Chapter Four
“I got a job.”
Vette had come home, and by the time she’d showered, Shiloh had dinner ready. She raised an eyebrow, first at the food and then at the statement.
“That was fast.”
“An opportunity came up.”
Vette sat down, and they began to eat.
“What type of opportunity?”
“Tattoo shop. I’m taking care of the front. Appointments. Money. That kind of stuff.”
“Think you’ll like it?”
Shiloh thought for a moment. “Yeah. I think so. Besides, I’ve always wanted a tattoo.”
“I was gonna ask if you have one.”
“No, my—” She stopped what she was going to say. Glancing down at her food, she suddenly lost her appetite.
Vette reached over and took hold of her hand. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”
“It’s ridiculous,” Shiloh grumbled.
“It’s understandable.”
“Well, anyway, I think I’ll enjoy my new job.”
“Where’s it at?”
“West Lincoln Way.”
Vette frowned. “How are you going to get there?”
“Um, the manager is going to give me a ride until I can get a car or something.”
“Wait, I know that place. Isn’t it owned by the Sons of Sin?”
“I don’t know about that. I was hired by the manager.”
“Who’s a member, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I need to warn you how dangerous they are?”
“Kinda figured that out on my own,” Shiloh said. “Believe me, I have no desire to get involved. It’s just a job.”
Vette nodded. “All right. But if it’s not what you thought, you can call me, and I’ll come pick you up.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
****
That night Shiloh tossed and turned. Earlier thoughts of her stepfather brought back her nightmares.
Her mother had blamed her for her father’s death.
Then, when she married Lawrence, he declared she needed punishment for her sins.
She’d been nothing more than a child who had lost her father, who had seen him die, and then told over and over it was her fault. It had messed her up for years.
It took Herculean strength to push those memories into the far corners of her mind.
Nothing good came with remembering. Finally, at four in the morning, Shiloh knew there was no way she was going to sleep.
She rose and went into the kitchen to make herself a mug of herbal tea, then headed outside to sit on the porch swing.
The early morning was cool, but not uncomfortable. About an hour later, Vette joined her, wearing her robe and slippers, yawning widely.
“Morning,” she greeted. “Why’re you up so early?”
“Bad dream,” Shiloh admitted. “I didn’t bother you, did I?”
“Nah. Got called in to work. Mare giving birth. I’ll probably end up crashing at the office.”
“Okay. I start my job today.”
“Let me know if you like it,” Vette said, heading back inside. About twenty minutes later, she reappeared dressed for work. “Sorry, I’ve got to run.”
“No worries.” Shiloh waved her hand. “I’ll probably be late myself.”
“Good luck,” she said, and gave her thumbs up.
Shiloh sat out there until her tea was long gone and the sun crested from the east. Her stomach growled, and she went inside to cook some breakfast. Again, memories tried to creep into her head, but she pushed them ruthlessly down. Refused to let him pay rent in her thoughts.
At noon, she heard a motorcycle and guessed it was Jade coming to pick her up.
She had no idea why she thought he’d bring a car, but no matter.
She’d never ridden a bike before, but how hard could it be?
She left the house and locked up just as Jade turned off his bike.
He took off his helmet and smiled at her.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hello.” She came to stand beside him. He twisted to unhook a helmet from the backrest and held it out to her, and she took it. “What’s this?”
He stared at it for a moment. “Looks like a helmet to me.”
Her cheeks heated, and it had nothing to do with the sunshine.
“If you like the helmet, you’re gonna love this.” He reached inside his vest and pulled out a slim smartphone. “It’s for you.”
Confused, she looked from it to him. “What do you mean it’s for me?”
“I need you to have a phone. It’s a requirement for the job. Because of that, the shop pays for it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that the truth, or do you think I’m a charity case?”
He didn’t blink or look away. “Charity for what? Like I said, it’s a requirement.”
The need to argue was strong, but the last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize the job. Plus, she didn’t want to offend a member of a dangerous motorcycle club.
“Okay,” she said, backing down. She shoved the phone in the back pocket of her jeans, then stuck the helmet on, before looking at the pedal to see how she got on.
“Place your foot there,” he said, pointing. “Then swing the other one over.”
She did as instructed and slid in behind him. Not knowing where to place her hands, she gripped his side. He grabbed them and brought them around his waist.
“Hold on,” he told her. He started the bike, backed down the driveway, and then they were off.
At first a little nervous, her excitement soon took over. The wind in her hair, the cool air brushing over her skin. When the bike throttled down the road, it was like catching fire. Exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
Finally, he slowed and turned into a more forgotten area of Cheyenne.
A large abandoned factory held many broken windows.
Across the street was a strip mall that had a small appliance repair shop, a thrift store, and the tattoo parlor named The Inkpot.
He pulled up in front and cut the engine.
When he tapped her leg, she dismounted the same way she got on, surprised when her knees were a little shaky.
He flipped out the kickstand and got off before pulling off his helmet. She did the same.
“How was your first ride?”
“It was amazing,” she said, enthused. It was the first thing that had made her feel alive in quite a while.
He smiled. “Come on. Let’s open up, and I’ll show you around.”
When he reached for her hand, she unthinkingly allowed it, still riding high on the endorphin rush. It wasn’t until he let go to unlock the front door that she realized she hadn’t freaked out from his touch.
Once inside, he turned off the alarm and flipped on the lights.
The tattoo studio had the reception in the front with a half-wall separating it from the four working bays beyond.
Examples of tattoos and drawings were over one wall, while the opposite wall had the logo spray-painted on it.
Several seats rested by the bay window where a variety of magazines rested.
“I think it’s pretty much explanatory,” he said. “This is the part you’re not going to like.”
He opened the filing cabinet, and sure as shit, receipts and invoices were tossed in haphazardly without rhyme or reason.
“Oh my god,” she muttered. “You weren’t kidding.”
“There’s the appointment book. Today it’s going to be me, and two other artists named Bowie and Apollo. Our fourth artist is Jake, but he’s taking a few days off.”
“Okay.”
“If you look in front of the appointment book, it’ll give a time frame needed for jobs. Small, medium, large. If they bring a drawing or want us to come up with a drawing. Sometimes we’ll pencil in our clients or collaborate with you on time. Stuff like that.”
“You don’t use a computer appointment program?”
“Nah,” he said. “The ledger has always been a little easier because we’re constantly shifting time around. If someone wants a day off, they just mark it in the book.”
“I see,” she murmured. “Well, seems straightforward.”
“Pretty much is. Oh, the catalog to order supplies is in one of those drawers.” He gave a vague motion to the desk.
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Break room in the back. Has a microwave and a ‘fridge. Help yourself to the sodas inside.” He smiled. “Well, I know I have a client in half an hour, so I’m going to set up.”
Shiloh nodded and watched him walk to the back. This was going to be a daunting task, for sure, but it was exactly what she needed. Something to distract from the thoughts in her head. From the memories that haunted her.
She sat and started with the desk drawers, deciding she needed to know what she was actually dealing with before implementing an organizational system.
The roar of a bike announced another person, and a moment later, a muscular guy wearing sunglasses walked in.
On his cut was the name Apollo. He paused when he saw her and slowly took off his shades, perusing her body up and down.
“Well, hello,” he drawled. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
One eyebrow rose. “Who said I’m a nice girl?”
That caught him off guard, and he chuckled.
“Knock it off, Apollo,” Jade said. “This is Shiloh. She’s our new front-end employee, and the last thing she needs is for your flirtatious ass to be sniffing hers.”
“But what if she wants my flirtatious ass?” Apollo countered.
“I don’t,” she told him firmly.
Apollo put a hand over his heart. “I think you just broke it.”
“Did you know Apollo was a playboy in the Greek Pantheon?” she said, pulling papers from the bottom drawer and placing them on the desktop.
“Beauty and brains? Now, you have to marry me.”
She stopped and looked up at him. “Yeah, he had many romantic affairs with both women ... and men.”
It took a beat, then Jade doubled over laughing. He laughed so hard tears leaked from his eyes. Apollo narrowed his gaze at her, and she made sure to hold it. Then his tough demeanor changed, and he started laughing as well.
While they tried to get their breathing under control, she started weeding through all the junk she’d just pulled from the drawer. As Apollo passed, he winked at her.
“Welcome to The Inkpot, Shiloh.”
“Thank you, Apollo.”
Not long after that, the first customer came in—Jade’s appointment, a man who had a lot of tats already.
“Well, hello, darlin’,” he greeted. “Nice to see a pretty face to greet me instead of ugly old Jade.”
“Hello,” she said, ignoring the other stuff. She knew in a male-dominated society there would be sexist remarks. “I’m Shiloh.”
“Shiloh. What a beautiful name. I’m Norris.”
“Hey, man.” Jade came out to greet him, doing that hand-hug combination men tended to do. “Come on back. I have everything set up.”
Shiloh watched Jade show his concept drawings, and as soon as Norris approved it, the transfer was placed on his skin.
Then the buzz of a gun started, and Shiloh watched Jade for a few minutes.
Within those few moments, she saw how much he loved his job.
The intense focus, the ease of his shoulders, the methodical tracing of lines.
He talked and joked with Norris, but his concentration was completely on the ink.
Giving herself a mental shove, she got back to her official duties and stayed busy separating things that seemed important and things that didn’t.
Of course, she set some of it aside to ask Jade about it.
About half an hour later, another man walked in.
Black nail polish, kohl-rimmed eyes, a chain necklace with a lock, and, to complete his look, black fingerless gloves.
His eyebrows shot up when he spotted her at the desk.
“Hi,” he greeted. “I’m Bowie.”
The chain and lock around his neck told her he was someone’s sub. This was the first man she’d met that didn’t give off alpha energy, and she liked him immediately.
“I’m Shiloh,” she said with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“Cool. Uh, I think I have an appointment in fifteen minutes. I’m going to make some coffee in the back. Would you like a cup?”
“Not right now, but thanks for the offer.”
He smiled at her and also headed to the breakroom.
At that moment, the phone rang, and for the rest of the morning she worked hard trying to form some sort of order to the chaos in between phone calls and clients coming in.
Of which, the majority were men. A few women also came in, but the place was clearly a male-dominated business.
She was also surprised by how busy it stayed.
Jade finished with Norris and came to pay, holding out his credit card.
By lunchtime, she was surprised at how much she liked The Inkpot. She had found a few delivery menus and took them back to the guys, getting their order and then placing it with a company card she’d found in a metal cash box.
When the sandwiches were delivered, she placed hers on the desk, then brought the rest back to the break room. In the fridge, she saw a variety of cola drinks and grabbed one.
She ate her lunch at her desk, in between answering the phone.
For a tattoo parlor, in a remote section of the city, they were awfully busy.
In fact, she had no thoughts of leaving, and when it was time to close at midnight, Jade showed her how to write up the day’s total and place it in the safe.
Then she slipped on her helmet, straddled the bike behind him, and held on as he drove her home.