Chapter Twenty-Four
THE STARK CLARITY of the image on my shoulder surprises me. The color is so intense. I had imagined somehow that it would look more faded, absorbed into my skin, but instead it’s crisp and clean.
I’ve seen a thousand tattoos, obviously, but I’ve never seen one on my own skin before.
Fine drops of blood are forming all over, oozing through the color, and I try not to be put off by it. My skin feels tight and hot, like I have a bad sunburn, but the image is beautiful. A perfect rendition of one I’ve seen many times before. Four snakes, fangs bared, entwined around a dagger.
Ryder, Wyatt, Damian and Jake.
It’s…beautiful.
Mine.
“You good, Max?” Luis calls through the door.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Come in.”
He steps into the small bathroom. His eyes flick to the mirror and he gives a nod.
“Looks awesome,” he says.
“Thanks. I love it.”
A pleased smile tugs at his mouth. “All right. I’m gonna wrap it.”
He smoothes ointment over the fresh ink and then sticks plastic wrap over it and tapes it down.
“Leave that till tomorrow. Gentle washing and moisturizing. Don’t pick at it when it starts to peel. I left an instruction sheet for aftercare with Ryder.”
“Don’t peel my snakes,” I repeat solemnly.
He gives me a look. “Do not peel your snakes.”
Outside the bathroom, there’s an air of conviviality in the house. Damian has put on music, Jake is pouring drinks, and Ryder is laying out a selection of snacks.
“You guys have fun tonight,” says Luis, reaching for the doorknob. “Happy…whatever you call it.”
“Hellbent Night!” Damian calls with slight outrage, like everyone should know what Hellbent Night is.
“Right.” Luis’s mouth quirks. “Happy Hellbent Night.” Then he opens the door and steps out into the dark with a wave.
The living room feels warm, lit with lamps against the early autumn dark. Jake brings out four glasses and the whiskey bottle. Damian has his own tall glass with lime and ice.
“Well?” asks Wyatt, taking a seat in one of the chairs and leaning back. “What do you think? Worth all the pain?”
“Every second.” I take a seat on the couch, facing him. “It’s beautiful.”
Luis brought his equipment and did the tattoo right here in the living room, with all four men watching and holding my hand, encouraging me through it. It took hours, and the pain was excruciating. But now that it’s over I feel strangely floaty and pleasant. A little lightheaded, a little buzzed.
“Not bad, eh?” says Damian. “Looks exactly like ours. He’s good.”
Then he lifts his glass and looks around at all us collecting in the couch and chairs. “Happy Hellbent Night, motherfuckers,” he says, and we all raise our glasses.
He drops into the other armchair, and puts one boot up on the edge of the coffee table.
Jake and Ryder sit on either side of me on the couch.
Jake grabs a handful of chips and talks a bit about his job, a short-term gig for a government contractor.
Then we start talking about local news, stuff that’s happening in town, and gossip from the shop.
“I heard Babydoll’s opening a place,” Wyatt says to me.
“Yeah.” I nod. “A bar a couple of streets over from Main Street. Renovating an old pool hall, I think.”
“Oh, wow,” says Jake. “So she’s moved out of the clubhouse?”
“They’ve all moved out of the clubhouse,” Wyatt confirms. “Property was seized. Asset forfeiture. She and Cipher are living in town. I went on a ride with him last week,” he says to me. “Proud as hell. Said Babydoll got a business loan all on her own.”
“She asked me if I wanted to work there,” I volunteer, and I see a flash of concern in his eyes. “Don’t worry. I told her no. Honestly, I only ever want to work at Leathernecks.”
“Good,” Damian says. “But good for her.”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Good for her.”
I picture Babydoll behind a bar that actually belongs to her. Counting her own till, locking her own doors at night. No patches, no brotherhood, no men’s rules.
We survived the same fire, and knowing that she’s making a life for herself, a future, fills me with pride.
“Do you think this will be our first civilized Hellbent Night?” Wyatt asks.
Damian snorts. “None of us are clinging to life this time around…although Finch is bleeding.”
But Jake’s slow, wicked smile says it all. “If last year was any indication, this is probably not going to be civilized at all.” He winks at me and I blush.
It’s the question none of us has addressed.
Since Hellbent Night last year, everything about how we fit together has been taken apart and reassembled differently.
There was a time when I was ashamed about my feelings for all of them, when it felt like a puzzle with no solution.
But since that night one year ago, we agreed it was okay to share, to redefine love how it suited us, with the simple rule that it was all of us but only ever us.
Me at the centre of these four big, fierce men. I once thought I would never have a love like this, and now I have it with all of them.
But the thought of repeating last year has certainly been circling my mind all day. I live at Ryder’s house, spend time with Wyatt, spend time with Jake or Damian—or Jake and Damian. But since that night a year ago, I’ve never had all four of them in one night again.
And the prospect is dizzyingly exciting.
Looking around the faces in the room, it occurs to me that it’s my decision to make, not theirs. All they need is the word. They’re willing. They’re just wondering if I am.
“Okay,” says Damian. “Enough with the small talk. Should we start dares?”
Wyatt groans. “Here we go.”
Ryder laughs and refills our cups. Whiskey again. Seems that is the ceremonial drink of Hellbent Night. When he’s done, he tightens the cap and lays the bottle on its side on the floor and motions to Damian.
“Go ahead, Voss. Why don’t you get us started?”
“Fine.” Damian bends down and spins the bottle with force. It spins rapidly, moving chaotically across the rug, and stops just short of hitting the coffee table, pointing toward Jake.
“Perfect!” Damian claps his hands. “Jake, take off your shirt, and kiss Max so passionately it makes all of us uncomfortable.”
Jake laughs. “Wow, so we’re jumping right in, huh?”
“Yup.” Damian grins.
“Max?” Jake turns to me. “Any rules you want to lay down before we get started? Boundaries? Safe words?”
I smile. “Absolutely none.”
And so it starts with Jake.
He stands and lifts the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up over his head and tossing it aside.
He’s gorgeous, built like a male model, with lean, defined muscle and warm, olive skin.
He grins, locking his gaze on me, and steps into my space, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to look at him.
One hand cups my jaw, the other gathers my hair into his fist and pulls it tight, and then he kisses me.
It’s slow, deep, and prolonged. He pulls my hair, eliciting a gasp from me, and chuckles darkly against my mouth as he kisses me harder.
When he finally breaks free, I’m breathless. Damian whistles, Wyatt laughs, Ryder does a slow clap.
“Well, shit,” says Damian appreciatively.
Jake grins. “I would have thrown her down on her back, but…the tattoo.”
“Thanks for that.” I smile.
Damian reaches for the bottle. “Your spin, Preston.” But I have a feeling that we’ve already done all the dares we’re going to do tonight.
“Actually…” I start. Damian raises an eyebrow at me. “I was thinking we could skip over the dares this year. You know…just skip ahead to the next part?”
The sense of heightened interest is immediately detectable. Postures change. A round of looks are exchanged. Raised eyebrows. Curved lips.
Wyatt points at my shoulder. “I mean, you already did your big dare, after all.”
“Hundred percent,” Damian agrees. “Max already won Hellbent Night.”
There’s a moment of lingering anticipation, the air in the room buzzing but no one knowing exactly how to make the first move. The energy shift is subtle but definite, charged like the hush before a thunderstorm.
Damian’s gaze lingers on me. Jake’s hand finds mine, fingers lacing. Wyatt’s posture is easy but his focus is absolute. The quiet stretches, full and expectant. Ryder lifts my hand to his lips, kisses the inside of my wrist, and then stands, drawing me up.
The others follow, rising in silent choreography. They move around me, toward me, and I let myself go, turn myself over to their hands and familiar touches.
Wyatt’s hands are on my hips, Jake’s mouth finds mine, Damian’s fingers skim through my hair, and Ryder holds my hand.
They surround me, four men whose bodies and hearts I know as well as my own.
The energy in the room is thick with anticipation and heat, and I feel surrounded in the most loving and protective way.
Ryder, Wyatt, Damian, and Jake—my protectors, my lovers, my partners, my home.
They’re careful with me. Wyatt’s hands stay low at my hips, unbuttoning my jeans.
Jake slips behind me, his mouth warm at my neck, kissing along the curve beneath my ear while his hands work slowly at the buttons of my shirt.
Damian’s fingers skim my arms, my sides, everywhere except the shoulder blade that’s still burning and tender.
The fabric of my clothing is loosened in stages and peeled away. Ryder kisses me, letting the others undress me. He cups my face and holds it, his dark eyes burning with heat and protectiveness.
“We only do what you want, Max,” he says gently.
I grin reassuringly. “I want it all.”
After that, Ryder guides me back down onto the couch and settles between my thighs, spreading me open so all of them can see.
Damian is at my side, his hands skimming over my breasts.
Jake bends over the back of the couch, behind me, fingers in my hair, stroking softly.
Wyatt is at my left, eyes burning as he watches every touch and shiver.