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I smile at the one whose long hair is piled up on top of his head in a perfect man bun, his face looks a little busted up, but he’s still jaw dropping handsome, not exactly what I was expecting from the brutal bikers Father talks about.
“Hey darlin’,” the other guy acknowledges me and I give him a polite smile back as I pull open the shop door.
“You lookin’ to get inked?” he asks, pulling his legs in and resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes assess me from my heels, all the way up to my tits and the cocky smirk on his face gets wider.
“I’m here to find Nyx,” I tell him.
“Nyx. You hear that Troj? She’s here for Nyx.” The guy stands up on his feet, his powerful frame towering over mine as he steps up to me. “Nyx is otherwise engaged, but I’ll happily assist you with your requirements.” He places his hand against the glass behind me and cages me under his arms. Close up, he’s kinda handsome too but in all the wrong ways. Just looking at him feels like a sin. His hair falls into his eyes, and his stern features don’tquite suit the huge smile he’s wearing.
“Back off, Squealer,” the other one tells him.
“Come on, Trojey I’m happy to go twos.” Squealer, if that’s even a real name, glances back over his shoulder at the longhaired guy, who rolls his eyes and takes another long drag from whatever it is he’s smoking.
“You best go on inside darlin’, speak to Tac,” the more sensible of the two tells me,and I use my hip to barge the door open and almost send the tower of a guy who’s trying to overpower me hurtling through it. It earns me a snorty laugh from his friend.
“Jesus Troj, you on a fucking pussy sobriety pact or summit?” I hear him cursing as I step inside.
I know straight away who Tac is. The bald guy is covered from his neck to his wrists, sitting on a stool behind the desk and counting out dollar bills. He’s got a smoke dangling from his lips that doesn’t smell like it’s got just tobacco in iteither. When I eventually get his attention, he stubs it out into the skeleton hand ashtray that's resting on top of his desk.
“What can I do for you, lil’ lady?” he asks, not taking his focus away from the wads of cash in his hands.
“I came to find out what happened with Nyx,” I say. Praying that this guy has some answers for me.
“That's club business darlin’,” he shakes his head back at me.
“What did Luke Robinson have to do with your stupid club?” I press for more, not prepared to accept that as a valid answer.
“I’d watch your mouth, little girl, people have lost their tongues for saying a lot less. It’d be a shame for you to lose yours,” he looks up and warns me, his eyes accessing me in the same way the other guy did.
“Well do you know where he is, does he have a lawyer?” I ask, not willing to back down. Nyx can’t go to jail, Not for the sake of Luke Robinson. Everyone knows he likes to provoke, I could tell the police all the terrible things he’s done to me, explain that Nyx did it to protect me.
“Like I said, the club is dealin' with it,” the guy shrugs, not a shred of sympathy on his harsh face as he stands up and makes his way through to the back, taking his cash with him.
“Well, if you get the chance to talk to him can you tell him I need to speak to him?” I call out. Pissed off at how rude he’s being.
“I doubt I’ll be seeing him for a while,” he calls back at me. Then reappears a few moments later.
“But if I do, who should I tell him was lookin’?” he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me suspiciously.
“Ella,” I tell him my name, and I can’t help feeling a little bummed that Nyx never took the time to tell his friends about me. Tac raises his eyebrows like he’s expecting more.“Ella Jackson.”
“Sure,” he gives me a half-hearted grin.
“You wanna write that down?” I check, not having much faith in him remembering.
“Like I said, Miss, I ain't expecting him back anytime soon.” Tac goes back to his business, and I stand helpless, my heart shattering.
I want to give in to my tears, but I manage to hold off, bursting out the shop door and almost tumbling into the bigger of the two guys outside. He catches me by shoulders, and I shrug him off, racing to my car and speeding away before the tears finally let themselves free. Tears of anger, tears of heartbreak, and tears of regret for being so damn stupid that I never saw this coming.
County sucks. It only took me a few hours of being here to learn that. The guards treat you like scum, the place is filthy, and there arefar too many assholes trying to throw their weight around to prove they’re a threat.
In reality, half the people in here wouldn't know real danger if it smashed them in the face with an iron bar.
I use my first time out in the yard to observe, scoping out the different crews and separating the real threats from the lowlifes in here for scamming old folk out of their pensions.
It ain’t hard to figure out who’s who, most of the men here wear their colors on their arms. There’s a few guys knocking around that I know mix with the club rivals, and some with blacked-out patches. Black ink jobs ain’t often done by choice. And these men are the ones to watch. Those fuckers are prepared to do just about anything to get back in favor with the ones they’ve pissed off.
I’ve barely scraped through my first day before I notice my first threat. Some big fucker, hanging out on the Mexican side of the chow hall. He’s been eyeballing me since I got in and I can’t figure if he wants to fuck me or use me as a punch bag. I don’t care how big the son of a bitch is, he won’t be doing either. I never intended on throwing my shit around on my first day here but I also ain’t about to let anyone here think I’m easy pickings. I’ve watched the way Troj fights, he’s taken out men twice his size by being smart. And I’ll be smart before I get my ass fucked.
