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Family photography wasn’t my thing. I loved candid shots, people watching, studying human behavior. Still, there was something magical about recording these moments for my own family. And I had to laugh at the pictures of Beck with my bag slung over his shoulder.
When Thatcher turned to Trinity, he opened his arms and raised his eyebrows. “Come on, sis. No hug for your brother?”
She ran into his arms, and he lifted her up, much like he had me.
Moving around them, I got as many pictures of their expressions as I could. They didn’t always see eye to eye, and they were different in so many ways, but these images were proof of the love they had for each other.
They were getting a few of these framed for Christmas this year.
“Who wants to go get food?” Thatcher asked as he set Trinity down but kept his arm around her shoulders. She beamed up at him, and I realized, I’d never seen her this affectionate with him.
Most of the time there was push or pull between them. If only for today, he was the big brother she idolized.
I snagged that shot too.
After a chorus of yeses, it seemed like the opportunity for great, heart melting shots had passed, and I put the cap on the end of the lens to keep the dust out.
Rhys was watching me with soft eyes, while Beck and Jonah both grinned, shaking their heads.
Hooking an arm around my neck, Beck pulled me against him as we left the stadium. “You know, Pretty Girl, I always enjoy watching you in your zone. The way you get focused but low-key excited to create your art, it’s mesmerizing.”
Ducking my head, I grinned. I was glad they enjoyed seeing me when I wasn’t aware they watched me. Kind of ironic given how some of us had become friends.
We rode in two separate cars to the pizza place, jamming out to music, high on celebrating one of our own’s successes.
But it was when we walked into the place that my jaw dropped, and I wished I hadn’t left my camera in the car.
The entire back wall that had been restored wood was gone, replaced by a mural that spanned every inch. We hadn’t been back here to eat in a while, but that definitely hadn’t been in the works the last time I was here.
There were bikers working on cars and bikes, others sitting back enjoying a beer. They were all insanely detailed, even without their faces ever shown. The contrast in colors, and even the gold highlights was something to be in awe of.
I didn’t need confirmation to know it was Thatcher’s work. The artistry and brush strokes were his. But where the murals outside of their compound were colorful and vibrant, full of life, these were, dark, moody, and everything you’d expect in a biker hangout.
“Thatch…Did you do this?” I wanted to slap my forehead. I just confirmed to myself I knew he had.
He stepped up beside me as Trinity joined him on his other side. “I did. When I’ve had extra work at the college, I was really here, working on this. I used some morning hours too.”
“It’s beautiful, Thatcher,” Trinity whispered.
“Not too shabby, right?” Thatcher put an arm around each of us as we continued to stare slack-jawed at the wall. I wasn’t sure I wanted to voice this, but his skill, even though it was still recognizably his, seemed like it had improved a hundred-fold.
“What do you mean shabby? This is the fucking shit.” Angel sauntered up, turning to admire the wall with us. “Did you tell them?”
“Not yet,” Thatcher said through a smile. “I wanted to show them this first.”
Thatcher led us all to the round corner booth, and when we were all seated, waiting expectantly for an answer, he drummed his fingers on the table.
“Okay, so.” He suddenly seemed nervous. “I’ve always wanted to do something with my art, and not teach.” He grimaced and we all laughed. We knew exactly how he felt about that. “After I did the murals for the Devil’s Hands, word spread, and soon MCs from around the US started reaching out. It got me thinking, why couldn’t I do something like this. Especially when some of them started throwing out numbers to get their murals sooner.” He flicked a gaze at Angel and Graves, who were leaning against the wall next to the booth.
“Graves and I have been throwing the idea back and forth, and they’ve agreed to invest in my art business to get it off the ground. I pushed off all commissions until after graduation, but I’ll be starting on jobs in a couple weeks.”
“You’re gonna kill it. This work? The grit? It’s perfect for jaded fuckers like us.” Angel dropped a hand on Thatcher’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze.
“This is… this is amazing,” Jonah blurted.
“I’m speechless, and for me, that’s insane.” Beck shook his head grinning.
“Some of the jobs are in pretty cool places too. Graves and Angel already said you could take a few days here and there to go with me.” Thatcher nodded to them.
