The last time I’d been back here had been for a Christmas visit, the same time that Finn had been here recuperating actually. My dad and I used to spend every Christmas together, no matter where we were or what was going on between us. With Mom gone, we’d stuck together closely. But aside from that bright spark of getting to spend some time with Finn and becoming close, the rest of the visit really hadn’t gone all that well for me. In just that short time, my dad and his club members had been so overbearing and overprotective that it’d been downright suffocating. There had also been pressure from him to move back home where it was safe, where my family was. It had all been way too much, far too much control exerted over me. So, I’d left and gone back into the world with my freedom, vowing never to risk it again and I hadn’t been back for the most recent Christmas, purposely skipping the visit after what my dad had pulled the time before
But being back here now was so different.
There was no awful sense of suffocation. My dad wasn’t consistently checking up on me in that invasive way of his. He’d actually left me and Finn to it. He’d even given us a room in the clubhouse to share and he hadn’t made one disparaging remark about it.
There’d been only love from him and from the boys.
It had given me the chance to enjoy the camaraderie and interactions with the boys who were like surrogate big brothers to me. I’d been able to walk around Ridgefield freely.
My dad had kept his word to Finn about everything Finn had filled me in on when they’d had their discussion at the safehouse where they’d laid out their plan of action.
It was just a shame that I’d come back when things were so dire and there was a huge threat hanging over the club.
The sting of Lou’s defection was felt by everyone. I wanted to tell them that I was sorry, to offer my sympathies, but I knew better than to bring it up. That wasn’t how things were done, especially when the club was in the middle of a brutal, dangerous war. They would grieve once it was done with. Until then, keeping morale up was key.
And the guys seemed to be working hard on that with their light-hearted banter. Just like right now with Tricks and Deviant.
Tricks was known for being the joker of the boys and Deviant was a big flirt when things needed to be kept light.
Tricks ran a hand through his mohawk. “So, what’s going on?”
“Nothing you’d be interested in,” Deviant said, taking in the ink covering every inch of exposed skin in his jeans and black tee. “You’ve got enough. I don’t think there’s a single space left for another tat.”
Yeah, Tricks was inked from the tips of his toes all the way up to the sides of his face.
“Well, there’s one part of me that ain’t inked.”
“Where?” I asked, under the impression that he was completely covered.
The two of them exchanged a look.
“Yeah, where?” a voice called out.
I jerked my head up to see Finn striding up to us. He cocked an eyebrow at Tricks as he came to a stop the other side of me, folding his arms across his chest. “Go on then, spill it.”
It was a challenge, but I could tell by Finn’s relaxed tone that it was more joshing than serious.
Deviant burst out laughing. “Now who’s doing the unsanctioned flirting with the club princess?”
Keeping his eyes on Finn’s, Tricks said, “Wasn’t flirting, just about to state a fact.”
“Well, I can tell you right now, she won’t be inking your dick.”
“Eww!” I cried, eyeing Tricks. “That’s where you meant?”
All of them burst out laughing, including Finn, much to my surprise. From the absolute sincerity of his throaty, full-body laugh, it seemed to be much more than just faking it to keep up morale. It seemed that he was really enjoying being around the boys, being part of a brotherhood again. I figured it was very similar to what he’d had in the military, back when he and my dad had first met. It had to be nice after so long being forced to be a loner and to remain detached from everyone and everything.
“Fuck that,” Tricks went on. “Ain’t no way I’m torturing my cock with a tattoo needle. According to Prez, getting it pierced is bad enough. A needle would be way worse, way longer, more intense. No fucking thank you.”
“Urgh,” I said, cringing. “I didn’t need to know that about my dad.”
Finn chuckled and gave my shoulder a gentle, comforting squeeze. “Why don’t you show them your design?” he suggested, gesturing to my notebook in my lap. He ran his hand up my neck and into my hair, stroking my hair in a very couple-like gesture that had me smiling.
I noticed the boys watching with an eagle-eyed focus. Although it was unnecessary, it was also sweet that they were looking out for me.
“Go on,” Finn coaxed, tapping his finger on my closed notebook.
I could feel myself blushing and I hesitated. Finn had already brought me out of my shell in so many ways, but it was still instinctual so far to shy away in certain situations, especially being put on the spot. But I knew Finn was just really impressed and proud of my work and me in general. He wanted me to feel the same way about myself. And I wanted that too, I wanted to see myself the way he did.
One step at a time.
I opened my book and flipped to the page with my TRUE INK logo.
Holding it up for Deviant and Tricks to see, I explained that it was intended for my own tattoo parlor that I’d planned on owning and running one day.
Tricks whistled.
“That’s fucking ace,” Deviant said, his shoulder-length brown hair falling forward as he peered down at
