Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Eva Gray shook her hair from her face and bent to the arm of the biker she was currently tattooing. It was a colorful tattoo, one with skulls and roses and twining vines. He gritted his teeth as she set her needle to his skin again.
The inside of the arm was one of the worst possible places to get a tattoo. The skin was thin, the nerve endings were abundant, and it hurt like a motherfucker.
“You gonna make it, Duke?”
The old bastard snorted. “Yeah, little girl, I’ll make it.”
Eva laughed as she continued her line work. “I think you will. Tough man.”
She kind of liked Duke, as much as it was possible to like any of the Brothers. Which for her wasn’t much. But he was nice enough and never tried to cop a feel the way the others did.
The door to the studio opened and a chill breeze rolled in. It was October so the days were getting cooler, but that wasn’t the source of the coolness in the room. At least not for her. Without looking up, she knew that Brandon Cox had appeared like Satan himself.
Easy, Eva.
Yeah, she had to take it easy. Because she’d gone through a lot to get this close to the Brothers—to Brandon—and it wasn’t over yet. Years of work. No sense rushing when she was on the verge of victory.
Patience was a virtue, blah, blah, blah. It had served her well for seven long years of preparation, and it would continue to serve her until she achieved her goal.
So damn close now.
“Hey, baby, how you doin’ today?”
Eva glanced up and gave him a sugary sweet smile, though he made her stomach turn. “Just great, Brandon. How about you?”
He swaggered over and leered at her. He wouldn’t touch her. Not yet, though she suspected his patience was beginning to wear thin.
“I’m great, baby. Be even greater if you’d let me taste those sweet lips of yours.”
Revulsion slid down her spine like rancid grease. But she smiled anyway. “Can’t do that, man. You know I don’t mix business and pleasure.”
When she’d started tattooing the Brothers six months ago, she’d made it clear that if they wanted her art, they had to respect her rules.
Which had become doubly important when she moved to the compound a little over two months ago.
Since she was damn good at what she did, they went along with it—other than the various attempts at copping a feel, which she always stamped down hard.
“Honey, there are other tattoo artists.”
“But none as good as me.”
Duke snorted. “She’s got you there, boss.”
“Yeah, yeah, all right. Shame to waste that body though.”
“Is there something you wanted, Brandon?” she asked. “I’ve got another hour on Duke before I can get to you.”
“Not me, baby.” He turned and made a motion and another man walked inside. “Need you to do something for my man Jake.”
Eva’s heart skipped as her eyes met cool amber. Her jaw felt as if it had dropped to the floor. She swallowed and prayed none of her surprise showed on her face.
Jake Ryan. Dear God.
He’d been a Brother all those years ago when her sister Heather was still alive. She knew because he’d gone to her high school before he’d joined the motorcycle gang.
She’d spent hours staring at Jake from behind her glasses. Hours imagining pressing her mouth to his and tasting him. He’d been a bad boy, moody and just this side of delinquent. She’d been oh so fascinated. Her and every other girl.
He hadn’t made it through their senior year.
He’d left school at Christmas and never come back.
She’d seen him around town in his cut, the jacket that proclaimed him a Brother.
How he’d gotten a motorcycle she’d never known but just seeing him rumble through town on his Harley had been enough to set her heart racing.
Her heart was hammering now, and not because he was gorgeous. If he recognized her, the cat would be out of the bag.
But he wouldn’t. No one had. No one. Not the people she’d known in school, not her aunt who still lived in town, not a single person. She’d changed that much.
Deliberately.
Who she’d been before was dead, and there was only Eva Gray in her place. It had to be that way.
But she still dropped her gaze from Jake’s and focused on Duke’s arm. She’d bobbled the line she was working, but she could fix it.
“All right, sure. What’s he want?”
Brandon clapped Jake on the back. “He’s going to need the Brothers of Sin freshened up. It’s faded a bit since he left us for the military.”
Military? She’d wondered where he was when she’d returned to town and he hadn’t been in the club anymore. Thought maybe he’d gone to prison or something. So many of the Brothers rotated through the system like it was a revolving door. She hadn’t thought he’d be any different.
“Sure thing. Just have to finish Duke first.”
“Take your time,” Jake said. His voice was so unexpected that it hit her like a splash in an icy pool. Deep, resonant, filled with all that sexy promise she’d worshipped back in high school.
After Heather had gone inside the club, she was only allowed out with an escort. She’d visited Eva and their mother as often as she could. Sometimes Jake was the one tasked with accompanying her. He wouldn’t come inside the house, but when Eva took him a drink on the porch, he was nice to her.
She’d gone outside just to hear his voice. To bask in the smile he’d given her when he thanked her politely.
“I intend to,” she said. Because she couldn’t afford softness with these men. They were predators. One whiff of weakness and they’d rip her throat out.
Jake snorted. “I see why you hired her,” he said to Brandon. “Sexy and bitchy. She’d make a great old lady.”
She kept her mouth shut though her skin prickled at the idea of being his old lady.
No.
She was taking these motherfuckers down, and Jake was going with them. She wouldn’t feel sorry for it. He should have stayed away a few more months.
“Don’t go gettin’ any ideas,” Brandon said gruffly. “Eva treats her body like it’s a sacred temple or something. She won’t fuck a Brother. Will you, baby?”
She didn’t glance up though hate made her grip the needle tight. “Nope. I gotta stay true to my art.”
“See? Crazy bitch, but she’s good with the ink.”
“Love you too, Brandon,” she deadpanned.
One of these days she’d go too far, but for now the leader of the Brothers of Sin only laughed. Evil, murdering bastard.
He cupped his junk like he was Michael fucking Jackson. “You let me know when you’re ready for some real lovin’, baby. I’ll give it to you good and hard.”
“Sure thing.”
Not if she gave it to him good and hard first. And she wasn’t talking about sex.