Forty-Four
T orch was gone for ages, but when he returned, he led me to the bed and sat me down, crouching in front of me. I wished I could just tell him, so we could move on, and get back to doing the things we wanted with and to each other.
“Babe, I’m gonna ask you something, and if you feel comfortable answering me, just say so. I know you don’t want to break a confidence, but I think I know why you’re acting like you can’t tell me what you know.” I opened my mouth to speak, and he pressed two fingers over my lips.
“Shh babe, let me make this easy for you. Are you holding a confidence for Lissa? Yes or no.”
I cast my eyes down, not sure whether to answer him or not.
“That was Ice who came for me earlier. Can you guess why? Do you know what he might have found?” I lifted my head, suddenly wondering if he really did know what I was holding back from him. Please, please, know the same secret. I felt like Joey in Friends , when he was the only one who knew about Monica and Chandler.
“That’s what I thought, babe. Was it about a certain letter she received, from a certain person she might be related to?”
“What? I mean, um…”
“Ice found the letter, babe, and he wanted my advice on it, so I’ve read it too. I know Micro reached out, and I know Lissa’s struggling with it. Ice is putting extra cameras around her place in case he approaches her again.”
Oh thank god! “I’m so sorry, Torch.”
He cupped the back of my head and kissed my temple.
“It’s okay, babe. I love that you’re the kind of person who protects a friend’s secrets, and I know you struggled with holding it back from me, which makes me feel like maybe we’ve got a good level of trust between us. Micro reaching out is a surprise, but the fact that Ice knows, and I know, means we can keep an eye on Lissa, and make sure she’s safe.”
How could this amazing man look so frightening at first glance, and yet be so pure and considerate on the inside? If you’ve ever heard the expression about judging a book by its cover, this is why. People might cross the road to avoid him, because he’s big, and tattooed, and wearing a cut, but he was the kind of man who’d step in and help someone in trouble, rather than being the one causing it.
“I love you, Torch. Thank you for not giving up on me. I hated keeping it from you, but if I’m going to be with you, then the other old ladies have to be able to trust me too. I was really torn.”
Torch grinned widely at me. “It’s okay, babe. I’ll fuck your ass, so you can make it up to me.” Oh god, this again.
“But I’ll wait until you’re wearing my ink. Let’s hit the two things you’re dreading in one go, so they’re over, and you know they’re not as bad as you expect.”
Damn. At least I’d have time while he waited for a vote, right?
“How long until you know if your brothers will accept me as your old lady?”
His grin widened then.
“Babe, I knew by the time we left Church. You’re in.” Oh. I stared down at my body, wondering where this ‘ink’ would go, and how big it would be, and how much it’d hurt.
“Babe, breathe, it’s not pain, it’s like having deep scratches in one place for a prolonged period of time. It’s an ache at worst. Worry more about your ass, because it’s gonna be stuffed full of my thick cock, and it’s gonna stretch your poor little hole so wide.”
Torch
W ith that shit resolved, we just had to wait on the arrangements being in place, with our two house tattooists, and the plan seemed to be to do a joint ceremony, so Has and Elise would be tatted at the same time.
I was concerned about my lady watching others being tattooed, especially if Elise, for example, struggled with the pain. For some people, it really does fucking hurt, but I wanted to try and ease Grace’s fears, so she wouldn’t run from the chair before Has could get his tattoo gun anywhere near her. I was still struggling with trust issues after the shit with Micro, so I wanted Has to be the one to do hers, because even though it meant a guy had to touch her, I knew he’d treat her with respect, and be as gentle as he could, and he knew I’d break his face if he didn’t.
Grace was having breakfast with the other old ladies, hopefully so they could set her mind at ease about the tattooing part of it, because I was still scared she’d back out. I was sitting at the bar, nursing a cup of coffee after a mostly sleepless night, because guess what, when you see your best friend nearly die, after him turning out to be a psycho, nightmares are a thing.
“A word, man?” Rocket sat down beside me, and nodded at Tommy to get him a coffee, and then waved him away, so clearly this was something personal.
“What’s up?”
“You got a problem with me?” I swivelled on the stool so I could look at him, because this was coming from nowhere, as far as I was concerned.
“No, why? You got one with me?”
He scratched at his beard, but he was agitated as fuck, and that was just one of his tells.
“Does Has have one with me?”
“You’d have to talk to him, man, but I thought you guys were tight. What’s going on? I’m not exactly in the mood for twenty questions here.”
He gripped his coffee mug tightly, glaring down at it like somehow it was to blame for whatever the fuck was going on in his head. Last I heard, he was sneaking around with some lady, and he’d seemed in a pretty good place, all things considered.
“How are things with your lady?”
His eyes met mine again. “Don’t change the subject, Torch. Suddenly I’m persona non fucking grata, and I need to know why. I’m not Micro. I haven’t done shit like he did, and I never would, so why the fuck am I suddenly not allowed to tattoo women? You think I’m gonna mess with someone else’s old lady? I’m a better fucking man than that.” He’d lifted his coffee, but he slammed it down again, as more aggression made its way into his words. Fuck .
“Rocket-”
“If your old ladies have some kind of fear of me, you need to tell them I’m cool. I’d never be a danger to a woman, and I’ve tattooed a lot of them over the years. You want fucking references from a bunch of them first?” I never expected him to even realise we were pulling this shit, or that it’d bother him, but maybe that’s because of how my head’s been firmly up my ass for ages now.
“Jesus, I’m sorry, man. That’s not what’s going on at all.” Or was it? I lifted my shoulders slightly, because maybe I was bullshitting him right now.
“Okay, look, Grace, in particular, knows Has better than you, and she barely knows him either. It’s a comfort thing-”
“Plus you trust him more than me.” He got up, looking about ready to walk away, and I felt like a major asshole for not sorting this shit out sooner, because clearly he’d been stewing over it.
“Rocket-”
“You wanna know how many old ladies I’ve been allowed to tattoo? Two, that’s how many. Am I such a fucking monster to these women? Or am I just so shit at tattoos, my fucking lifelong career, by the way, that you don’t want me doing them?”
I stood up too, because something about having another man hovering over me like that didn’t feel so good right now. We were all still fucked up over Micro, and tempers were short, but this wasn’t an actual thing that anyone had been bothered about, right?
“Look, man, if you can stop talking over me for five fucking minutes, I’ll explain.”
“Forget it. Why don’t you see about getting Has to tat himself and you at your ceremony too, because I’m out.”
Jesus fuck. I watched him walking away, because I had no idea what to say to fix this, and surely it wasn’t just on me anyway. Clearly we’d been making him feel like a fucking monster for ages, but what was the alternative? Let him put his hands on my old lady? Not in my fucking lifetime.