《The Irish Tattooist》CHAPTER 9
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The house was rowdy when we got back after a few more hours of bliss and lips. Ripper had his hand around my waist, his thumb drawing small circles that made me shiver. I elbowed him as we came to the door, trying to make him stop but he only grinned slightly.
Neanderthal.
Ripper looked to all the bikes in front of my house, his grin fading slowly. He stood in front of me, frame straightening, muscles coiling into the Ripper that the club knew, I placed my hand on his, drawing his fingers into mine.
He opened the door, eyes immediately snapping to us. Some of them were less than welcoming, others just blank. I shrugged and walked in, smiling at all the members I knew. Which was a good five, give or take.
"Who's this hot piece of ass?" A man near me jeered, grey hair salted through his mane. Before I could speak up, a growl erupted from behind me, Ripper stepping in front of me. "Shut the fuck up" Tone clearly warning him any any other males in the room that might want to comment.
Is it sad that I smiled? Dad stood up from the other end of the room, glaring at the old man before raising his eyebrows at me and Ripper. "Might wanna go an get changed sweetheart. I don't think you'd want Ripper coming to blows with the whole club tonight"
Didn't I?
Placing a hand on Ripper's cheek, I let my fingers trail down his rough face, effectively shutting up any of the women in the room and calming the angry man in front of me. "I'll be out soon. Save me a seat"
I got changed into sweatpants and a shirt I had stolen from Seamus after I saw how much better they looked on me, naturally. Seamus eyed my shirt as he sipped his coke when I came out before shaking his head and laughing.
"Keep it"
I scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "Do I need your permission, prospect?"
Dismissing his scoff and my father's laughs, I went to sit next to Ripper, leaning into him as soon as his leather clad arm came around me.
It felt good. Real good.
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The group went back to talking shop, shit about trades and disputes going on between the mc and another called 'Grim Reapers'. Deadeye sat on the other side of me, hands clenched at his sides, a sign that everyone was getting too loud.
Deadeye had PTSD, something he hadn't said out loud, but easy enough to see.
"Quiet down" I said, loud enough to be heard. The group looked to me, then to a dark Ripper at my side before their voices lowered from the shouts they had been using. If I was a triggered feminist, I would have gotten annoyed that they quietened down for Ripper instead of me- but this was about Deadeye.
I got up, patting Deadeye on the back before going to the kitchen and getting dad, Ripper and deadeye a beer.
A woman with bright red hair a few seats away from Deadeye scowled at me, her face twisting into a mask of disgust. Her hand snapped out to grab my wrist, unseen by everyone except her and I.
"You think you're the shit don't you? Just cause you're pres' bastard and Ripper's whore" She spat. Seriously, why were people so bitter? I tried moving my arm lightly, not wanting to draw attention. But she leaned closer, the tang of tobacco heavy on her breath.
"We're going to fuck you up. Watch your back, because we have been itching to do this for weeks" She sat back, face smug underneath her infinite layers of makeup. I fought the fear, especially when her eyes brightened. Bright eyes were always a sign of excitement- sadistic or not. They looked just like the ones that had tormented me in Brazil.
"Just wait bitch" She mouthed, before turning back to her man, palm straight to the crotch of his jeans. I grimaced before turning around, avoiding the clear eye of Deadeye who had latched onto me. When I sat back down, Ripper's hand came back around my waist, pulling me close in a way that made me feel encased in safety. And that was what I needed.
Deadeye stared at me a moment longer before averting his gaze, but I knew he had seen. Just how much, I didn't know.
I couldn't tell dad or Ripper. They would both go into overprotective mode, and I had never been one to tattle when I had problems. Deadeye had stayed behind for another drink after the meeting finished, but in true Deadeye style, didn't speak.
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Seamus sat next to me, watching me sketch a design for a tattoo he wanted. Apparently, prospects always get tattoos of their leaders, and since I was his, he wanted something from and about me.
"Make it bold but kind of gentle ya know?"
I elbowed him, rolling my eyes. "I'm the tattooist, chump"
Nevertheless, I continued sketching, ignoring the emptiness I felt when Ripper wasn't next to me. We had only been together for a few hours, for gods sake, but I felt more of a connection with him than I did with anyone else. Apart from dad and Biancs.
Ripper had gone out to handle some disputes going on, leaving me back at home. I didn't mind that much, until dad asked me to go and get some more coffee. Seamus stood to come with me, but dad told him to stay back, he had to talk with him and Deadeye about something.
Before I could leave the house, Deadeye stopped me, passing me a knife. "Be careful."
I nodded, smiling despite the fear that rose as soon as I saw how black it was outside. "Tell me what you saw"
Dead eye stilled before nodding reluctantly, hard face assessing mine. "Martha was holding onto you, before saying something I couldn't make out"
Relief touched my senses and I smiled wider, crushing the fear. "Yeah. She just doesn't like me much" I turned before adding "Don't tell my dad or Ripper. They have enough to deal with" I piled on the false sense of bravado and gave him a wink. "I can handle any whore that comes my way." Deadeye kept staring for a moment then nodded and walked away.
This night seemed scarier than the rest, but I had never been afraid of the dark. And my car was out of use too, since I had forgotten to get some gas when I came home yesterday.
Why did I always do things that went against my favour?
I walked quickly to the store, hurrying to buy the coffee before slowing my steps. They wanted me to be scared. The women wanted me to be anxious and afraid of them, so that I could leave and they could feel secure again.
I had never been one to give in to others. But I had never been that intelligent either so.... I shrugged, paying for the coffee before walking out onto the street.
I walked steadily, free hand shoved deeply into my puffer jacket pocket. A sound alerted me, the sound of feet slowly coming my way, but I palmed the knife in my pocket. It was cold, too cold for it to be normal, and I walked faster, looking back slightly to see if anyone was there. A hand snapped out from the darkness, pulling me back hard.
I dropped the coffee and spun around, choosing not to get the knife out. If I did, and there were more than two people, they could easily steal it and do much more than I would.
A silver ring glinted as it came towards my face, the fist narrowly missing my cheek as I dodged. An elbow came down on my back behind me, a sharp pang of pain shooting up my spine. They had surrounded me, but I still fought.
"Can't do much now can you bitch?" A woman's voice snarled, swinging her foot through the air to land on my stomach. She laughed, face obscured by shadows, then nodded to more pairs of hands that held my struggling body down.
I spat on her feet, smiling through the blood. "That the best you got, slut?"
The woman backhanded me across the face, the slap echoing in my ears. She laughed, cracking her hands in the dim street lights. "I told you to watch your back."
They kept beating me, the bursts of pain slowly melding into just a blanket of agony. It hurt, it hurt so much, and I didn't like it. Black blurred my vision, the steady throb in my brain the only thing I could feel, a sea of agony that turned me over in its waves, then crashed me back down again.
It hurt too much to stay conscious.
So I gave in.
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