“Just feeling more comfortable. You all aren’t that bad.”
Evie scoffed, catching up to us. “Don’t speak too soon. Wait until you spend more time with them and tell me what you think after.”
“Oh, come on. We really aren’t that bad,” Mason said. “Aiden takes you everywhere you want to go. You don’t have to worry about being jumped here, and literally no one bothers you because you try to get them killed off if they do.”
She shrugged. “It comes in handy, but I think you all need to let me start taking care of some of these creeps on my own. I can handle them.”
“What a surprise,” Aiden added with an eye roll. “Psycho girl wants to do psycho things.”
“Are you really one to talk when you are already doing those psycho things?” Evie asked.
“What about you, Regan?” Kane asked. That shocked me even more. Kane wasn’t a big talker, and I didn’t think he would be asking Regan anything, let alone talking to her.
“Yeah, what kinda psycho stuff are you into?” Hero asked. Evie knocked against him, rolling her eyes.
“None?”
“Oh,” Hero said, and I could hear the disappointment. “Then what kind of normal stuff are you into?”
“Art, I guess.”
“Good art. I’m getting one of her drawings tattooed on me,” I said.
“No, you aren’t,” she said.
“Yeah, I am. That one you showed me of the tree of skulls.”
Mason pushed through next to Regan. “Does that mean you are taking tattoo design requests?”
Regan looked up at me, and I leaned down. “No need to hide it. Like I said, I wouldn’t be walking around talking about art if I didn’t think it was good. They will like what you create. Hero might like the girl with horns one you showed me.”
“A demon girl?” he asked. “Might be the only kind that would ever love me, so I might as well get it tattooed on me for good luck. Does one of those just rise from the ground or do I have to do some ancient ritual shit?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s one of those get naked and dance under the moonlight type of things,” I said. Regan laughed, the sound like a burst of light in my life.
“Damn, I was hoping it was more of a ritualistic killing type of thing,” Hero mumbled. “I’ll still take you up on the tattoo design, though. Can you bring it the next time you come to the shop?”
“Yeah,” she said, sounding surprised. “I can do that.”
We reached the makeshift race track, the air thick with the scent of burning rubber and gasoline. The roar of engines filled the night, and Regan’s eyes widened with excitement as she watched two bikers revving up at the starting line.
“This is insane,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise. “You just come here and randomly race?”
“Pretty much. They take bets, and the types of challenges change. Sometimes, it’s who can do the longest burnout or fastest time races, or who can hold the bike up in a wheelie the longest. Things like that. A little insane, but fun.”
She nodded, her grip on my waist tightening. The races started, bikes shooting forward in a blur of speed. I wanted to care about the races, but I was too worried thinking about her. Regan leaned into me, her hand slipping under the back of my shirt, tracing absent patterns on it, and I felt a rush of contentment. I could feel when she moved over the scars and back onto normal skin, but she didn’t seem to care about them.
I leaned down, my lips at her ear as she watched. “Do you like it?”
“The races or you?” she asked, grinning as her hand splayed out on my back.
I couldn’t even hide how much I wanted to smile, hoping no one here would notice. “The races.”
“I love it,” she said, turning to look at me. Her eyes were bright as they searched my face, and I held my breath.
“And me?”
I could see her suck in a hard breath, her eyes widening the slightest amount before she turned her attention back on the races. “That’s okay, too,” she said with a grin.
