Chapter 4 #2
The Chaos Demons never required a property tattoo.
I’m not sure if it’s because we were disposable, or because—back when things were bad—some of the girls were sold, and tattoos would’ve lowered our value.
The thought makes me shiver, and it’s one of the reasons why I got mine immediately after Viper, Zero, and Grim cleaned out the bad elements from the club.
I was one of the lucky ones, even though I never really felt that lucky.
I became friends with Megan, the queen bee, who encouraged me to take a few business courses and spread my wings a little.
Even though, at the time, that just meant jumping from one chapter of Chaos Demons to another.
I thought a fresh start would be beneficial, and it was in a way.
It helped me realize you can’t outrun your problems if you carry them with you.
I sigh, which causes Dean to look up at me. “You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m just out of sorts today.”
I turn away from him and look at Midas. “So, how does someone end up owning a pawnshop?”
Midas stares at me, and for a second, I don’t think he’s going to say anything, but then he starts talking about how he ended up in the pawn business. I think he knows it’s helping to distract me. I’m not scared of needles, but I won’t lie, I’m a little worried about everything it represents.
Blade says it’s for my safety—anyone wearing this symbol falls under Raven Souls’ protection.
I crave having a family so badly, I’m willing to ink my loyalty into my skin, but there is a small part of me that worries it feels more like a mark of ownership than protection, and instead of being one step closer to freedom, I’ve added another lock on my cage.
Half the problem is fear. Some part of me still feels like that terrified little girl who’s all alone in the world.
I swallow and use the sound of Midas’s voice to anchor me.
It keeps me from spiraling. My dark thoughts don’t belong here—not in this new place where I’m going to build a life for myself.
It might not be freedom in the way most people know it, but it’s the closest I’ve come since I woke up and found my mother dead.
I’m so caught up in Midas’s story that I don’t realize Dean’s finished until he taps my arm.
“All done. Take a look.”
I lift my arm to examine the small black raven, and my heart both warms and sinks a little.
“Nice,” I tell him with a smile, setting my arm back down.
“I guess you already know the proper aftercare if this isn’t your first rodeo?”
I nod, even as he quickly goes over it again before wrapping my wrist in plastic wrap.
“If you have any issues, give me a call. Midas has my number.”
“Thanks, Dean. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. Blade already paid.”
“Oh. Okay, cool.” I stand up and sway a little, realizing I haven’t eaten today.
“Come on, let’s grab you something to eat before I take you back,” Midas says, handing me my helmet.
“Won’t that make you late?”
“The prospect will just have to deal with it.”
“If you don’t mind, I can always come with you—as long as you feed me. It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
And that’s exactly what we do. After saying goodbye to Dean, we stop at a fast-food joint to grab some takeout, then head to Au.
By the time we get there, the prospect looks about ready to drop, so I’m glad I didn’t make Midas take me back to the club.
“Sit down and eat. I’m just gonna have a quick word with the prospect before he heads out and check a few things in the back. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” I sit in one of the chairs behind the counter and pull my food from the bag, balancing it on my lap.
By the time Midas comes back, I’ve finished my crispy chicken sandwich and tater tots and have eaten half his onion rings. He looks at me in shock and amusement.
“What? I was hungry,” I say, popping an onion ring into my mouth.
“Jesus, Legs. How the hell do you eat like that and look like you do?”
I wipe my hands and grin, swallowing my mouthful of food. “Good genes. And I work out.”
“So, no girly salads?” he teases.
I narrow my eyes. “Careful, Midas. Your sexism’s showing. Salads are for everyone.”
He holds up his hands in mock surrender, making me roll my eyes. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one. I’ve never had a salad I liked yet.”
“Well, you’ve never tried one of mine.”
“Alright, I’ll make you a deal. If you can make me a salad that I might actually like, I’ll give you a hundred bucks,” he says, holding out his hand.
I grin. “Alright,” I say, shaking his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal. Anything you don’t like?”
“Yeah, salad.”
I burst out laughing, and he smiles. I’m glad we cleared the air between us. Yeah, things are still new, and there’ll be some bumps along the way, but we’ll figure it out.
“Since I’m here, why don’t you put me to work?”
He takes a bite of his burger, looking at me to see if I’m serious. “Alright. I’ve got some new stock that needs to be added to the inventory. You can do that if you want.”
“Sure, why not?”
“Well, it was either that or cleaning, and you already think I’m a sexist pig.”
I shake my head. “I don’t. I think bikers just think differently, that’s all. And I don’t mind cleaning if that’s what you’d prefer.”
He waves me off. “I’ll leave that for the prospect.”
I shrug. “I don’t mind either way. I just need to do something.” And I’m not sure we have enough things to talk about.
Once he’s finished eating, I get up and throw away the trash while Midas grabs his laptop from the back. When he returns, he shows me what he wants me to do. Looks like those business courses came in handy after all.
“Seems straightforward enough. I’ll shout if I need help.” I push away from the counter, ready to head back to his office, when he slides his hand over my arm.
“Stay out here and keep me company. It’s not like you’ll be in the way.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“Yeah. Just give me a second. I’ve got one of those fold-up TV trays around here somewhere you can use to work on.”
He heads into the back just as the bell chimes above the door. I paste a grin on my face, hoping it looks welcoming, as the guy from the first time I was here walks in. “What are the odds?” I mutter to myself.
He looks around before spotting me and frowns as he walks over. “I didn’t realize you worked here.”
“I don’t. I’m just helping out. Everything okay?”
“I took your advice and told my mom.”
“And…?”
“She cried. I fucking hate making her cry. Makes me feel like a piece of shit.”
“Then maybe stop doing the things that make her cry.”
He huffs out a laugh but nods, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. He lets out a breath. “I sold my car. I wanna buy my mom’s ring back.”
I smile. “I knew I had a good feeling about you,” I tell him. It’s not long before he returns the smile.
“Really?”
“Really. Now, let me go find Midas for you. I have no clue how any of this works.”
“No problem. Uh…maybe I could get your number too?”
“She’s taken,” Midas snaps as he comes up behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder.
“Figured. But hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Midas doesn’t say anything, so I turn to look up at him. “He has the money to buy his mom’s ring back,” I tell him.
“Is that right?” he says dryly. I elbow him in the ribs because he’s not being very professional right now.
“Yeah, like I was telling your friend, I sold my car. My mom’s more important.”
“Alright, step over here, and we’ll get this all squared away.” He looks down at me. “You good to deal with that inventory?”
“Yep.” I look back at the guy and give him a friendly wave. “I’m glad you did the right thing.”
“Thanks, but I still have a lot to make up for.”
“Maybe, but this was a good first step.”
Once he leaves, the day passes quickly. By the time Au closes, I’ve logged all the new stock, taken inventory, wiped down the showcases, and swept the shop floor—all while Midas dealt with the steady stream of customers.
Most of the time, I kept to myself, only stepping in to smooth things over when it looked like he was about to lose his shit.
Turns out the man has zero patience. I’d laugh at him for picking the worst job for himself if he doesn’t like people, but I don’t feel like getting my ass spanked.
And he seems to be riding the edge between fucking and fighting since he locked the doors after the last customer.
“Thanks for your help today,” he grunts as he leads me out the back and over to his bike. I bite my lip to hide my smile.
“You’re welcome. If you ever need a hand again, just ask.”
He grumbles something under his breath as he hands me my helmet.
“What was that?”
“I said, watching every motherfucker hit on you was bad enough for one day. Not sure I can handle it again.”
“What are you talking about? One person asked for my number, and that was it.”
“They were all men, and they were all looking at you. You’re not a guy, so you don’t get it, but I know exactly what each one of them was thinking,” he says, swinging his leg over his bike and starting the engine.
I pull the helmet down over my head and climb on, holding him tightly as I laugh all the way back, feeling hopeful about us.
Of course, the little bubble of hope that things will be okay pops and fizzes out over the next year.
After Midas’s intense reaction to me and his bid to become friends, I thought…well, it doesn’t really matter what I thought. I suppose I still have some naivety in me after all.
He pulled back, like he always does—though not before I made him one of my salads loaded with meat and carbs, which he loved—and, true to his word, he gave me a hundred bucks for my efforts.
The guy could be sweet and funny, so his rejection stung, and I won’t pretend it didn’t.
But I get it. I’m a club girl, and he’s a patched brother, and that’s the line in the dirt between us he refuses to cross.
That hasn’t stopped him from coming to me to forget his troubles and fuck away his day, though.
As the weeks and months turned into a year, I adapted. I’d developed thick skin over the years, and after a few awkward exchanges between us, we fell into a rhythm that worked for us.
Now I don’t bother waiting for him to kick me out after fucking me. The second he pulls out, I pick up my clothes, get dressed, give him a polite smile, and leave before his mood turns cold.
I give him exactly what he wants—a willing pussy, with no strings attached.