Page 13 of Falcon

His death doesn’t do anything to me while the mere reminder of hearing Kenz sob still bugs the shit out of me. Frustration hits me full force once more and I swing the knife through the air to let it sink yet again in the wooden panel.

“We’ll get them, brother,” Thorsten states, mistaking my anger for the information we just gained.

All while I’m fucking pissed and frustrated about what’s happening between me and Kenz. Hunting people, killing them, these things are a twist of my hand. Making shit easy and getting what I want when it comes to me and Kenz? I don’t even know where or how to start fixing shit. Or if it’s even a possibility anymore.

I guess we’ll find out soon enough once I’ve killed both Amadeo Feliza and Renata Tadeo. Once they are dead, the death threat will be off Kenz’s back. Then it’ll be clear enough if she still returns to the clubhouse after she’s finished her workday…like she’s been doing for the past few days.

Though, for that to happen? I have to stop avoiding her.

CHAPTER NINE

– KENZ –

My workspace is clean and I should leave. Should. These past few days have been nothing but going back and forth between being cooped up in Falcon’s room and working. Distancing myself from my family to make a life of my own has never been as lonely as I feel now.

I glance down and the decision of tattooing myself is made, leaving me to get things ready. The design is something I don’t have to think about and can pick from one of the many I’ve made over the past few days.

Apparently, my mind is obsessed with freaking birds. Well, not all birds, nowadays I only seem to design falcons. I blame the guy who I clearly hurt and insulted with words that weren’t even directed at him.

I haven’t seen Falcon since I faced my family in the clubhouse. He never returned to his room, and I’ve only dealt with either Thorsten or Macsen. They are the ones who escort me to and from work, and who stay as a bodyguard in the waiting room of my shop.

Then I’m alone again in Falcon’s room at the clubhouse. Except for the times Livi comes down to chat and tries to get me in a better mood. Useless, though. I feel like shit and haven’t been able to shake the feeling I lost something valuable without realizing I needed it in my life. Needed him in my life.

Stupid. I know. This whole situation is fucked up. It’s as if this man’s touch has left some part of him under my skin and not being with Falcon ignites an itch I can’t scratch. I crave him. I miss him.

The routine of getting my stuff ready to ink soothes me until I hear Macsen’s voice. “I thought you were done for the day.”

“You can leave if you like,” I tell him without looking.

Macsen snorts. “Not in your, or my lifetime, doll. Your old man would skin me alive if I left you unprotected.”

I catch movement behind Macsen right before the vice president of Wisely Dicey loudly says, “Motherfucker, what the actual fuck, asshole? Not so much skinning, more like giving me a damn heart attack.” He shoots me a glare. “Turns out I’ll head home anyway. Can you two please fuck and make up already? You two have both been miserable. Unnecessary if you ask me.”

A chuckle rips from me while Macsen faces Falcon who is standing behind him. He grabbed Macsen’s shoulder and freaked him out. Macsen and Falcon exchange keys and the VP leaves. Falcon steps into my workspace and glances at the stuff I laid out. He raises an eyebrow.

Unspoken questions and answers, the man has skilled this ability to a perfection. Having him stand before me after not seeing him for days allows for my body to fill with pure desire.

Clearing my throat, I grab my iPad and state, “I’m going to ink myself. You’re welcome to stay and watch.”

Falcon reaches for my wireless tattoo gun and points at his chest, then at me. A jolt of adrenaline hits me at the thought of Falcon inking my skin, or branding his skin with my artwork for that matter.

“You want to put the design on me?” I whisper out the words. “Or do you want me to ink you?”

He skillfully turns the tattoo gun on and points at the chair for me to take a seat. Point taken. I know the man has skills when it comes to tattooing because we talked about it when we started messaging. The tattoos littering his skin are by his hand, even the ones on his face. The cut on his hand is healing nicely and doesn’t seem to bother him at all.

I turn the iPad toward him and show the designs I’ve made over the past few days. His gaze turns hot when he places down the tattoo gun and takes the iPad from me. Selecting the delicate falcon with lines, dots, and shadows, he turns the screen to show me his favorite.

Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I pull it off in one smooth move and point at my sternum. I have a lot of tattoos as well, mostly on my arms and on the side of my leg. Like Falcon, I’ve done all the artwork myself, even though my brothers and mother are also tattoo artists.

Falcon hands me the tablet and points at the counter to let me know I’m the one getting the stencil ready. He leaves the room and for a moment I have no clue what he’s doing until I hear the front door lock. Right. Macsen left so Falcon is making sure the shop is locked up because it’s just the two of us in here.

Getting everything ready, Falcon returns and glances at me when I’m standing in front of the mirror to check the stencil on my skin. I’m still wearing my bra so I have the perfect place for the tattoo and not have it covered up by the lace. The head of the falcon has a halo, as if it’s spreading his wings as he faces the sun.

Falcon moves to stand right behind me. His arm circles my body, fingertips hovering above the stencil for a breath or two before he touches it. Good thing it’s dry already. He makes one of his rare scratch sounds and I automatically lean back into him and close my eyes.

A silent message passes between us. There is no reason for me to clarify the words I gave my family. By wanting the tattoo, it shows my dedication to what we have. Twisted reality for some, a meaningful connection to both me and Falcon.

I couldn’t give a shit what others think, and I’ve seen crazy connections up close by members of the MCs I’m connected to. No one is perfect, no relationship is perfect. It’s all about your own values, priorities, and trust. And when it comes to Falcon? I know exactly what he stands for and his actions have shown he isn’t about making decisions for me or slapping a chain around my neck.

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