Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“So, Tank, what’s your story?” All of these guys have stories, and I’m curious about all of them.
“Aren’t you Joaquin’s girl? Because I’m not trying to fuck a patched member’s ol’ lady.”
I laugh, but a dagger of warmth slithers through me at his assumption. “Not yet, but fingers crossed,” I assure him. “I’m not hitting on you. I’m genuinely curious.”
He stares at me for a minute as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m a shit starter or a real chick. I see his features soften, telling me he chooses to believe me. He says, “I spent some time in the Army and when I got out, I spent some time in jail. That’s how I met Dix.”
“Cool. Can I ask what you did?” My mom always says my nosiness is going to get me in trouble one day, but I prefer to think of it as curiosity.
“Nothing all that exciting. Some fucker was getting handsy with a chick who didn’t welcome his touch, and so I intervened. He fought back more than he should have, and then he barely lived to regret it.”
My eyes grow wide with shock and a little bit of excitement. “Can you teach me some moves?”
His lips curl into a lopsided grin, and one blond brow arches in question. “You’re not afraid of me?”
I laugh. “Why would I be? Are you scary?”
“Not really. I’m just used to people judging me on my looks.”
I hand him the vape pen again. “So you decided to judge them first?”
“I suppose. Bad habits are hard to break.”
I laugh. “So are good habits,” I accept the vape pen back and hold it up. “Exhibit A.”
We share a moment of companionable silence, which I hate, and nod at his arm. “Nice ink. Who did it?”
“The guy I apprenticed with did all of my ink except this one,” he points to a small star tattoo on the left side of his neck. “A chick I knew once upon a time did this one.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “Of course she did.”
“Hey, she was really fucking hot.”
Men are so easy. Sometimes it annoys me how we make them out to be so complicated. “So, you apprenticed with someone? Are you a tattoo artist now?”
“Yep. Once I’m patched in, I’ll get back to it.”
“I’d like to get more ink,” I say, thinking of the butterfly on my ankle and the hummingbird on my hip.
“You asking?”
I nod. “You offering?”
He nods and pushes off the picnic table he’s leaning against. “I’ll set up my kit in the bar.”
“Seriously?” My eyes are wide and my heart is racing. The only thing I love more than weed therapy is tattoo therapy.
“Yeah, unless you’re bullshittin’ me?”
“I’m not,” I say quickly and slide off the table with a big-ass grin. “I’m ready. Right now.”
Tank laughs and shakes his head. “Ten minutes is all I need.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting in a chair with rock music blaring from the speakers all around me while Tank inks the start of mandalas that I hope to turn into a full sleeve.
It hurts more than I remember, but dammit, it also feels good. And for a few hours, I’m not thinking about whether or not I’m going to fuck up For Goodness Cakes, what Joaquin thinks about me, or if I’ll die before lockdown ends.
For now, I’m blissful as fuck.
Gia stands in front of Tank’s tattoo setup and folds her arms. “I call next,” she says with a grin. “Since we’re not allowed to leave without an escort.”
Tank smirks. “Do you have anywhere else to get inked?”
“Naughty prospect,” she laughs. “There’s always more skin, but I want a rose on my ear, so the center of the rose is this diamond stud.”
“That sounds so cool,” I squeal, giddy from the weed and the pain, or just plain fucking giddy.
An hour later, I have plastic wrap wound around my upper arm with vibrant colors popping underneath. I feel calm and like I’m settling into this weird alternative universe of lockdown.
I know there’s danger outside the compound—real life or death danger—but inside these walls, it feels like a nonstop party.
Chapter Twelve
Joaquin
“Are we gonna let him go?” I look to Ace for answers about the asshole still sitting inside The Chamber. The guy has given us some intel, very little we didn’t already know about Nogales and his plans but enough. “He’s outlived his usefulness.”
Shades takes a step back and shoots me a wide smile. “Aw, guys, our little baby bird is all grown up,” he jokes.
“And he’s got a ruthless streak,” Coop adds with a grin of his own.
“Not ruthless, but if we don’t kill him now, then we’ll just have to do it later to make sure he doesn’t warn Nogales or worse, the law.”
I point to the guy to bring home my point. “I don’t plan on going back to prison ever again,” I say, “and letting this guy live is a good way to make sure we all end up behind bars.”