Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
INK
“ W hy do you keep checkin’ your phone? I thought you broke it off with what’s her face,” I ask, taking a swig of my drink.
I’m not one to pry into someone’s personal life, but even a man can only take so much suspense. He’s probably checked his phone damn near twenty times since he sat down.
After storming out of the shop before I lost my shit, I found myself at DD’s.
Shortly after that, Gage caught up with me and parked on the stool next to mine.
It wasn’t my finest moment, but I can’t stand being lied straight to my face.
She may not want to openly share why she’s here, but omitting information when someone asks is just as bad as lying.
What I want to do is tie her to a chair and interrogate her like I usually would until I get the information I want. Apparently, that’s for club business only. Or so Scotch says.
I can’t figure out why I care so much. It’s messing with my head and that’s a headache I can’t afford.
“Waiting for Sutton to text me,” Gage answers, taking a swig of his beer .
What the fuck?
A low rumble starts deep in my chest that makes Delaney stop shaking a drink mid-air and looking over our way, alert and searching for the fight I’m sure she’s assuming is about to happen.
“It’s not what you think, Ink. I just wanted to make sure she got home okay.”
“Why wouldn’t she get home okay?” My eyes narrow.
How close are these two?
Gage shrugs. “I’m not saying she wouldn’t, but her walking by herself at night isn’t the safest.”
“Have you already forgotten what happened to me?” Wren asks as she appears behind the rail with fresh ones for Gage and I.
Wren got into a freak situation a few months back.
She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that ended with a psycho trying to kill her.
Ironically, after all of that, it ended up being the right place at the right time because she and Matteo are still going strong.
They give Evan and Cain a run for their money.
“I don’t think any of us are goin’ to forget that, darlin’. I’m surprised your man hasn’t made you quit yet.” Matteo isn’t exactly the “make my woman work” type of guy.
“I’ve got her down to one day a week,” Matteo answers like he knows it’s about to be zero as he strolls in, heading straight for Wren.
Turning back to Gage, I ask, “Why is she walkin’?”
“I don’t know. I could tell she wasn’t too keen on explaining past that, so I didn’t pry.”
So no rich dad then.
“Where does she live?” I ask, trying to think of an apartment building close by. There’s Forrest Glenn, but even that place is kind of a hike from the shop.
“Don’t know that either.” Gage shrugs as he flags Delaney down. “We need some shots!”
I’m about to protest because I have a client at noon tomorrow and the humming of a tattoo gun for six hours straight when you’re hungover is almost enough to do you in, but I don’t stop him .
Maybe a few drinks will help get Sutton out of my head.
“Are you sure, baby?” she whines.
God, it doesn’t fucking stop. Why do women think talking like this is attractive?
One thing turned into another last night, and Gage and I ended up bringing a few girls back to the clubhouse. The girl with blonde hair that reminded me of Sutton’s ended up in my bed.
“Yes,” I roughly reply.
This was a mistake.
A major fucking mistake.
“But you didn’t get off,” she whines again. “Let me help you.” Her boney fingers feel like icicles on my skin as they snake over my hip, trail along the cut V, heading straight towards my dick.
My hand darts out, roughly grabbing her wrist and holding it in place before it can go any further south. “I said go. That means get the fuck out of my bed.” I apply just enough pressure for her to get me but not leave a mark.
Her bottom lip pouts out at being denied. She thinks she’s being cute, but all it does is make me want to kick her out that much more. What the fuck was I thinking last night?
“Fine,” she replies snottily, ripping her wrist out of my grasp. “Next time you want a good lay, don’t think you can come to me.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” I reply dryly.
She huffs as she pulls up her shorts that don’t cover her ass. Her ass isn’t as great as I thought it was when I was drunk.
She was a mistake. I wanted to get my head off of Sutton and thought she would do it. The second her injected lips touched dick, I lost it. Went limp as fuck. I blamed it on the whiskey but that shit’s embarrassing even if it was with what the fuck her name is.
“You know,” she calls over her shoulder with one hand on the door handle, “you should think about how you treat me. I don’t think it would help your reputation if everyone knew you can’t keep it up long enough to have your dick sucked.”
“Did you just threaten me?” I bite out, making her eyes widen in fear. My voice sounds like a whip. “You are no one here. If I don’t want you here or at DD’s, guess what? You’re fuckin’ gone. You fuck with me I will fuck you so hard you’ll never come out of it. Get the fuck out.”
She’s shaking as she throws open the door and runs out without looking back.
“Thanks for closing the door,” I say, sarcasm laced in my voice as my head falls back and hits the pillow.
The sooner I get some pain meds in me to help with this hangover and get ready, the sooner I can get to the shop for more answers.
I’m the first one at the shop which never happens. Even with me being the only one here, an eerie silence has clogged the air.
I turn the light in the hallway and my room on, leaving the ones out front for Sutton.
Turning on the music in my room, I try to tune out the gnawing feeling that something bad is about to happen while I set up my station.
Most people would chalk something like this up to being tired or having an off day, but not me.
Not in this life.
Ignoring a gut feeling is asking to get your shit rocked.
Before I know it, I’ve zoned out while setting everything up. I didn’t hear Sutton come in and I sure as hell didn’t hear her come into my room until a throat clears behind me, scaring the fuck out of me.
On instinct, my hand snakes under my gray thermal, reaching for my Glock as I whip around.
Sutton gasps as her eyes lock on the butt of my gun, where my hand is ready to pull it out, widening .
Exhaling heavily through my nose, I lower my hand and pull my shirt back over it. “What’s up?”
Poor thing looks like she’s seen a ghost.
“Were you going to shoot me?” she whispers in shock, eyes still locked on the now covered gun.
What the fuck.
Was I going to shoot her?
“No,” I grunt. “I thought I was the only one here is all.”
“Why do you have a gun?” She still won’t look at me. Her body language is screaming that she’s scared. She’s locked up so fucking tight.
“Protection. You think I just go around shootin’ people?” I said it as a joke, but now that it’s out there, part of me hopes she doesn’t think that’s what I do.
She shrugs in response.
Fucking shrugs.
“Jesus Christ, no. I don’t do that. What’s the matter with you?” I wince as she flinches. I wished I could take it back as the words were coming out of my mouth.
“Your client is here,” she says as she spins around on her heel and walks back out to the front. All the emotions I saw just a second ago vanished.
What the fuck?
I trail behind her up to the front. My client is talking to me and I’m nodding along, but I don’t hear a word.
I can’t tear my eyes away from Sutton behind the desk, looking dead to the world.
For someone who was so full of optimism, she seems empty.
Almost as if she’s lost in a nightmare. That’s something I’m all too familiar with.
For the first time, I hate that I designed the shop to have rooms and didn’t do an open floor plan. I’ve decided the best way to try to figure her out is by observing her. Asking her anything is useless. She’s not a good liar, but it’s fucking cute when she thinks she’s pulling one over on you.
The day passes by quickly once I zone out on the piece I’m working on. It isn’t until I’m cleaning up that I hear Sutton’s laugh ring out, echoing down the hall. Gage and Tommy’s laughs follow in unison.
Fuckers.
Before I can stop myself, I’m stomping up there.
“You guys done for the day?” I interrupt, not giving the slightest fuck with how rude I’m being.
Sutton’s eyes widen slightly as she takes a slight step back from the huddle around the front desk. Gage and Tommy are looking at me like they know something that I don’t.
“Yeah, dude. We’re done,” Gage says, before turning back to Sutton. “I’ll take you home tonight.”
A look of panic flashes across her face before she gives him a tight smile. But I know what I saw. “Thank you, but I’m okay, really. It’s not a far walk and I need the exercise.”
At that I snort because no, she fucking doesn’t.
I may not be a fan of her get-up, but you’d have to be blind to not see what she has hiding underneath those ugly fucking clothes.
She hasn’t shown a hint of titties yet, but I bet there’s at least a D cup under there.
Her ass fills out those ugly khaki pants nicely too.
Not too large, but not too small. Looks like the perfect handful.
“I have nothing to do tonight. I’m taking you home,” Gage says, tone final.
Sutton opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off.
“I’ll take you home.”
Gage and Sutton both look at me with wide eyes.
I can’t believe I said that. I look at Gage, hoping he will help me out, but do I actually want him to?
This gives me a chance to scope Sutton out more.
I always run a background check on new hires just because I want nothing or anyone bothering the club or the shop, but with her I didn’t.
Maybe that’s why I can’t get her out of my head.
Once I find out my usual shit I look for, she’ll be out.
“Like I told Gage, I appreciate your offer, but I’m perfectly capable of walking home,” she says, this time with a little more force behind her tone.
My brow arches. “I didn’t ask what you were capable of. In fact, I don’t think I asked if I could take you home. I told you. So let’s fuckin’ go.” I don’t wait for her to respond before heading toward the back alley. “Gage, close up!”
“There’s no talking him out of this, is there?” I hear Sutton ask Gage.
“I don’t got all day, Sutton!”
Her resigned sigh almost makes me feel bad for forcing her to let me take her home.
Almost.
Curiosity has won with this mystery of a woman.
By the time she makes it outside, I’m already on my bike.
“Hop on!” I yell over the motor.
Sutton takes a small step forward but hesitates, her face full of uncertainty.
“Thank you so much, but I’m fine walking.” She tries to wave me off.
“I’m not sayin’ it again, darlin’. Hop on!” She doesn’t move as she stares at the bike. I’ve never had to try this hard to get a girl on the back of my bike. This baby is a pussy magnet.
“Have you ever been on a bike before?” I ask. Sutton shakes her head slowly, almost as if she’s embarrassed. Jesus fucking Christ. Of course she hasn’t. Has this girl done anything in life? “Put your foot on that peg, hands on my shoulders, and swing the other leg over.”
Her hands gently rest on my shoulders as she steps on the peg and swings her leg over.
She’s on the back of my bike, but she might as well be in a different country with how fast her hands dropped from my shoulders.
The draft I feel from the cool night air flowing between us tells me she’s scooted as far back as she can on the seat.
“Hold on!” I yell over the loud rumbling of the bike.
Sutton hesitates before loosely wrapping her arms around my waist. She threads her fingers together just above my belly button, barely touching my cut.
“Hold on!”
“I am!”
Her arms stay loose around me.
“I don’t bite, darlin’! Well, unless you want me to!” I can feel her stiffen against me. Grabbing hold of both of her wrists, I pull her arms out in front of me, dragging her body flush up against my back. I can feel her pretty tits straining against that ugly ass fucking top.
“Wrap me up like you never want to let me go and not like you fucking hate me!”
I feel her snicker against my back as we take off. Her arms tighten around me every time I speed up. By the time we are coming to a stop at our third light, she’s loosened up enough to take her head off the back of my shoulder.
Tapping her knee to get her attention, I yell back to her, “Need to know where I’m goin’, darlin’.”
The light turns green before she answers, and I have no choice but to go with the flow of traffic. Pulling off into the nearest parking lot, I cut the engine.
“I need to know where I’m goin’,” I repeat, looking back over my shoulder, thinking she couldn’t hear me over the pipes. Sutton’s eyes are locked on a crack in the pavement that has a weed growing out of it.
“Sutton,” I try again.
If I hadn’t been studying her face, I would have missed her jaw tightening and the large swallow. She looks exactly like the pieces of shit do when they cross my brothers and I.
Guilty.
“Is there a reason you don’t want to tell me where you live?” It never once crossed my mind that she was planted based on the way she looks and acts. There’s no way in hell someone like her runs with someone like me, but I guess that would be the point, right?
Sutton’s eyes stay trained on the stupid fucking weed. She’s going to learn something real quick about me today. I hate being ignored. Everyone deserves a response. Even if you have to tell them to fuck off respectfully.
“Look at me,” I growl, raising her chin up with two fingers until she’s forced to make eye contact with me.
The sadness swimming through the swirls of brown, green, and gold has my heart stopping.
Shit.
“I’m staying at the motel on the other side of town,” she says in a tone that’s barely above a whisper.
What?
I drop my fingers from her face. “The one by DD’s?”
Sutton slowly nods her head, her attention focused back on the weed. Keeping the bike balanced, I lean over and pluck it out of the ground, crumpling it in my hand and chucking it.
“Was that really necessary?” Her eyebrows furrow. “That weed did nothing to you.”
“Kept you from looking at me,” I grunt. “Let’s get you home.”
“You know where it is?” she whispers.
“Yeah, darlin’. I know where it is.”
Starting my bike this time, I don’t have to tell her to hold on because she never let go of me. Pulling out onto the main street, I take off in the direction toward the motel. The entire ride there, I can’t stop wondering why a girl like Sutton is staying at a shithole like that.