Chapter 27

By the time I exited the bathroom, the sky had darkened to a mixture of blacks, deep grays, and purples. A full moon cast its light over the clouds, creating shadows so dimensional they seemed unreal, like a painting. I stared out the window for a moment, enjoying the view, letting myself feel the fire cascading over the skin of my shoulder. This moment, this day, this night, these people, I'd never forget, not one part of it.

My chest seemed lighter than before, almost... cleansed. The tears I'd shed left me rested, as if I'd been so full of emotions, the purge had released a weight I'd unknowingly carried with me.

The brand was gone, no longer a reminder, only a memory. I could carry the memory, I would add it to the others, buried deep in the recesses of my mind. Eventually, maybe, it wouldn't haunt me.

It was surreal to have goals, let alone to accomplish them. I was a licensed tattoo artist, with a job at a tattoo shop, a place to live, and good people who actually seemed to care about what happened to me. It was a lot to take in, unbelievable, but it was real.

For the first time in my life, I could be excited about the future. It both thrilled and terrified me. It was thrilling to be able to hope, to dream, to have something in this world to look forward to, but also terrifying to have something to lose. I couldn't let them find me. I couldn't lose this, not now.

With a deep, shuddering breath, I shook off my darker thoughts and made my way to return the gun and clean up the new piece.

Bard was still beside the Camaro when I stepped through the door. He'd brought a lawn chair over, and was sitting with a beer in his hand. It seemed he knew whatever I'd been doing was personal, that I'd needed space. I'd never appreciated his perceptiveness more.

His gaze whipped to me the moment the door swung shut, and his eyes seemed to take in everything, settling on the black band fully on display. Something in his expression made my skin tingle.

Surprisingly, when he stood and moved towards me, I didn't run to escape him. I needed him to know, to see for himself, that I wasn't one of them. His parents, all the pain caused by the club, that wasn't me.

His slow cautious steps resembled a man approaching something wild. Each foot hit the ground in a careful heel-toe movement, allowing me plenty of time to choose to walk away. When he'd closed the gap between us, he didn't speak. His grease blackened hand gently wrapped around my wrist and lifted my arm. His other touched the place just above his grip and trailed a path up to the edge of the new art. The feel of him lit fire to my skin, but it was different than the fire on my shoulder. It didn't burn. It warmed.

Each breath grew more shallow than the last as nerves tightened my chest.

"I like this," he said, each word low and smooth.

I nodded and swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. "Thank you."

Bard's eyes met mine. "Never again." He gently squeezed my wrist. There was a promise in the statement. As much as I would have loved to believe the pipe dream, it was too unrealistic. Bard couldn't protect me; no one could.

"Never again," I agreed, taking a much needed step backwards. Never again meant just that. No men, not even this one. "I've gotta go clean it up."

His eyes sharpened as I turned away, but he didn't follow or try to stop me. Still, I could feel him watching me. His gaze burned a hole into my back. I fought to reach the back door and escape those intelligent eyes. They always saw too much.

Zeke was sitting with Charlene behind the counter, and I didn't miss how close they were. Scarlett and Boe were in Boe's station, looking over something I couldn't see. There wasn't a customer in sight, the complete opposite of that afternoon.

"Thanks," I directed at Zeke, returning the gun and ink back where I'd gotten it.

Zeke turned to me, and his eyes landed on my shoulder. He didn't speak for a moment, but when his gaze met mine, I knew.

He had known. Bard had told him.

"Come on girl," he said. "Let's get that cleaned up."

I propped myself up onto his massage table and took a deep breath. Zeke silently wiped away the blood and cleansed the area, then rubbed it with ointment and wrapped it up. When he finished, he looked at me. "He told me who you're running from. I know that's why you thought I would fire you." He shook his head, eyes serious. "You're a part of this place now, girl. Nobody is going to mess with you here. I'll make sure of it."

I couldn't speak. Moisture pricked the corners of my eyes. I blinked hard and looked away before my emotions could take over.

Zeke patted my shoulder. "It's a ghost town around here. Take it easy for tonight. I'll get you started first thing in the morning."

I nodded. "Thank you, Zeke... for everything."

He stood. "Tomorrow," he said. "Shop opens at Eleven."

"I'll be ready." I smiled at him, then looked around the room. "Where's the old man?" I wanted to see him, to share this with him. For some reason, he felt like family, and he was the one person I wanted to share it with.

"He took off a bit ago," Zeke said.

My eyes widened and shot to him. "By himself?"

Zeke gave me a look. "He must be in his late sixties, girl. I can't control what he does. I offered to have someone go with him, but the suggestion was not accepted kindly."

"Where did he go?" I was up in an instant. All at once a million scenarios filtered through my mind. Those kids finding him, beating him. The old man laid out on the curb somewhere, people passing by as if he were nothing more than discarded trash. If anything happened, nobody would help, they wouldn't care.

"Hey now," Zeke said, laying a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sure he's fine."

I turned to walk away. "I have to find him."

He gripped and held me in place. "Scarlet, drive Jessie to find the old man. We'll hold it down here."

I couldn't argue. Finding him would be much easier with a car than on foot.

Scarlet seemed just as eager to leave as I was. "Thank god! I thought I'd die of boredom in this place." She grabbed her bag, then my arm as she passed, and pulled me out the door. "Mine's the Honda out front. Any idea where he might go?"

"The bridge by Main. If not there, I don't know. I've never asked. I've always assumed he just wanders."

Scarlet broke away to move to the driver's side, and I followed her lead and climbed into the passenger's seat.

The second she revved the engine, tires squealed and gravel flew. I clutched the door handle as she backed out of the driveway. Perhaps if they'd ever flipped a van multiple times, everyone around this place would slow the fuck down.

The car was a stick, but from what I could tell, Scarlet wasn't very good with it. Each time she'd switch gears, the vehicle jerked violently, and each time, it sent my seat back a little further. By the time we'd reached the bridge, the back was useless, and I was forced to grip the dash to stay upright.

"Sorry about that," she said, pulling up along the curve. "I keep asking one of the boys to fix it, but they're assholes."

I nodded in response, already climbing out. If the old man was here, he'd be hidden amongst the masses. Scarlet followed me, and when we made it down the hill and to the underpass, we each took a different direction. He wasn't in his spot, and I fought not to disturb anyone as I searched the many other faces. None of them even remotely resembled the old man, and my hope was dwindling fast.

I heaved a sigh. " Can we just drive around a bit and see if we see him?"

"Sure thing." Scarlet turned back in the direction we'd come.

We travelled the city for an hour, side streets, main streets, any and every fucking street, but still found no sign of him. We tried another bridge, even more people with similar faces but none his. I tiptoed over and around them, and knew why the old man hadn't suggested this bridge when I'd wanted to leave. They looked like sardines packed into a concrete can, barely a few inches between them.

My will deflated. He wasn't here. He wasn't at the other bridge. "Let's just go–"

Scarlett ran towards me. "We have to go!"

My heart jolted. "What happened? Is it the old man?" I ran, then almost tripped over a woman in my hurry.

"Zeke said he's back, came walking in a bit ago. He's fine, but there's an emergency. He said to get you back asap." She continued to run as she relayed the info for me.

Her words were like ice, freezing me in place as a new fear rose to the surface. The news of the old man's safe return meant nothing compared to what else could have Zeke so eager for me to come back.

Because if it wasn't about the old man, it could only really be one thing.

The club found me.

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