Page 3 of Inked Daddies

My throat tightens. “Who are you?”

“Crow,” he says. “And I know who you are, Miss Durand.”

Every muscle in my body locks up. “How do you know my name?”

“Because I know your father.” He smiles, but it’s not a friendly smile. There’s nothing behind his frigid dark eyes. “Or, well, I knowofhim.”

Sweat trickles down my back. “You’re part of his church?”

“Not quite,” he says, holding up his left hand. There’s a tattoo of a hammer on the back, black and menacing.

My heart stops.

“I’m with the Hell’s Hammers,” he says, his voice softening in a way that’s more dangerous than if he’d shouted. “And I’m here for you.”

2

SAM

I wipethe last streak of black ink off my forearm and stretch my neck, feeling the tension in my shoulders from hunching over all day. Somehow, this shit ends up on me, no matter how clean I work. Another long day at The Lethal Legacy, but this one feels heavier than most. It’s not the work—I could tattoo in my sleep at this point—but my energy’s not what it used to be. Forty-two isn’t old, but it’s not young either, not in this game.

Trick leans against the counter, all swagger, no brains. Well, I shouldn’t say that about him. It’s not entirely true. I’ve never known anyone who could read a person as well as Trick. But reading a person doesn’t pay the bills unless you’re willing to use that information against them, so he manages the shop when I’m not around.

The last client of the day, Rebecca Flowers, stands at the counter, all smiles as she bats her eyes at Trick. If she looked at me like that, I wouldn’t do anything about it. She’s nice enough, around my age, blonde, big tits—the whole package, really. But she just finalized her divorce yesterday, and I don’t fuck around with that kind of drama.

Rebecca came in today wanting a phoenix on her shoulder and said it was about new beginnings. She ain’t over it yet. She probably won’t be for a long, long time.

Divorce in Auclair is rare enough that I didn’t snicker at the cliché when she said it. That’s the kind of thing people always say when they’re getting a tattoo. If it’s their first time, they’re nervous and say some stupid shit. I get it. I was a nervous kid when I got my first one at fifteen. I lied about my age on the form, but no one even questioned it.

Even now, I can see that London shop clear as day. Three walls and a glass storefront, just like my place now, only my place has a few rooms in the back and two flanking the main. It’s too much room for what I do, but I like my space.

In that studio overseas, they had all kinds of flash on the wall, some of it overlapping each other. One had Bugs Bunny on it, so my first time in the chair, I rambled on about Saturday morning cartoons. I didn’t know how to speak to a bunch of older Brits about anything. I had no concept of small talk, so I was nervous about the tat and the talk. Truth is, I had no business being there. But they took mercy on me all the same, and I still have the Mom heart on my shoulder to tell the tale.

Sometimes, the ink is just ink, and sometimes it’s therapy. Either way, it’s not my job to judge.

Rebecca was pleasant enough while I worked, but I’m not the one who makes her light up. That’s Trick. It’s what he does.

“So it’s official now? No more Daryl?”

“Don’t even say that name to me,” she purrs, leaning onto the counter to flash him some cleavage framed by her black tank top.

“Bet I could make you forget his name by the morning.”

“I bet I’d let you, Trick.”

He’s giving her his signature grin right now, the one that says,I might ruin your life, but you’ll enjoy every second of it.And Rebecca? She’s eating it up.

Hugo snorts behind me. “He’s shameless, isn’t he?”

“What good has shame ever done any of us?”

“Fair point.”

I shake my head, watching as Trick hands her credit card back and casually brushes his fingers against her palm. It’s impossible not to roll my eyes at that. “He’s a walking HR violation, but it works for him.”

“Rebecca doesn’t seem to mind.” Hugo leans on the broom he’s pretending to sweep with, clearly entertained. “You think she’ll come back?”

“For Trick or another tattoo?”

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