Chapter Nine
Indie
I was still here.
I had decided days ago to leave. To pack up and get the hell out of Dodge. Only, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Something changed, and I wasn’t sure what it was.
Gunner closed the shop for three days. And for three days I argued with myself about leaving. Yet I was still here. Still living in my small apartment on the third floor of a building on the edge of town in Diamond Creek.
But why?
I yanked open the door of the tattoo shop and stepped inside. Ignoring Gunner’s greeting, I walked to the back and shoved my things into the locker, then made my way to the front desk to look over my schedule.
“I told your clients you would call them to reschedule their appointments.”
I glared at the giant oaf as he spoke to me. Refusing to answer him, I pushed past him to ready my station for my first client of the day.
“Morning, Indie.”
I turned my brightest smile toward Bruce. “Morning, Bruce. I hope you’re feeling better.”
“I am.” Bruce looked between me and Gunner before adding, “I heard what happened. Your eye doesn’t look too bad.”
“Well, that’s what happens when you force someone to hole up in their apartment for days so their clients don’t see them at their worst.”
“Indie,” Gunner warned.
Ignoring him, I continued on, “We can’t have customers knowing that people are human after all.
I was all set to come up with some outlandish story about my black eye, something that made me look like a real badass.
You know, maybe answer everyone’s questions with ‘you should see the other guy’ kind of shit.
But someone made that decision for me, as if I were a child who wasn’t capable of taking care of themselves. ”
“I will not fucking apologize for caring about you.”
I spun around and yelled, “I didn’t ask you to care!” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Looking over my shoulder at Bruce, I said, “I’m glad you’re back.” Then, I turned my back on Gunner and got ready for my day.
The day sucked.
It was long and filled with clients that had been moved and rescheduled. Phone calls from pissed-off customers that had to wait a few extra days.
I kept asking myself why I was still here. Why hadn’t I moved on? I didn’t have an answer. At least not one I wanted to admit. I liked it here. Diamond Creek had become the home I was looking for in the few months I had been here.
I liked Haizley and the old ladies. I liked the brothers who had come in for tattoos and piercings. I’d gotten to know a few of them, like Romeo and Ace. Winchester was cool. His brother Hudson was gorgeous, but definitely too old for me. I’d had enough of older men to last a fucking lifetime.
I was even willing to admit I had a fondness for the grumpy green giant. I hated being mad at him, but my pride wouldn’t just let him get away with being controlling. I’d been controlled enough in my life.
The reason I accepted the job was that, unlike at many studios, I was my own boss. Gunner didn’t pay my salary; I paid him a rental fee for my station. The only rules I had were the hours the studio was open. And even that could be worked out with enough notice.
I made my schedule.
No one else.
So, after a long day at work, I decided a drink was needed. I yanked open the door to the Queen’s Diamond and smiled when I saw Grace behind the bar, and Johnny in his usual spot at the end.
Planting my butt on the stool next to him, I bumped his shoulder with mine.
“Why the long face?”
“Hey, Indie,” he greeted before taking a long sip of his beer. Johnny didn’t usually drink beer when he was watching Grace, so I knew something was up. “Just a long day.”
“Ugh, tell me about it. I was playing catch-up all day with angry clients Gunner had rescheduled.”
“Your eye is looking better.”
I reached up without thinking. The bruise was still there, but it had faded enough that I could hide it behind makeup.
“Hey, girl, what can I get you?”
“The usual?”
Grace winked and said, “You got it.” She disappeared to the other end of the bar before coming back a few minutes later. “One rum and Coke.”
“Thanks, babe.”
I took a sip of my drink and smiled as the bubbly soda popped on my tongue. There wasn’t a drop of rum in my glass, but no one needed to know that I didn’t drink.
When a child was plied with alcohol at a young age, one of two things happened. Either they became alcoholics, or they were turned off it completely. Thankfully, I was in the latter camp, which was a miracle considering I was pretty sure my father was a drunk.
When I first came to Diamond Creek, I came to the bar to try to meet people.
I got to talking with Grace and told her I didn’t really drink, but didn’t want to have to always explain why I wasn’t drinking.
She understood and told me to always order with her and ask for my usual.
She would bring me a plain Coke and keep my secret.
Grace said bartenders were a lot like therapists. They kept the secrets people trusted them with. I wondered briefly if I could trust her with my secret, but quickly decided it wasn’t worth the risk.
No one could know who I was or where I had come from.
“I heard you laid into Gunner pretty good,” Johnny said.
“He’s an asshole who needs to learn to stay out of people’s lives.”
Loud laughter met my ears as both Johnny and Grace threw their heads back. Grace had tears slipping down her cheeks as she laughed.
“That will never happen. Why do you think he was made SAA?” Johnny said. “The man thinks everyone he meets is his responsibility.”
“It’s kind of sweet when you think about it,” Grace said, swiping an errant tear away. “Sometimes it’s nice to know there is someone out there looking out for you.”
Johnny cocked an eyebrow at Grace, and she muttered, “Shut up,” as she went to take orders.
“Grace is right, though. Those of us without any family need someone looking out for us.”
I didn’t respond to what Johnny said. Maybe he was right, but what Gunner did wasn’t just looking out for me. He was trying to control me. Just like every other man in my life.
Apollo didn’t try to control you. In fact, he let you go.
While it was true he didn’t come after me, he still made the decision for me to become a tattoo artist and piercer. Sure, it made a way for me to support myself, but it still wasn’t my decision.
That’s your stupid pride talking.
I drank my soda as I thought about everything that had happened over the last few days. Maybe it was my pride, but pride was the only thing I had that was truly mine. It was the one thing no one had ever been able to take away from me, and something I would hold on to until my dying breath.
“Any news about who the guy was?” I asked, changing the subject. I didn’t want to admit that Johnny might be right. That maybe having someone like Gunner looking out for me hit me somewhere in my chest.
“Couldn’t tell you even if I knew.”
Of course, I knew that. The MC didn’t share club business with their old ladies, let alone someone completely on the outside. And that was where I was.
On the outside.
Story of my life. I was always on the outside looking in. For the past five years, I had caught glimpses of what it might feel like to be a part of something. But every time I got close, I would run.
Which again begged the question: why was I still here?
What kept me from running? I looked up as the door opened, and I took a deep inhale.
My skin prickled as three men walked in, and I had a feeling one of them was the reason I hadn’t left yet.
That somehow I was drawn to him, an invisible tether that I couldn’t bring myself to cut.
I watched as Mimic looked around the bar, his eyes settling on me. He made his way toward me, a deep scowl on his face as he looked at Johnny beside me.
“Asshole,” Johnny muttered under his breath before taking a drink from the bottle in his hand.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
I cocked my head as I looked at Mimic. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m having a drink with a friend.”
“He’s not your fucking friend. He’s a prospect that has a job to do.”
The bottle in Johnny’s hand hit the bar top loudly, and he sneered, “He is sitting right here doing his fucking job.”
Grace hurried over and growled at both of them. “Take this shit outside or I’m throwing you both out.”
Mimic tore his gaze from Johnny and scowled at Grace. “You don’t have the balls to kick us out.”
“Wanna fucking bet? What the fuck do you think will happen if I call King and tell him the Silver Shadows are banned from the bar?”
Mimic narrowed his eyes at Grace, and Winchester grabbed his arm. “Come on, man, don’t start shit with her. You won’t fucking win.”
“Fucking punk ass kid.”
I swung my head around and glared at Johnny. “What’s going on between you two?”
He was only two years older than Mimic, but I had never seen Johnny angry like this.
He was a good guy, always smiling and talking with anyone who sat down next to him.
I knew he had a dark side; I could sense it despite his easy smiles and jokes.
It was the reason I sat with him when I came in here. I knew no one would bother me.
“That fucking patch went to his head.”
I turned my head looking for Mimic and Winchester, who sat at a table with Shotgun. Women had already surrounded them. A feeling I’d never experienced in my life bubbled up inside me. I refused to name it for what it was. I’d felt jealousy before. But not like this.
Every time I saw a child in the park playing with their mom and dad, I was hit with jealousy, but also relief.
I was jealous of their innocence, but thankful they hadn’t had it stolen from them.
Jealous that their parents were able to protect them from the evil in the world, but also thankful they had been protected.
It was always a one-two punch. Jealousy—they had something that had been stolen from me, but gratitude for that very same thing.
As my gaze fell across the room, I was again hit with a one-two punch, only this was different. A woman with long dark hair stood close to Mimic, running her hand down his chest. The first thing I felt was jealousy that she was touching him. The next thing I felt was rage.
She was touching what was mine.
He must have felt my eyes on him because he turned and looked over his shoulder. His eyes caught mine, and he grinned. He grabbed the woman’s hand, removing it from his chest and placing it on the table. Then he leaned over and whispered something in her ear.
Her eyes followed his to where I sat. They grew wide comically, making me think of an old cartoon I watched as a child. Her eyes practically bulged out of her head as she nodded and walked away.
Mimic turned his back on me and gave his attention to the brothers he was with, ignoring me the rest of the night.