Chapter Nine
Moth
“What happened to not interacting with her?” Fly said, running a hand over his hair.
The buzz of the tattooist’s gun was soothing as I lounged in the leather seat next to my friend, watching the artist put the finishing touches to the lettering on his arm.
When we’d escaped hell, we’d vowed to never allow someone to control us again. The words that Fly had just had inscribed on him were already on Ant and Spider. It was my turn next.
Never bow to the unjust.
It had been our motto when we’d run away from home at the age of eleven. All five of us had met at meetings that our parents frequented often, becoming fast friends. Our world had been torn apart on the day that Jack had been killed, but we’d stuck together, brothers despite the tragedy.
“I can’t help it,” I replied, “She’s an incredible manipulator. I almost want to try and get to know her mind, just to destroy it.”
My bravado was short lived as the tattooist turned to me, holding up his gun. “Just going to have a quick break, clean up, and then we’ll finish up your Moth.”
Inclining my head, I glared at Fly when he raised his eyebrows.
“You’re fucking drawn to her, man.” He shrugged and widened his eyes at me. “Nothing wrong with playing with your prey.”
A grin spread on my lips and I looked over his head at the photos of the many women who had been tattooed in the shop. Of course, there were men there, but my eyes were drawn to the ladies. Except, no woman had sent my dick hard with just a look. The bitch, Alia, had a way of getting under my skin, despite my hatred for her.
“I need to know what happened that day,” I muttered, moving when the tattooist came back and indicated I took off my jacket.
Doing as I was told, I slung it over the back of the chair and sat back, flexing my arm to prepare for the pain.
“Alright, big man,” the tattooist joked, “no need to tense like that. You know I’ll shred you if you do.”
Smiling, I looked back at Fly, only flinching slightly when the needle sank into the skin on the back of my shoulder. The huge moth was more intricate than the small one on my neck, representing the bug I’d chosen when we’d run away from home. On the other shoulder blade was a wasp, to honour my twin brother.
Fly reached for an energy drink and took a swig. “Do you have a plan? You could get close to her, lure her into a trap and then bam… take the bitch out.”
The tattooist raised his eyebrows. When the four of us had walked in several years ago, he’d quickly learned that we were big business, loyal friends, and hard bastards who were questionable sometimes. We’d often planned our biggest escapades when sitting in his chairs. Lucky for us, he was just as loyal.
“She has a stalker ex.” I stared at the wall as the needle glided over the hardest part of bone in my shoulder. “Her nerves are already wrecked. There’s no fun if I added to that, so…”
“So my idea is a good one.” Fly tapped a tune on the arm of his chair. “Get close, make her feel safe, and then take her down, just like she did Wasp.”
My eyes drifted closed at the mention of his name. “It’s a tried and tested revenge method, that’s for sure. She is vulnerable. I could find out the truth of how and why she lit that fire. Then decide her fate from there.”
Smacking the arm of the chair, Fly stood. “Great stuff. That bitch not only took your brother, she sent us all to hell. I’ll never forgive her for outing us to the police. If it wasn’t for her…” He stood in front of the long mirror and turned to look at his back… “we wouldn’t have these scars.”
My gaze traced the ridged scars that crisscrossed over the skin between his hips and shoulders. The most sensitive area of the back. The one place they’d whipped us the most.
I shook my head to dislodge the memory of those days. The day we’d escaped that place had been the day I’d sworn to forget what had happened there. The other guys though, they were still haunted and ready for us to get our revenge… when the time was right.
Looking over my shoulder at the tattooist, I narrowed my gaze. “You must think we’re the most fucked up bunch of dudes you’ve ever tattooed.”
Chuckling, he shrugged. “I’m not going to lie, you guys have said some shit that has raised my eyebrows. However, if a woman did me wrong and it resulted in the death of my brother… I’d be ready to take her down, ex stalker or not.”
I faced forward again and stared into space. The man understood, like any man worth anything to his family would. Except, the feel of her lips on mine, hot and ready, took this game to a whole new level. Fly’s suggestion to entice her was tempting to my sick and twisted mind. It wasn’t like she didn’t want it, she was attracted to the danger, always had been.
The door chimed as it opened. Ant’s frame filled the doorway, blocking out the light as Spider came in after him.
“Fly,” Ant’s bark raised my gaze to him. “You forgot about the little meeting yesterday.”
I cringed, apologising to Dave, the tattooist, who stood back and raised his eyebrows. I never flinched when the man was inking me, but it had been my fault that we’d missed the meeting the day before.
Fly squared up as Ant approached him. His shirtless frame, all ribbed and muscular, would’ve threatened an ordinary man, but Ant was a bastard and just as big. They were prone to friendly competition in our gym in the basement, much to our amusement.
“Okay, alpha males,” Dave interrupted the stand-off, “I’m trying to concentrate and the testosterone is interfering with my creativity.”
A smirk crossed my face as Ant begrudgingly backed down, a smile coming to his lips when he faced the man who owned the shop.
“Sorry, my friend,” he said, “I can’t help that my business associate is a cunt sometimes.”
“Meh.” Dave shrugged, which he seemed to do a lot. “Every man is sometimes, isn’t he?”
Ant blinked at Dave as he leant closer to my back and carried on with the detailing of the moth. I arched my eyebrows when Ant narrowed his gaze on me.
“It’s my fault,” I confessed. “Got caught up and didn’t make it in time to go with him.”
The man quirked his eyebrow before going over to the small waiting sofa and sitting down. “Well, you lost us the contract with the recording studio.”
Fly pulled his T-shirt over his head as he replied. “Plenty more where that came from.”
“Be careful,” Spider remarked, sitting next to Ant, “We have to keep our heads down, even if we do have a lot of interest.”
Waving a hand in dismissal, Fly rolled his eyes at the business minded of us… Spider was also the most paranoid. Although, I didn’t blame him. He had the most to lose if we were ever caught.
“I know,” Fly said sarcastically, “we have to make sure no one knows who we really are. As if I haven’t done that for the last ten years.”
Closing my eyes, I tried to block out their bickering. Fly was starting to get frustrated with being so closely tied to the boys. We’d sworn allegiance, no matter what, but Spider’s paranoia and Ant’s brutishness had heightened recently. It wasn’t surprising considering my mother’s text and Alia’s appearance.
Alia’s face came into my mind and I swallowed. The memory of her pressing herself against me in the dark, her tits warm and plump as they squashed into me. Fuck, I could’ve taken her, right there against the wall, whether she really wanted it or not.
“What’s got your cheeks red?” Ant’s voice cut through my guilty pleasure.
Grinning to myself, I shook my head. There was no way I was going to let Ant know the game I was about to play. I’d stood on the bridge a few nights ago, ready to join Wasp. However, Alia had crashed straight into my life, stopping me from leaving. She’d played a dangerous game when we were thirteen and since then, she’d gone on with her life, no doubt barely thinking about The Bug Gang – yeah, the shitty names we’d called ourselves when we were eleven had stuck – and the consequences of her actions. My brother’s spirit had clearly sent her to make sure I enacted my vow to him. I promised I would make the person responsible pay…
It had been fifteen years and it was finally time.