Page 41 of Then and Now (The Edge of Retaliation 3)
“Okay,” I say, walking over to my chair and glancing down at the picture that I’m going to be tattooing on a fucking biker. What if I do it wrong? Or bad? I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It’s beside the point, it’s my job and I can’t run away from it, I have to give it my all and pray it’s enough.
The picture is a massive Celtic design, that’s mostly black, so it’ll be a lot of coloring but not a lot of detail. It looks easy enough, but it’s going to take a while, the outline alone would probably be three or four hours, and then the coloring. I turn to Tatum, “I’m going to be here for a long time, you go.”
He stares at me, about to say something, when Alarick looks up from his work and stares at Tatum, his eyes narrowing as he takes him in. “No boyfriends in the shop,” he growls.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say, and it sounds … I don’t know, teenager-ish.
“I’m protectin’ her,” Tatum says, his voice hard and strong, not at all intimidated by Alarick. “She’s in danger. You got a problem with that?”
Alarick tips his head to the side and studies Tatum for a moment. “What sort of danger?”
I open my mouth to tell Tatum to stop, but he doesn’t seem to care what I think or want. He’s walking toward Alarick now, ready to have a fucking chat. My god. He just makes himself at home wherever he goes.
“Got into a mess with some drug runners, they followed us here, lookin’ for revenge. Goin’ after the girls to get it. You know much about the runners in town?”
Alarick turns the gun off and says to the girl, “Take five.”
She gets up, her face red from lying down, and pulls out a cigarette, walking outside. When she’s gone, Alarick looks to Tatum and says, “Like to know what’s goin’ down in my town. Keep my finger in every pie. Who is it you’re dealin’ with?”
“Names Baker, Raz Baker. He’s big time. Into a lot of shit. We fucked him over, now he wants revenge.”
“Not from around here,” Alarick says, crossing his arms, and I struggle not to ogle because damn he’s fine. “Know all the runners in this town. He from out of state?”
“Yeah, toward Denver. Bad news.”
“Why’d you fuck him over?”
“He and eight of his men raped my best friend’s sister, gave her HIV and she killed herself.”
Alarick’s face hardens. “Don’t like fuckers like that walkin’ the streets. You got a location?”
“Not as yet. Still trackin’ him down. They got my brother. Cut his fuckin’ thumb off and sent it to Callie. Which is why we’re here, he’s goin’ to go after Jo, or Callie, or both and he’s goin’ to attempt to bring us all down.”
Alarick nods, and pulls out his phone. “I’ll make some calls. Find out if he’s been talkin’ to anyone.”
Jesus Christ. Just like that, he’s brought the fucking motorcycle club into it. Like we need any more drama.
“You don’t have to help us,” I say, my voice squeaky. “We’re fine handling it on our own. It’s not your problem. Tatum shouldn’t have told you.”
Alarick stops dialing and looks to me. “You’re not my problem, correct, but this town is my fuckin’ problem. Nothin’ goes past me, especially when it comes to that.”
Oh boy.
I nod, because I’m not about to argue with him. He’s … passionate about this I can see.
“Appreciate it,” Tatum says. “If this is goin’ to take a while, I’ll go, you good keepin’ an eye on her?”
Alarick nods, standing up and extending his hand. “Alarick, you can call me Flick.”
Tatum takes his hand, shaking it. “Tatum.”
“Will keep an eye on her here, Tatum, and I’ll get back to you with word.”
Tatum nods, and then looks to me with a smug expression. That fucking jerk. Coming in here and just taking over my life like he owns the damn thing. I grit my teeth and try not to hit him when he says, “Happy inking, sweetheart.”
Then he’s gone.
The fucking douchebag.
16
CALLIE
I fumble around with my key in the parking garage at work, trying to find it in my purse. If I didn’t have the entire contents of my damned house in this purse, I’d probably have better luck finding my key. I curl my fingers around something and pull it out, is that a fucking balloon? How in the ever-loving hell did a balloon get in my purse?
My lord.
I make a mental note to clean my purse out when I get home tonight—it’ll give me something to do to avoid looking at Tanner for the evening. I was glad to get a double shift today; it kept me out of his way and allowed me some time to breathe. It has been tense, to say the least, and we’re only one night in.
