Masked & Miserable: A Novella of the Sacred Hearts MC (Book 3.5) (11 page)

Ghost…

“You’re sure man?” I fixed my eyes on the boxy cartoon
rendition of Satan, complete with ram’s horns and back dropped with cartoon
flames on the side of Disney’s neck.

“I’m sure,” I affirmed. This was my first tattoo and a
pretty big step. I hadn’t been patched in more than a few months but I’d been a
part of this club for almost a year and a half. It was time to ink the devotion
I felt towards these guys under my skin and I wanted Disney to be the one to do
it.

“You sure you don’t want Trig to do this?” he asked, working
the latex gloves between his long fingers, finding a comfortable fit.

“I’m sure man,” I said and smiled. While it was true Trig
was and always would be my brother in arms, the guy who took a bullet for me
and who saved my ass countless times over there… I wanted Disney to know that I
knew he had my back. Rev wasn’t half so insecure and when the topic of club ink
had come up I’d known right away I’d wanted it to be Disney that did mine.

“I don’t get it,” the kid frowned and I smiled.

“Just stop being a pussy and get to it already!” I teased
which just made him frown harder.

“We’ll see who the pussy is in a minute,” he griped and
smeared some Vaseline onto the swell of the outside of my left shoulder.

“Ha, ha,” I said and took a pull off my beer. We were at
Trigger and Ashton’s in Triggers small ‘studio’ just off the living room. The
room was really just big enough for his tool box of ink and needles, a massage
chair, his little rolling doctor’s stool and the little metal table where he
laid out all of his stuff. He had an autoclave low to the ground on a squat
little table wedged up under where the ceiling sloped because of the stairs.

We could hear Trigger, Ashton and Disney’s boyfriend Aaron
all talking in the living room. It was still taking some getting used to,
Disney being out of the closet and all and for the most part it was alright,
but I still caught myself cringing inwardly whenever the two men held hands or
kissed which was bullshit on my part. Old habits died hard though, I guess, I
mean I was raised in the Midwest around people who liked to picket soldiers
funerals with signs proclaiming ‘God Hates Fags’ which was an even bigger pile
of bullshit.

It took joining the corps and finding out one of our unit
was gay after they repealed don’t ask don’t tell for me to realize that gay,
straight or a little crooked, none of it fucking mattered. Jack was a cool dude
before I knew he was gay and he was a cool dude after, just like Disney who was
peeling the tracing paper stencil off my arm. I cocked my elbow out from my
body and looked down at the blue lines on my arm etching out the emblem of The
Sacred Hearts MC.

Unlike most of the guy’s more realistic renditions done in
blacks and whites, mine would be full color. I’d lived my life in blacks and
whites for long enough. Took meeting Trig and a couple of tours in the bland,
drab desserts of Afghanistan to really appreciate that things weren’t always
black and white, good and bad, on one side of the line or the other with no in
between. I vowed never to live that way again if I could avoid it.

“You ready?” Disney asked.

“Ask you a question first?” he looked at me and used the
back of his brightly colored arm to push some of his lank brown hair out of his
eyes.

“Yes. I think you’re pretty but no you aren’t my type. Aaron
is my type,” he said automatically and I blinked before scoffing.

“Damn right I’m pretty but that wasn’t what I was gonna ask,
smart ass,” I said and he gave me a devil may care grin. I tried not to shift
uncomfortably. Being told by a dude I was pretty was fucking weird but the
sparkle in Disney’s eye straight up told me he was yanking my fucking chain.

“Shoot. What’s your question?” he asked.

“Shelly talk to you? You know… about what happened?” I asked
quietly, afraid to be overheard. Disney heaved a sigh and shook his head, and I
think his heart was just as heavy as mine.

“No man. Not a word. I know she had to move in with Reaver
and Hayden though. They’re supposed to be moving her stuff this weekend into
storage, she’s gonna live in their spare room,” he said, voice low.

“Why, what happened?” I asked, worried.

“Stopped getting up, stopped going to work, stopped paying
her bills, she just stopped everything,” he sighed heavily and gave a one
shouldered shrug as he twisted this and that on his tattoo gun.  It was a
sentiment that I echoed except I was drowning in guilt over what had happened
to her. If only I’d been less of a stubborn ass and talked with her, reasoned
with her, like a grown up rather than just standing around with my thumb up my
ass hoping she was some kind of God damned mind reader. I scrubbed my face with
my hands and took another irritated pull off my beer.

“Can I offer a piece of unsolicited advice?” Disney asked
softly.

“Yeah man, whatcha got?” I asked just as quietly.

“Be what Shelly needs, not what she wants. You had it right the
first time and what happened to her, it wasn’t her fault but it wasn’t yours
either. It was that asshole’s fault and we may not have been able to stop it
from happening to Shells, but we definitely stopped it from happening to anyone
else’s cousin, sister, daughter, niece… you get me?” his brown eyes were
serious as he looked me over and I found myself nodding slowly. I felt slightly
less guilty but by no means was I completely absolved of it. Only two people
could do that for me and one wasn’t speaking to me and me, well it would be a
while before I could forgive myself. I was working on it though. Some nights
were better than others on that front.

“And brother,” Disney said breaking me out of my reverie.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“This,” he said, plucking my beer out of my hand and rolling
over to the toolbox, “Isn’t helping you
or
her.” He set the bottle
resolutely out of my reach and rolled back across the polished cement floor.

I gave him a half assed mock salute but found myself
nodding, chagrined. After all, it was Disney that had cleaned up after my last
drunken escapade. Not something I did often, but I felt bad about it just the
same.

“So that’s it huh?” I asked as he smeared some goop on my
arm and poised the gun to start. “Be what she needs and not what she wants.”

“That’s the best I can figure,” he said somberly, “Shelly
needs someone to look out for her. Reaver has his hands full with Hayden and
starting the next round of his life and truth be told he’s been looking out for
Shells since they were kids. Not sure what’s going on there but she goes on
these wild self-destructive benders just never anything this bad before. Even
Reaver’s knocked a little sideways with how bad it’s been.” The buzz of the
tattoo gun was sharp in the small space as I let his words sink in. I barely
felt the sting as he laid in the very first line of my very first tattoo, lost
down the rabbit hole of my own thoughts as I was.

“Something happen to her? Before Sparks, I mean?” I mused
aloud.

I wasn’t really asking Dis, but he answered me anyways by
shrugging and saying, “Who can say?”

Only one or two people that I knew of, and I wasn’t going to
ask Reaver. I thought about it as I fell into an almost meditative state
between the buzz of the tattoo gun and the endorphins that began to kick in
after a couple of minutes of minor discomfort.

Be what Shelly needed. Not what she wanted. Hadn’t that been
what I was trying to do in the first place? I sat still while Disney
mercilessly ground ink into my arm with a look that was a cross between sheer
concentration and apologetic sympathy which, the hell if I knew how he pulled
that
off, just as I had no notion of how the fuck I was going to be what Shelly
needed at a time like this in her life.

There was only one thing I knew for sure and a lesson I
learned well behind the scope. I needed to wait, to be patient, and for an
opportunity to present its self. Once it did, I needed to jump on it. I needed
to not hesitate for anything and to pull the damned trigger. Yeah. That’s what
I needed to do. I needed to wait and be ready, and from the sound of things, I
wouldn’t have to wait too long. At least I hoped that was the case. Not just
for my sake but for my ice princess’ with the sapphire eyes.

A.J.
Downey has been a resident of Seattle, WA her entire life, that being said she
has lived in many different places and many different worlds through her
imagination. She enjoys music, coffee, writing (obviously) and a bunch of other
boring things that you probably don’t really care about. She is ever so
grateful that you either picked up her writing or that you continue to read her
stuff!

You
can find her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/authorajdowney