Page 56 of Spinner's Luck

He couldn’t possibly understand how to handle a heated bitch like her.

She was mine.

I’d made sure of that in the rawest, most undeniable way possible.

And she’d do well to remember it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

THE BELL OVERthe door jingled as I unlocked it,the sound too damn cheery for a morning like this. I flipped the sign toOpenand stepped into my shop, walls covered in inked art, the buzz of the tattoo gun already in my head like a calming rhythm. This place had always been peaceful, a corner of the world where no one could tell me who to be or what to feel.

I needed to come to work today since I had appointments lined up. Any other day, Carmen and Celia could’ve handled the shop just fine, but today wasn’t one of those days. I hated being away from the clubhouse, and from Lucy.

My head spun with thoughts of her.

The woman was a walking mystery, and lately, the secrets she kept felt heavy, pressing against the edges of our time together. She’d given me pieces of herself—just enough to make me crave more—but not enough to stop my mind from filling in the blanks with every worst-case scenario my imagination could come up with.

I cleaned up my station, setting everything in place, my hands moving automatically. The harsh smell of disinfectant filled the air, almost grounding, but not enough to drown out the nagging questions.

What was Lucy hiding? Why the hell wouldn’t she just tell me? And why did it feel like whatever it was might shatter the fragile thing we were building?

The bell over the door jingled again, the sound sharper this time, cutting through the quiet of the shop. I didn’t bother looking up. “We’re not taking walk-ins today. Appointments only.”

A pause. Then a voice like broken glass slicing through my chest. “Well, that’s disappointin’. I was hoping you’d make an exception for me.”

I froze. That voice—I knew it before I even turned around. It was burned into my memory like a brand, tangled up with every dark corner of my past. Slowly, I set the machine down and turned, wiping my hands on a rag when they didn’t need it.

“Mom,” I said flatly, the word tasting bitter in my mouth. “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

She stood in the doorway, her perfectly manicured nails clutching an overpriced handbag, her dark hair styled like she’d just walked out of a salon. She looked as out of place here as a snake in a nursery. Her lips curved into a smile, but it wasn’t warm. It never had been—not since that day.

“I thought it was time we talked,” she said, stepping further into the shop like she belonged here. Like she had a right. “It’s been long enough, Hayden. You need to get over this anger.”

“Spinner,” I corrected harshly, leaning back against the counter and crossing my arms. “And it’s been a while because I wanted it that way. So, again, what do you want?”

She sighed, like I was some unruly kid she had to deal with. “You always were so dramatic about things,” she said, glancing around the shop with a faint curl of her lip. “Never really pictured you here, though.”

My jaw tightened. “Cut the small talk and get to the point. Or leave. Your choice.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she recovered quickly, plastering on that fake smile I knew too well. “I’ve heard some things about you,” she said, her tone casual but loaded. “About the company you’ve been keepin’. Lucy, right?”

The sound of her name on my mother’s lips sent a wave of anger rolling through me. “How the fuck do you know about Lucy?”

She shrugged, acting like it was no big deal. “I have my ways. And let’s just say, from what I’ve heard, she’s… not exactly a catch.”

I barked out a bitter laugh. “And you think you’re in a position to lecture me about women?You,of all people?” My voice dropped, cold and venomous. “You drove my dad to his grave with your lies and your bullshit. You don’t get to come in here and pass judgment on my life. Not now. Not ever.”

Her face tightened, but she didn’t flinch. “I didn’t come here to fight,” she said calmly. “I came here because I’m still your mother, whether you like it or not. And I’m tryin’ to help you.”

I stepped closer, the tension in my chest coiled so tight it hurt. “You’re not my mother. You lost that title the day you opened your mouth and broke him down. The day you walked out to be with someone else. So don’t stand here and pretend you’re some kind of savior.”

Her smile faltered, and for a split second, I thought I saw something real in her eyes—guilt, maybe, or regret. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that same cold, calculated look she always wore.

“You think you know everythin’, don’t you?” she said, her voice low. “You think you’ve got it all figured out. But people have problems not everyone sees. And Lucy—well, let’s just say she’s got plenty of them.”

“How would you know?” I snapped, stepping even closer until we were eye to eye. “What the hell are you tryin’ to say?”

She smiled again, smug as hell. “I’m sayin’ you should be careful who you let into your world. That’s all. From what I’ve heard, there are better choices out there.”

---