, she didn’t mind, but this was different. Her hair was a mess. She felt sick to her stomach, and the last time she looked in the mirror, a ghost was staring right back at her.
“You’re not fine, Darcy, and you know it,” Ink said. He held her elbow in his hand, and it irritated her that he’d do this now. She would have remembered every single time he touched her, but instead, it had to be now, while she was in the hospital, sick and not just any sickness either.
The C-word.
The dreaded word that always caused the smile from people’s faces to drop. This was her. She’d suck the energy and the love out of the room.
“I don’t want to get back into bed,” she said. Tears were so close, but she held them at bay. There’s no way she’d allow him to see her cry. The pity in his gaze was too much.
“You need to rest and relax, and let us all take care of you.”
She shook her head.
“Come on, Darcy. Don’t do this.”
“I don’t want to be sick,” she said. “I’m not sick. I feel fine. They’ve got those stupid tests all mixed up and wrong. It happens all the time. Someone makes a mistake, and that’s what has happened with me. They made a mistake.” Even as she said the words, she knew it was all lies.
The tiredness, the achiness. A small bump and she bruised so easily.
It was all part of it, and she hated it, hated it all. Knowing the doctors were right.
Ink didn’t let go of her arm even as she wanted to collapse on the floor.
She pressed her hands to her face and took several deep breaths. She felt like she was drowning. Everyone was constantly giving percentages and statistics, as if that would help. She didn’t need numbers flashed before her.
This wasn’t some math equation she had to work out. This was real life, her life.
She was sick, and even though the percentage of survival and full cure were high for her age group, fifteen, there was still a small chance she may not make it.
Dead at a young age.
Being one of The Skulls’ members’ daughters, Darcy had grown up around death. She’d heard how people talked about death and how some died way too young. What about her? She was young, so young.
She’d never left Fort Wills for longer than to go and see the Chaos Bleeds crew. Her entire life had been about growing up, school, being part of the club.
At fifteen she’d never even been kissed.
She could die a virgin.
Die without ever telling Ink how she felt, or being old enough for him to consider her feelings for him as more than a stupid crush.
Pulling out of his hold, she gave him her back, gripping the edge of the bed.
“Darcy?”
“You don’t have to stay here. I’m fine. I can deal with this myself.” She just couldn’t handle Ink being this close, especially now.
Even though she wanted him out of her room, he still helped her back into the bed.
“You need to keep your strength up and be ready to fight. Remember that. You’re a fucking fighter. You don’t quit.”
“Are you done?” she asked, settling against the cushions, hating herself for how petulant she was being.
This was unfair. She hated it. Hated everything.
“Look at me, Darcy. You’re going to beat this. You hear me? You’re going to beat this.”
The tears wouldn’t stop. They wouldn’t back down, and she felt sick to her stomach.
“Really? You’re going to be the one to guarantee it? Not even a doctor would do that.” She shook her head. “Please, just leave me alone.”
Ink hesitated for a split second, but he stepped away from her bed. She turned her head, looking toward the window. The sun was shining through, and more than anything, she wished she was outside. Ink didn’t leave though. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him still sitting, watching her. Every now and then he’d grab his cell phone and click away at the screen, but he didn’t pay her any attention.
She knew he was taking care of her though.
He wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen to her. She knew from her years of being with The Skulls, it wouldn’t happen.
Lying back on the bed, she closed her eyes, wishing for something, anything to happen. Staying in bed all day was starting to wear on her last nerve.
“You know you’re a strong girl, Darcy.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, wishing he wasn’t talking even as his voice made her feel so many different things.
“I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“It’s not going to change the fact you’ve got cancer. The doctor will come up with a treatment plan. You’ll get better.”
She sat up in bed, glaring at him. “How can you be so sure about something like this? It’s cancer, Ink. It’s not the flu or a bad case of the sniffles.”
“The survival rate is impeccable.”
“But there’s still a chance I could die,” she said. “No o
ne seems to grasp that.”
“Are you just going to give up? You’re not going to fight?”
“It wouldn’t be giving up if I just didn’t take treatment. I could live my life. Make some new experiences.”
“You’re fifteen years old, Darcy. There’s no chance of that ever happening.”
She swiped at the tears that fell down her face, angry she was even allowing this to get to her. This was her life as well, and no matter what they fucking did, she wasn’t going to allow anyone to tell her what to do. “I can do whatever the hell I want.”
“Yeah, then try doing that without passing out. You’re exhausted. You’re ill If you don’t go for treatment, you’re going to die. Stop being so fucking stubborn about this, and be the fighter Blaine and Emily raised. You’re not a quitter. Stop behaving like one.”
The door opened as Blaine and Emily entered. Her parents. They were both pale, but she saw the hope in their eyes. They believed there would be a happily ever after. She didn’t believe in fairy tales.
“So, we’ve spoken with the doctor, and we’re in agreement. You’re to start treatment right away,” Blaine said.
“I’m going to stay with you,” Emily said. “Blaine’s going to grab you some stuff, and well, you’re always going to have company. You’re not going to be alone.”
She looked at her parents, and she knew without a doubt, no matter what she said, they were going to overrule her.
Glancing between them, she noticed Ink watching her, and he smirked.
No matter what she wanted, she was going to have to have the treatment. She was so scared of screwing up.
“Okay, so what’s first?”
****
Ink walked into The Skulls’ clubhouse and went right up to the bar, grabbing a bottle of scotch. He didn’t even bother with a glass.
“Bad day?” Steven asked.
“You know I was on Darcy duty, right?”
Steven winced, slapping him on the back. “It’ll be fine.”
He burst out laughing. “It’ll be fine?”
“You’ve got to think positively about this.”
“There’s nothing to think or to feel, for fuck’s sake. There’s a fifteen-year-old girl about to undergo treatment for cancer. There’s no way this can go any better?”
“At least she’s in a good place.”
Ignoring his friend, he downed a couple of glugs of strong scotch, relishing the instant burn as it traveled down his throat. That was the stuff. He needed to do something so he stopped thinking about that young woman sitting on the hospital bed, fucking scared for her life. She was only a child. A teenager.
There was no way in fucking hell she should be going through this shit.
He glanced around the clubhouse, hoping to find a slut to take his mind off the troubling thoughts.
Nothing. None of the women appealed to him.
“You’re angry.”
“No shit.” He ran a hand down his face in an attempt to clear the fog from his mind. He was really struggling with everything right now. Darcy was a sweet person.
“Does this have to do with the fact Darcy has a crush?”
Ink glared at Steven, not interested in the slightest to have this kind of conversation. They all knew about Steven’s relationship with Sally. Sally was Whizz and Lacey’s adopted teenage daughter, who had developed a crush on Steven. That crush had nearly sent Sally into the arms of another man until Steven realized he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
This wasn’t like that. Darcy was a teenager. A sick one.
“Don’t, man.”
“What? Darcy is not going to stay young forever. You’ve got to see that.”
He wanted Darcy to grow up because she had a right to grow up, not for anything else.
“I’m done with this shit.” He grabbed his bottle and headed out, avoiding the small play area. He didn’t want to see any kids playing or be responsible for anything.
Finding a nice, quiet area to sit and just enjoy his drink, he sat down on the hard ground, leaning against the brickwork.
Pulling out his pack of smokes, he knew he needed to quit, but he’d only used them as a treat for himself. Lighting up, he took a long drag on the nicotine before blowing it out into a cloud in front of his face. Next, he took a swig of his drink.
Nothing could get better than this.
“You’re going to drink yourself to passing out?” Lash asked.
Ink groaned. “Are you going to tell me you want me for something?”
“Don’t I always?”
“Please, can I just have this afternoon where I pretend to be a lowlife drunk?” Ink asked, looking at his Prez.
“You can do whatever you want.” Lash lowered himself to the ground with a groan. “You don’t want to be around the kids?”
“I don’t think the kids should be around me while I’m, you know, not the best company.” He took another swig, and feeling guilty, he quickly offered some up for Lash to take.
Lash chuckled, taking a sip.
“Will Angel be pissed at you?”
“Angel doesn’t have a pissed bone in her body. It’ll be fine. She’s worried, anyway.”
Ink stared down at the ground. “She’s too young.”
“Angel?”
“No, Darcy. Why would Angel be too young?”
“No reason.” Lash chuckled. “I guess I’m used to people telling me my relationship with Angel was doomed to fail.”
“No, it wasn’t. You guys are … everything.”
“You’re starting to sound a little romantic there, Ink.”
“No romantic. If there were two people meant for each other, it was you and Angel. It’s plain fucking logic. Tate and Murphy as well, but mostly you and Angel.”
“Are you okay?” Lash asked.
“I’ll be fine. Are you doing the whole babysitting routine here, Prez?”
Lash sighed. “Darcy is just a kid, you know. She’s smart, funny, and way too young to have to be going through this. I got to make sure my guys are ready. The Billionaire pussies will call when they need us, and we can’t all stick around with Darcy.”
“You’re going to make sure she’s protected though, right?”
“Of course. Darcy will always have someone with her. I know the hospital’s policy, but a nice healthy donation and they turn a blind eye to someone always with her. She will get the protection she needs.” Lash handed him back the bottle. “I can’t imagine what Emily and Blaine are going through right now.”
Ink nodded.
“You know Darcy’s got a huge crush on you. When you babysit her or spend time with her, try not to look so perfect,” Lash said in between chuckles.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means protect the young girl’s heart. She will go fucking crazy for you.”
“Ah,” Angel said, rounding the corner of the building. She walked toward them and Lash got to his feet, pulling his woman into his arms.
Ink watched them. He saw the blush on Angel’s cheeks. No matter how many times Lash touched her, held her, or kissed her, she never lost that stroke of innocence that always seemed to cling to her.
“I thought I’d find you here. Steven said you’d gone looking for Ink.” She turned to him. “How is she?”
“Angry. When I was with her, she wanted to avoid treatment.”
Angel gasped. “She did?”
“Yep. It won’t happen though. She’s a minor. Her parents control her course of medication.” Ink took a long drink of his scotch, noticing how Lash held his wife, the natural way they touched each other. No one was interfering with them. Their love over the years had grown stronger, and Ink had never made a comment about them before. He’d watched their relationship, and as he was getting older, he knew, deep down, he wanted something like that.
“The school has already set her work. She’ll be staying in the hospital during the course of treatment,” Lash said. “She’ll keep up to d
ate with her studies. It’ll keep her mind occupied. Michael will take her classwork to her after school.”
Michael was Alex’s son from a previous hookup, but that was a longer story, and Ink didn’t want to think about Butch.
“Are you needing me to pick Michael up?” he asked.
“You’ve already drunk a quarter bottle of scotch,” Lash said. “Your ass is grounded for the night.”
“Okay, Dad, you won’t take my pocket money from me next, will you?”
“Asshole,” Lash said.
Angel laughed. “He does act like a dad a lot, doesn’t he?”
“I doubt he plays something like that with you,” Ink said.
If it was possible, Angel’s face got even redder.
“We’ve got work do to,” Lash said. “Don’t do anything stupid, and give me your keys.”
“I won’t ride.”
“I don’t give a fuck. You know my rules, and you’ll abide by them.”
Ink groaned as he reached into his pocket, pulling out the keys Lash wanted. When he slapped them into Lash’s hand, his Prez nodded at him, and they both turned to leave. Ink stayed where he was, with his scotch and cigarettes.
He heard the kids laughing in the distance, and he rested his head back against the wall. His temples were throbbing, and he knew it was because of the stress.
He loved The Skulls so damn much. They were all a family, and he’d prospected here for a long time before finally getting his leather cut and patch. When he did, he’d been so damn proud, so happy. Never had he belonged to anything quite so powerful, at least not to him. He didn’t mind the shit they had to go through. The battles, the fear, the risks. He’d die for each and every single member of the club, and he’d do it with a smile on his face, especially if he knew it would protect them.
They were his only family.
Time ticked by and he heard the call for food, but he didn’t get up. The sun began to set, and he opened his eyes as darkness slowly descended.
Movement to his left drew his attention, and he saw Michael, the little shit that was Alex’s kid, with some weed.
