Page 3 of Ink

Which is where my ass should already be. I can practically hear Gage, the other tattoo artist at the shop, giving me shit for being late.

Again.

Once I’m showered and dressed, I head downstairs into the kitchen of the clubhouse, praying to god Hash’s fat ass left me something to eat.

“Save any for me, darlin’?” I ask Evan, who currently has her back to me as she’s putting leftovers into containers.

“I just made Cain and I a sandwich. Want one?” She looks over her shoulder, wincing as she fully takes me in. “Rough morning?”

That’s when you know you really look like fuckin’ shit.

“Drank too much and stayed up too late. I’ll make my own sandwich. No need to do it for me, darlin’.” I wink as she steps aside. “Where’s Prez?”

She smiles slightly at the mention of him. “He’s letting Hades out. You guys were really quiet last night. Usually, I’m two seconds away from telling you all to shut the fuck up.”

Evan is Cain, my president’s old lady. She ran into some trouble a while back when she was helping the club out, and those two haven’t left each other’s side since. They actually live in Evan’s house right next door, but occasionally still stay the night in Cain’s room here. Switch of scenery, I guess.

“We didn’t party last night.” I shake my head. “I was busy kickin’ ass online.”

“I hope you didn’t tell a teenager again that you were going to fuck their mom.”

Someone needs to toughen up the younger generation.

“If that fuckin’ punk wouldn’t have started it, I wouldn’t have had to end it. It doesn’t matter what age you are. If you have the balls to talk shit, you better be able to take it.”

“It’s still a child.” Evan laughs as she rolls her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter how old you are. Better to get your shit rocked online than in person.” I shrug.

Evan shakes her head. “You all are hopeless. How did the interview go?”

I pause with my sandwich one inch from my mouth. “What interview?”

Evan’s brow scrunches slightly. “I thought you said you had an interview to fill… fuck. I can’t remember her name. The front desk girl who asked Cain to whip his dick out at the bonfire for Scotch’s birthday. That bitch is fucking lucky I wasn’t standing right there when it happened.”

Oh shit.

“I’m getting the vibe that you forgot.” Evan crosses her arms. “Please don’t tell me you left that poor girl waiting outside of a locked-up shop in the middle of Ravenna Heights.”

“She wouldn’t have been locked out because Gage opened today. I did forget, though.” I shrug sheepishly.

I really need to start writing stuff down.

Chapter

Three

SUTTON

Igot the job.

I got the freaking job!

I don’t even care that it started raining during my interview and I have to walk back in it. Nothing is going to take this small victory away from me. Not even the crappy motel I’m staying in until I find something in my price range, which, if I’m being honest, isn’t much. I’ve been running in fight-or-flight mode for so long that I forgot what winning feels like.

I’m not stupid, though, and I’m still not confident this is going to last as long as I want it to. If he would have asked more questions about my background or if the guy who was supposed to interview me actually showed up, I probably wouldn’t have gotten it. I didn’t think there was anyone left in this world that gave out chances like that. He probably only did it because I look like the last person on the planet that would steal from them. Plus, I look reliable.

I’ll take any help I can get as long as it doesn’t come in the form of pity. I refuse to be anyone’s charity case. I left on my own and I’m going to make it on my own one way or another, even if it kills me.