Ink (The Haven Series) (36 page)

“Oh, so you were listening. Was starting to think I was boring you, bro.”

“Shit, sorry, man. Got a lot on my mind, you know how it is. We can’t all be on the brink of international stardom.”

“Hey, don’t hate the player,” came the playfully smug reply from thousands of miles away, making Sketch roll his eyes and grin despite himself. He missed Casey, not that he’d ever tell him that. “So come on, what’s got your drawers in a bunch?”

“You mean besides you rubbing my nose in your meteoric rise to glory? Actually, why the hell are you even ringing at this time? Ain’t it like after midnight there?”

“Yup. Why else would I be whispering? I got an eight months pregnant wife upstairs who’ll kick my balls into my throat if I wake her,” Casey said, pausing as if to find the best way forward. “Listen, Sketch, there is a reason I ain’t been in touch for a coupla weeks – same reason I’m calling now. Can’t even sleep with all this shit with the studio going round and round in my head. I need to know what you think ...”

“Jesus Christ, what’s to think about? If some TV hotshots wanna make Addiction into the new LA Ink, I say let ‘em. Big bucks, perfect showcase, hell of an opportunity. One big fucking step ...”

“It sure is that,” came the sigh. And a pause. “Think Callie would take it with me?”

***

“You had to prove a point ...”

Callie’s soft voice may have been steady, but she wasn’t quite able to hide the slight trembling of her hands as they came to rest on his shoulders. She wouldn’t normally call him out, but she reckoned she’d more than earned the right by now. And even Colton seemed to agree.

“Knew this tough little bitch could handle it. Could handle me,” he said with a shrug. His own strong hands eased slowly upwards, taking the hem of her vest top with them - just enough to let him press an open-mouthed kiss to the inch or so of soft skin he’d exposed. “I’ll make it up to you, girl,” he murmured against her stomach.

She figured that was the closest thing to an apology she was likely to get. It would do. Of course it would. After all,
sorry
didn’t matter half as much as where they were supposed to go from here and that wasn’t something she was under any illusions about.

“Colt ...” Callie bit her lip and let her eyes drift closed as he kissed her bare skin again. Much as she wanted to just lose herself in the feel of his lips on her body, there were things that needed to be said. No matter how hard it would be. “I ... I’m not stupid enough to think there’s a choice being made here, but I ... I don’t want to complicate things for you. With the club. Maybe we should ... stop.”

When he pulled away and rose to his full height, the eyes that met hers – once she dared to look – were almost black in their intensity. His voice, when he found it, was harder than she thought she’d ever heard it.

“That what you want?”

“I just ... Maybe we’re kidding ourselves here.”

“About
what
?” Colton ground out, making it perfectly clear he already knew what she was trying to say. He wasn’t going to let her get away without spelling it out though. He wasn’t going to make it easy for her. Not that she would have expected him to.

“That this can go anywhere. You and me,” she whispered. “Us. If there even is an
us
...”

“The fuck did he say to you?”

She knew exactly who he meant and shook her head. “It’s not about Will--”

“Bullshit.”

Callie had already known that trying to lie to him was pointless and hung her head in defeat. She didn’t know what to say for the best. The last thing she wanted was him thinking this was just her attempt to manufacture needless angst, to push him into some kind of declaration. Despite trying to dodge pinning the blame on the club president, she just wanted to be honest with him. To do the right thing by the man she was just trying to put first.

FLASHBACK

“Well, ain’t this cosy?”

Will’s brown eyes held a dangerous glint as he surveyed the scene in his clubhouse, taking in the trail of destruction left by the brawl between his sergeant and their lawyer and then flitting to the little blonde and the mortified look on her face. He’d already ordered Sam and Colton outside to cool off, in a thunderous tone that bore no arguments even from them, before having Corsada dragged off by a couple of prospects so he’d stop bleeding on his floor.

“I’m really sorry, Will,” Callie started, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. “I had no idea he’d turn up like this and I really don’t know where this thing about me and Sam’s coming from. There’s honestly nothing like that going on with us.”

“Good to know,” he smiled, running a hand over his beard. Still eyeing her coolly. “Ain’t sure I could put that man through handling another devious little bitch.”

From the way she recoiled, Will could tell she wasn’t quite sure if she’d understood him right, and no wonder. He knew what limited come-and-go they’d had in the past had always been friendly enough, and it did actually disappoint him to have to realise the girl wasn’t any different deep down than any other gash. Now she was probably confused by his distinct change of heart towards her, but he wasn’t bothered enough to elaborate. She was supposed to be sharp, he’d let her work it out for herself.

“I, uh, can talk to Michael if it helps,” she offered, in some awkward half-assed attempt to make amends. “Make sure he knows he can’t bring this shit to your door?”

“Oh, I think he already got that message, sweetheart. Loud and clear. Maybe you need to do the same.”

“What? I don’t understand ...” Callie frowned. “Will, Colton knows I’m not still with Mich
ael. I mean, I wouldn’t try to mess him around or hurt him or shit like that ...”

He laughed outright at the thought. “In case you ain’t noticed, pussy’s a dime a dozen round here. Don’t go thinking you’re special just ‘cause Colt’s been sticking it to
you for more than a week. Who knows, give it long enough and maybe Sam’ll get a go after all.”

Her jaw dropped in shock and she stared at him, lost for a response. “I’m not some club skank,” she said finally, obviously struggling to know how to handle this.

But Will had to admit he was a little impressed that she seemed to keep in her head a healthy respect for the fact that this was his club, his turf, his rules. He could see just a hint of fear underneath the bristling anger and confusion. He leaned in close, letting a hand trail down her arm. “When a guy’s surrounded by easy lays, sometimes he’s gotta mix it up a little. Trust me, sugar, you ain’t nothin’ but a change of scenery,” he sneered. “It ain’t love, just a different kind of fuck. Door’s that way.”

***

Callie had dared to edge forward, reaching out to slide her palms over his t-shirt clad chest as she looked up at him, those gray eyes full of regret. “Maybe Will’s right,” she said finally. “And it isn’t worth sacrificing his trust in you because of me, not if this is just ... sex.”

For a long moment, Colton just stared at her and she could feel the tension building between them. Hell, she could see the effort it was taking for him to keep his temper under wraps.

“If you still think that’s all this is, maybe it ain’t worth it,” he snarled, already heading for the door. “I’m done here.”

***

CHAPTER 42

Tilting his head back to blow a stream of fragrant cigar smoke into the air, Will sighed and then levelled his gaze at the man stood in the doorway of his office. “Okay, let’s hear it, brother.”

Unfolding his arms and pushing away from the doorframe he’d cocked a shoulder against, Sam took a seat in front of the president’s desk and leaned forward with his elbows braced on his knees. “You really want to hear it?”

“Said I did, didn’t I?”

“Callie looked pretty upset when she burned outta here ...” the sergeant began, searching for the right way to do this. “Listen, man, I’m just gonna jump to it. I know where your head’s at, but she ain’t Taylor. You can’t let the past cloud your judgement.”

“You questioning my judgement?”

“Only on this.”

“And Colt?”

“Ain’t gonna lie, he’s pretty fucking pissed,” Sam shrugged. “He went after her ...”

“Looks like he made his choice then,” Will growled, another slow burn of anger flaring somewhere deep inside him even though the news wasn’t quite as out of the left field as it once might have been.

“
No
,” came the immediate response, complete with a shake of the head for emphasis. “No choice because there wasn’t one to be made, man. If that girl had done one single thing to hurt this club, you know he’d be the first one on her tail. But she hasn’t and she ain’t planning on it either.”

“You can’t fucking know that!”

“I’m as close to certain as I’ve ever been about anything.”

***

Surveying the scene inside the abandoned warehouse La
Eñe
14
had taken over as one of their bases, the gang leader gritted his teeth in frustration. After a few days of laying low until the heat died down, his men were celebrating the shoot-up at the Fallen Brothers’ clubhouse. The stupid bastards seemed content with their half-assed job, with taking out a couple of low ranks and some whore when he’d been hoping to make much more of an impact.

They were still thinking small-time when he was aiming for the big leagues and that displeased him.

“Yo, boss, what up? You want another beer?” his so-called number two hollered as he approached, with a shit-eating grin on his face and a swagger in his step.

“Yeah, that’s what I want – knocking back this warm piss in some dump. Really worth the celebrations,
ese
,” Antonio Cervantes all but spat.

“Hey, come on, man - we pulled this off! Sent a message to those biker pricks ...”

“A message? More like a fucking inconvenience!” came the retort, the swift rise to his feet sending the table crashing over and drawing the attention of the others as he rounded on his supposed number two. “You think this is it, Mateo - that we’re done now? That they’re done?”

“Those crackers will think twice before interfering in our business again.”

“What those crackers will do, shithead, is come after us.
Hard.
Maybe things would be different if we’d done some real damage – taken out their president, someone who really matters. But all we’ve done is piss them off. And you know what they do to people who piss them off? They send that guy, the one they call the killer.”

Mateo looked like he hadn’t thought that far ahead. No doubt he hadn’t – none of them had.

“I heard he once cut a guy’s tongue out,” he mumbled, blanching at the thought. “Just to stop the screams when he smashed both his kneecaps.”

“So we need to be prepared.”

“Prepared like how? They got a lot more fire power than us, man ...”

“We need leverage. A weakness we can exploit,” Antonio said, eyes narrowing as he already started to muse over the possibilities. “Something to hold over their heads.”

“Doesn’t sound like this killer has too many weaknesses.”

“Everyone has a weakness. We just have to find his.”

***

“You need me here to watch you drink yourself into oblivion or are you actually gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

The sharp tone appeared to cut through the buzz created by knocking back shots of whiskey like they were water, but the only answer to the question was a shake of the head. That and another drink, a wince at the burn of the alcohol, and a signal to the nearest bartender to refill the glass.

Lana had to admit she usually enjoyed the change of scenery when she and Callie would occasionally hit some dive bar and just cut loose. It was something different than the pretentious nightclubs her colleagues frequented just to be seen – the perfect opportunity to just hang out, have fun, and not feel like anyone was judging.

Tonight, the call had been out of the blue. They usually were, so that wasn’t the problem. No, the problem was that - even under the dim lights and through the haze of cigarette smoke - she could see the pain etched on her friend’s face. She already knew it couldn’t be good if the younger woman was intent on hitting the bottle quite so hard, but just looking in her too-bright eyes was enough to show that something was really twisting her up inside.

Pushing at the beefy arm of some guy who’d stolen her barstool while she was in the dingy glorified closet they called a ladies’ bathroom, and shooting him a steely glare that dared him to make something of it, Lana sat back down beside Callie and prised the glass from her fingers. “No,” she said firmly, fending her off and deciding she’d already allowed this to go on too long. “Not until you talk to me. Sweetie, please, I’m really worried about you.”

“It’s just a few drinks. I can handle a few drinks.”

“The better part of half a bottle doesn’t constitute a few drinks, Callie. And by my calculating, if you weren’t so fucking stubborn, your little ass would already be on the floor.”

“I’m fine!” came the increasingly irritated response, as the girl staggered to her feet and twirled around as if to prove her point. “See? If I was drunk, could I do this?”