Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Carter snickers and tosses another handful of seed.
“Were you at Bronze’s shop today?” I ask.
“Yeah, I got a doozy for you.”
Finally something to cheer me up after I acted like a dick to Charlotte. “Don’t tell me it was another ‘no regerts’ tattoo.”
“Soooo much better than that.” He holds his hands high in the air like he’s about to paint me a masterpiece. “Big dude. Not as big as Wrath but close.”
“This should be gold.”
“You have no idea. So, he wants a saying and an arrow. Piece of cake.”
“Never.” I shake my head. Doesn’t he know by now. “It’s never a piece of cake.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” He lifts his shirt and traces a line along his lower stomach. “He wants the saying down here and the arrow pointing to his dick.”
“Please don’t say he wanted ‘You must be this tall to ride.’”
“No, that would’ve been infinitely better.” He pauses and takes a breath. “He wants ‘Your next tragic mistake’ tattooed above the arrow pointing to his dick.”
“That’s…weird.”
“It gets worse. I kept a straight face. No judgment, right? That’s what Bronze always says. Can’t judge the customers. Everyone has the right to decorate their bodies the way they want.”
I can picture Bronze saying that.
“So, he pulls this scroll out of his back pocket and says, ‘I want it written out like this,’ and I’m like, ‘Cool. Let me look at it so I can draw up a stencil and we’ll get rockin’ on this bad boy.’” Carter mimes someone rolling out an ancient scroll and pretends to peer at it through a monocle. “Uh, sir, this is spelled wrong.”
“Let me guess. He got the wrong ‘your.’” I’ve learned this particular error is one of Carter’s greatest peeves.
“Yup. It reads, ‘You’re next tradgec mistake,’” he says, spelling out the misspelled words.
“Damn. Sounds more like a prediction than a tattoo.”
“Right? So anyway he was super pissed. Yelled at me. Called me an elitist asshole. Like, dude, I don’t want to ink misspelled words into your skin that you’ll be wearing for the rest of your life. Chill.”
I’m laughing so hard, it takes a second to respond. “What did Bronze do?”
“Stopped him from killing me. The dude was pissed.”
“Are you sure you weren’t a little judgmental about it?”
“Maybe a wee bit?” He shrugs. “He was more embarrassed than mad I think.”
“Did you end up doing it?”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “He had to sit there and stew in his wrongness, but I had to pick up his belly flap and get way too close to his junk for my comfort. Bronze gave me a bonus.”
I’ll have to thank Bronze for looking out for Carter next time I see him.
I glance at his black T-shirt with a drawing of scattered pencils and crayons. “A little bit sketchy” is printed in a flowery font in the middle. “Cute. You design it?”
He tugs on the shirt and stares down at the design as if he’d forgotten what he was wearing. “Yeah. Funny, right?”
“Yup. You going to the party like that?”
He drops the shirt and stares over my shoulder. “You sure you want me to come?”
“Of course I do. Why would you ask that?”
“I know I’m not family.” Carter drops his gaze. “Or a brother—”
“Hey.” I reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “You’re family. You’re my family and that makes you club family.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it.”
“I know you do.” He blows out a long, slow breath. “You’ve given me a lot. A place to live. A new career or two.” He chuckles.
“You’re really talented.”
“Charlotte’s the only other person who ever thought so.” He shifts his gaze to the side. “She claims our dad did, but I don’t remember it that way.”
The big brother role comes easily to me. Always has. “Well, now a lot of other people know it too.” I slap his shoulder. “Bronze has been a friend of the club for years—before my time, even. I wouldn’t stick my neck out if I didn’t believe in you. And Rock, well, I wouldn’t have risked my president’s wrath.”
“Merlin wouldn’t have pissed on me if I were on fire.”
“Yeah, but your uncle is a dick. Forget him.”
“He’s certainly forgotten us.” He tucks his hands in his pockets and stares at the ground. “He barely ever texts or calls her.”
Good. I promised Merlin a world of hurt if he contacted Charlotte without clearing it with me first.
“Did you tell him to stay away?” Carter asks. “Assert your biker dominion over my sister?”
I choose my words carefully, knowing how much Charlotte wants her little brother kept out of biker business. He’s also been lied to enough and deserves at least a piece of the truth. “He hurt your sister. He made things right the best he could, but I don’t trust him near her.” I hesitate and try to tamp down my anger. “He’s still family. If she wants to see him, she can. I just don’t want her alone with him ever again.”