Page 2 of Complete Me
Hell’s Heathens may not look like it from the outside, but we’re a family. We live and die together. We have core values that each of us believes in, and when we patch in, it’s for life—because we choose it. Not because someone is forcing our hand, not out of desperation or coercion. It’s a deep, unwavering loyalty to the club, its values, and each other.
After passing through the gates, my bike rolls to a stop, the music blaring from inside, and a steady thump of bass that consumes your heartbeat and throbs between your ears reaches me as I cut my engine.
It’s a typical Friday—the boys looking for a reason tocelebrate, and the patch bunnies looking to spend their night in someone’s bed with hopes of becoming an old lady.
The doors are pushed open, and people spill out onto the porch, drinks in hand and having a good time. The open room is filled with leather cuts and half-naked women. Brothers play pool and darts, letting loose and having a good time, while others are already getting their dicks wet with patch bunnies out in the open.
I head to the bar to show my face before I need to set up in the back. Tonight, I’m tattooing instead of partying, which is much more my style anyway. Any activity that I can do that empties my head and frees my soul, I’d prefer. Despite my large size, I’ve never been the loudest in the room, preferring to keep to the back in the quiet. That’s not to say that I don’t know how to have a good time, given the right circumstances.
“Hey, Rogue. What can I get ya?”
“Hey,” I say in greeting to one of our prospects working the bar tonight. “Jack and Coke. Tattooing tonight and gotta keep my head straight. You want anything done? Know you’ve been itching to add some more.”
“Nah, Prez has got me working the bar all night, then I’m on cleanup duty.”
I wince on his behalf. Cleanup duty sucks after a rager. “Damn, man. I feel for you. I hear the vote is soon, though, so keep doin’ what you’re doin’. You’ll be patched soon enough, and all the shit duty will be in the past and for some new prospect to deal with.”
“You think?”
I give him a nonchalant shrug, but my face is all smiles as I sip on the cool liquid he set in front of me. He’s a good guy, and I have a feeling the vote will go in his favor. The noise is thunderous all around me, and I know I need to head to the back to get set up before I get pulled into it.
I stand up and adjust my cut before walking through the main part of the house, trying to avoid any patch bunnies who will be giving it their best shot to convince me to claim them as mine for the night. Most of them are fun, sexy things that satisfy a completely primal urge, but tonight I’m working and need to focus; the last thing I need is the distraction of pussy.
Just as I’m about to step into the hallway off the main area, my path is blocked by a blonde bombshell in a red dress and heels.
“Hey, Rogue,” Callie purrs as she drags her manicured nails down my chest. Nails I know all too well, having felt them rake down my back in the past. Maybe my focus can wait. I bend my knees so I can wrap my arm around her back, my free hand grabbing her jaw as I move us to the closest wall. She hitches her leg around my hip as I grip her ass hard with my palm, squeezing just enough around her throat with my other to get her attention.
I’ve hooked up with Callie on more than a few occasions, and I know she’s hoping I’ll make her my old lady someday, but it’s not going to happen. She’s hooked up with me enough to know that I have two rules: no kissing on the mouth, and I won’t be making you my old lady. After a few failed attempts, she no longer tries. Which makes things easier on me.
A hard hand slaps the back of my shoulder, pulling Callie’s mouth from my neck, where she’s sucking on me like a fuckin’ vampire.
“Rogue. I’m ready, let’s get going.”
I drop Callie’s leg to the ground, her face pinching into a pout as she whines.
“Sorry, babe, duty calls. Maybe next time,” I say with a wink, taking a step back and putting space between us.
“Don’t worry, sweet thing, I’ll keep you warm,” Noose chuckles as he wraps an arm around Callie’s shoulder. Sheperks right up, her glassy eyes shining bright and looking at him like he hung the moon.
When I was brought into Hell’s Heathens, I learned real quick that sharing the patch bunnies was common. All of them are here of their own free will and can come and go as they please. Most of them sleep with patch members, and none of us have ever given it much thought. We’re all clean and test regularly, and there’s no jealousy. It’s not a bad setup when you don’t have the time or energy to date.
But that’s a huge reason why—those of us who care—won’t make one of them our old lady. It’s the same reason I don’t kiss any of them on the mouth. I reserve that right for the person I’m in a relationship with, whenever that time comes. There’s something more intimate about kissing than fucking. I’ll fuck someone one of my brother’s has been inside before me, but I’m not going to kiss her or make her mine permanently.
Sin and I head to the backroom where Ink and I have set up a makeshift studio for the club. While he works the majority of his time at Heathen Ink, one of the club’s legitimate businesses, I tattoo here. I’d love to own my own shop one day and am saving every extra penny to make that dream happen.
“You ready to get this sleeve finished?” I ask him. We’ve been working on a long-term project of fine line work that covers every inch of his arm, fingers to pec, and the next several hours should finish him up. The guy is about my size—six-four and 260 pounds—and is one of the toughest assholes here, but he hates needles. We should have had this work done in two eight-to-ten-hour sessions, but here we are, session six.
Sin shrugs, looking slightly green as he takes off his cut and hangs it on one of the hooks on the wall.
“Let’s get this shit over with.”
I laugh at him. “Why even do it if you hate it so much?”
“Love the ink, you know what it means to me. Just hate the process. Any chance Stitch got his hands on some Propofol?”
“Believe it or not, he couldn’t. You’re gonna have to stay awake for this.” I continue to shake my head and laugh at him. I move through my routine, opening new tools and setting up my ink, getting the green soap ready, and opening a new roll of towels. The room is painted deep black with my tattoo table in the center, and overhead lights pour directly over us, giving me the lighting I need.
I lay out all my supplies on the black rolling table and grab my pens and markers to get started.
