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"Violet is the only girl I've seen you react to. That first day you saw her, she was touring the high school, and you had to fucking walk away because she was jailbait. You are yourself around her. You don't put your walls up; you've let her in, brother. Why not open that wall completely and see where it goes, instead of trying to fuck other people on the side, because we both know you'll feel guilty, we both know you'll fall apart, because somewhere deep down inside of you, you know you're already half in love with her."
I swallow hard, looking down, knowing he's right. I rasp, "But I'll destroy her, the club will destroy her, and I'm stuck because of the contract my father had me sign."
He pats my back, making me look at him. His eyes hold compassion as he says, "Then maybe keep her separate but make sure he knows why, I don't know. Just see where this gets you both. I can guarantee now, you may say this is a casual thing, but I know you; you won't want to fuck another girl but will try out of principle, and then feel guilty. Violet is the one, she always has been." He pats my back again before leaving the room, saying over his shoulder, "I'll see you at the family barbecue next month. I'll expect Vi to be there, and who knows, maybe I can introduce you to Will."
I chuckle as I hear my front door open and shut before sighing, grabbing the money he left with a large fucking tip.
Damn idiot. I've told him plenty of times he doesn't get charged for his tats.
I mumble under my breath as I start to wipe everything down. I've had four clients at Devils Tats and another three at home, Kellan being my last. Yesterday, we had church, and Snake asked if I could go on the next club run in two weeks to take ammo to the Huntsmen MC in New York. We'll meet them halfway near Mississippi. I clearly couldn't say no to his request. At least it'll be with him and not Hairy. I don't trust that fucker as far as I can fucking throw him.
If I could get my knife to his throat, I would.
When my phone rings, I've just finished shutting the lights off in the tattoo room. My heart instantly stills, hoping it's Vi, who I haven't heard from since I spoke to her about the arrangement I want between us, trying to distract her from the fact she hates needles.
I've never seen someone go as pale as she did when I got the tattoo gun out.
Fuck, she was cute.
I check the screen on my phone and smile. It's not Vi, but it is one of my other favorite girls.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite girl."
She chuckles. "Hope you've told your sister you prefer me."
I smile. "I value my life, thank you very much, Momma.”
She laughs again, my father's voice echoing through the speaker. "Whoever is making you laugh, I want their head. Only I can make you laugh…."
I shake my head and smile a little. He may have been a terrible father to me, but at least he loves my momma.
"Oh, shush you," Momma states, "it's our son."
I swallow hard. I still find it difficult when she calls me her son, even after all this time. I don't understand how she can love me and raise me when my own father couldn't, because I'm the product of a clubwhore.
"Now, sweetheart, I was calling to see if you could pick up Scarlet for me. She's just called because the sleepover your father gently encouraged her to attend has gone wrong. The girls only invited her so she could give them the answers to their math homework."
I scowl, about to reply, wondering why Dad can't pick her up when his voice comes over the receiver again. "She probably misunderstood. That girl is a loner and needs to make friends. Tats is not picking her up; she can suck it up a little longer."
I snort. Of course, Dad is being “Dad” as usual.
I grunt. "Don't worry, Momma, I'll go pick her up. You don't want both your kids feeling neglected by their father."
With that, I hang up and grab my keys, heading down the hallway, past the open-spaced living, kitchen, and dining area, and out of the house. I go to my garage and climb into my truck before I quickly bring up my sister's bracelet GPS chip details, her location showing she's on main street, five minutes from the club.
I grumble under my breath as I put my truck into reverse out of my garage. "Good for nothing, son of a bastard asshole."
I curse my father out, making sure to not bring my grandmother into this, because she is no bitch. Well, she can be, but I won't call her that.
Fifteen minutes later, I'm pulling up outside a yellow bungalow. My sister runs out with tears staining her cheeks, her hair a mess, making me jump out. I meet her near the passenger door and quickly cup her cheeks, noticing a scratch mark on her cheek. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around my waist and placing her head on my chest as I look up near the door. Three girls all stand there shitting themselves seeing me, and I narrow my eyes at them, growling, making them step back in fear. One of them has a nosebleed, showing what a fighter my sister is.
Good.
I kiss the top of my sister's head. "Come on, darling, let's go…."
She nods and allows me to help her inside my truck before I turn to the girls and point at them, stating, "Go near my fucking sister again, I'll make all three of you orphans. The same goes for anyone else willing to fucking hurt her."
Fear etches their features, knowing the club's history, but I ignore them and round my truck, climbing in. My sister scoots over to the middle and lays her head on my shoulder. My jaw ticks with anger at her silent sobs.
