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I take it gratefully, not asking how he obtained it; or if him and Maddy watched it. Usually, I’d have something clever to say, but this is just another reminder of my night with that sassy-assed bitch.
“Well, if that’s all.” Prez slams down the gavel, and one by one we move out of the small chapel. The crisp autumn air is getting colder, and I wonder how long it’ll be before the snow hits.
“I’m heading into town to open the shop, you wanna come get some more of that back piece shaded before my first appointment?” Nyx asks as we head toward the clubhouse.
“I’ll be right behind ya,” I tell him, slapping him on his back and heading over to my brother.
“I’m going into town to get some ink, you coming with?” Screwy shrugs at me, suggesting he’s got nothing better to do, and we both head over to our bikes together.
I look across the yard at Tawk, it’s got to be said, the Prospect jacket he wears these days kinda suits him. He’s still got a lot to learn, though. I watch him following behind Abby, carrying a tray while she fills it up with empty glasses from last night’s party. She’s chatting away to him, probably the usual boring shit females like to talk about, but he seems to be doing a good job at pretending to be interested.
We get to town about fifteen minutes later. Manitou Springs ain't nothing fancy, the buildings are old and worn. The roads are full of potholes. But this is our town, and although most the residents here fear us, they also respect us.
I nod my head at Lucinda as I ride past her beauty salon, and she gives me a timid little wave as she watches us pass. She sure wasn’t timid last month when she had a mouth full of my brother's cock and an ass full of mine.
We park our bikes outside the studio and follow Nyx inside. Screwy takes a seat on one of the leather couches while I hang up my cut and take off the sweater I’m wearing.
“You ready?” Nyx comes out of the back room with a blunt hanging from the corner of his mouth.
“Thought you were quitting?” I remind him of the pussy shit he’d been spouting a few nights ago.
“Cigarettes, yeah. Can’t cut this shit out, not when Ell’s only got two months to go. I need something to keep me chill.” He hands it over to me, and I take a long draw, holding the smoke in my lungs until it burns.
“Good shit,” I tell him as I exhale. “Tac’s homegrown?”
“Yep.” He takes it back from me, placing it between his lips as he pulls up a stool and slips on some gloves.
Aside from sex, I can't think of a better sensation than getting inked. The buzz of the gun and the scratch through your flesh; it’s a burn that you can trick yourself into thinking you’re used to until a different nerve gets etched through. The sound of my brother clicking his fingers and the way he suddenly stands up to stare out the window instantly gets my attention, and when I follow his line of vision, I see what’s got him interested. A young kid, probably an out-of-towner, follows a slightly older guy down the alley between Jodie’s bakery and the hardware shop.
“You think he’s scoring…?” Nyx is already out the shop door before I’ve finished asking. And I quickly throw my sweater back over my head, grabbing my cut and checking it’s covering the gun in its holster before I chase him across the street, with Screwy not far behind.
“What have I told you about showing your face in this town?” Nyx marches at the kids, grabbing the older of the two by his scruff and flinging him against the bricks.
“Nyx.” The guy smiles back at him, and guessing from the smarmy way he says it, I’d bet he thoroughly deserves the right hook that Nyx smashes into his face. I snatch the baggy from the hand of the terrified-looking kid who’s watching, and check it out. Ain’t much, two grams at the most.
“Beat it,” I warn, shoving him hard in the shoulder and sending him on his way.
“What’s with the shit, Luke?” Nyx takes the baggy from me and waves it in the face of the guy who he’s got pinned. The idiot tries to be brave, wiping his bloody mouth with the back of his hand before he starts to laugh.
“You got a death wish or something?” I ask while my brother pats him down. He pulls a roll of fifties out of the guy’s sock and holds it up to me before straightening up.
“Keep it,” he spits at Nyx. “You need it more than I do, all the kids you keep firing into that whore of yours.”
Crack.
Nyx throws his head back against the wall again and lifts him up by his throat.
“That’s my wife you're talking about, asshole. You better watch your mouth.”
“And how's Abby these days? Can’t remember the last time she called me for a fix.”
I look at my brother and shake my head. This kid’s gotta have a screw loose.
Nyx’s pocket starts vibrating, and he cold stares Luke—whoever the fuck he is—while he reaches the hand he ain’t holding him with into his pocket to get his phone.
“It's Ella; I gotta take this.” He nods at me to take over, releasing his grip and walking to the other end of the alley to answer.
“So you know Nyx?” I smirk at the asshole in front of me.
