Chapter Twelve
Katie
AFTER MAKING A lightning quick stop at Rondan’s…
and the reason it was quick was because I found the perfect ring within fifteen minutes which Rooster bought right then and there…
we headed to the compound. I couldn’t stop staring at the ring as we drove.
It was a ridiculously gorgeous two-carat pear shaped diamond with half-carat baguettes on each side set in a simple eighteen carat white gold.
He’d gotten down on one knee and proposed in the middle of the jewelry store and of course I’d said, ‘yes.’ Since the ring fit me perfectly, I was able to wear it home.
I loved it.
I finally looked up when the car stopped moving. “We’re here?”
“Yeah, baby, we’re here.”
“What about switching the car?”
“We weren’t being tailed, so we were good.”
“You’re sure?” I pressed.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He grinned, releasing his seatbelt. “Buzz just confirmed. Hatch has had scouts out on the roads since noon.”
“So we can just relax now?”
“Yeah, KitKat, we can just relax now.”
“Thank god.” I let out a drawn out, dramatic sigh. “I’m starving and kind of want to continue what we started at home.”
Rooster frowned.
“What?” I asked.
“You still haven’t talked about what happened earlier.”
I studied my hands. “I’d really rather not go back there.”
He laid his hand over mine and squeezed. “You’re a verbal processor, baby, so it’s gonna come out at some point. You sure you don’t wanna do that now?”
I shook my head.
“You change your mind, you let me know.”
I met his eyes. “I will.”
He studied me for a few seconds, then gave me a nod before climbing out of the car and making his way to my side while I gathered up my purse and one of my bags I’d dropped at my feet earlier.
Pulling open my door, he leaned in before I could slide out. “Katie?”
“Yes, honey?”
“I love you, you know that, right?”
“Yes, I know that.” I smiled, reaching up to tug on his beard. “Why?”
He gave me his signature lopsided grin. “Just checkin’.”
I grabbed his arm before he could grab my bags. “I love you too, you know that, right?”
“Yeah, baby, I do know that.” He kissed me quickly, then moved out of my doorway so I could slide out of the car.
“Just checking,” I parroted, and he chuckled.
Grabbing the rest of my things, we headed inside to find organized chaos with Dani leading the charge.
“Hi!” she exclaimed, rushing over to me and pulling me in for a hug. “Maisie said you were going to be bunking down here with us. I’m so glad.”
“Me too. What can we do to help?”
“Well, first of all, here’s a key to apartment four,” she said, handing me a key, then turning and handing Rooster one.
“What, seriously?” I asked. “How did we get so lucky?”
“The officers all voted and agreed if anyone deserved it, you did. We have an extra one for this very reason.”
“Wow, thanks honey.”
“Go ahead and drop off your stuff, then we can figure out what y’all can do to help.” Dani smiled. “Flea already moved your things up there, Rooster.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said.
* * *
Rooster
“Hold still, dammit.” Archer said for the at least the hundredth time.
“I am holding still,” Case grumbled back.
“Then we should duck and cover because we must be in the middle of a fucking earthquake,” Archer said.
“Maybe if you were better with that gun, I wouldn’t wriggle around involuntarily,” Case replied.
“So, you admit that you’re moving.”
“Only because you don’t know how to use that gun.”
“This is not a gun. It’s called a tattoo machine.” Archer scowled. “It’s used to create skin art. A gun is a weapon, designed to kill people. But I’ll happily switch from using one on you to the other if that’s what it’ll take to get you to stop moving.”
“Bro, you may have mad art skills, but your tableside manner needs some serious work.”
Archer and Case were both sons of Dogs of Fire officers and grew up side-by-side.
You’d swear they were brothers by the amount of shit they talked to each other.
Archer was an amazing artist, and I remember even as a little kid he could draw just about every cartoon character you could name from memory.
You could barely get two words out of the kid, but you’d think you were looking at artwork made by someone three times his age.
Apparently, his passion for drawing led him to the art of tattooing and he was now two years into a three-year apprenticeship with a celebrated local tattoo artist named Devlin Kimble, who just happened to be the wife of a Burning Saints member named Ropes.
Case, aptly nicknamed as he tended to get on one’s case, was the polar opposite of Archer.
He was a loud, boisterous, fun loving jock who seemed to always either be coming from, or headed to, a good time.
Archer was currently honing his skills by tattooing a traditional anchor on the back of Case’s right calf. At least he was trying to.
“Dude, we’re almost done. If you’re not gonna sit still, I’ll call the next name on the list,” Archer warned his squirmy client.
We were nearing the end of day-four of our mandatory club lockdown and everyone was looking for new and interesting ways to pass the time, which meant Archer’s book was filled with members and old ladies wanting fresh ink, and I was next in line.
The Club’s new Ridgefield compound was amazing.
There were enough private and bunk rooms to house all of us comfortably, and the fully stocked bar helped ease the stress of being locked down.
Last but not least, was a massive commercial kitchen complete with a stocked pantry and scullery.
The only thing we didn’t have at the compound was the freedom to leave, which I have to admit made me a little itchier than I’d expected.
Even though we were essentially sequestered in a five-star cabin retreat, we were sequestered.
A group of people whose entire lifestyle was based around freedom, locked up together for an unknown duration of time.
Of course, there was one silver lining to the whole cloudy ordeal which was my proximity to Katie.
Being this close to her all the time only made me want to be with her more and that was something I’d never experienced before.
Hell, I couldn’t even commit to only one MC.
I had to patch into two. But this was different.
After being with Katie, she was all I wanted in this world.
Thirty minutes later, I was in Archer’s chair getting some new ink of my own. A tribute to my soon-to-be new bride that I hoped she’d find endearing.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Archer said as he began his work.
“Yup, I’m gonna be a married man,” I said, unable to suppress the shit-eatin’ grin I broke out into every time I talked about Katie.
Archer chuckled. “I gotta say, I didn’t see that coming. I mean, you just blew back into town and the next minute you’re engaged.”
“Love has a way of doin’ that to a guy, that’s for damn sure,” I replied.
“I’ll be sure to watch my back,” Archer said.
“Not the marrying type, huh?” I asked.
“I’m not against the idea of settling down with one woman, I’m just not sure it’s in my cards, you know? The whole married with children thing.”
“You make marriage sound like a terminal illness. It’s not like I’m buying a mini-van or something.”
“Not today, but just you wait. Today it’s love, roses, and tattoos. Tomorrow you’ll be knee deep in diapers and sleep deprived with Cheerios stuck to your beard. I’ve watched my siblings and how quickly they folded.” Archer shuddered.
I suppressed a laugh, not wanting to fuck up Archer’s line work. “As long as Katie’s part of the deal, I’m up for it.”
“It’s sad to see someone so young cut down in the prime of his life,” Archer said solemnly.
I let out a snort. “What’s wrong with you? I happen to know Booker and your mother are still crazy about each other.”
“I know! It’s disgusting,” he replied. “They act like a couple of horny teenagers in church. It’s gross.”
“Yeah, I get it. Maybe you’re right. It’s better when parents slowly drift apart, get divorced, use their kids as pawns, and continue to resent each other to their graves. Plus, two Christmases are better than one,” I said.
“So, you do understand,” Archer said.
“You think it’s too late to call off the engagement?” I asked.
Archer shook his head. “You’re getting her name tattooed on your arm.”
“Damn it. I guess I’ll just have to go through with it and see what happens.”
“May God have mercy on your soul,” Archer said.
I laughed as I settled in and watched as he inked a KitKat bar on my left bicep. A permanent reminder of the love of my life… and favorite snack.
Every pun intended.