Goldie(Night Rebels MC Romance Book 4)
Chiah Wilder
Chapter One
The tattoo shop bustled as young men and women filed in to make a statement on their skin. The weekends at Get Inked were crazy since it was the only tattoo and piercing shop that looked decent. Bent Needles, the shop's competitor, had been cited for health violations numerous times by the county. The Night Rebels owned Get Inked, and customers felt comfortable in the clean, professional-looking establishment. The ochre-yellow walls and dark brown laminate floors had a calming effect on people who paid to have needles pierce their designs into their skin.
"Did Flora ever call?" Tattoo Mike asked Goldie as he slipped a wad of cash into the cash register.
"Nope. I tried calling and texting her a bunch of times. It'd be a big help if we had a receptionist tonight. It sucks to have to run the counter and do the ink. We should fire her ass. This is the second Saturday she's pulled this shit." Goldie ran his hand through his short hair.
"I already have an ad online and in the paper. She's history." Tattoo Mike glanced over the appointment book. "We gotta start limiting walk-ins on the weekends. You got any appointments for tonight?"
"I just finished with my last one. You?"
"I got two, and both of them are pretty intense in design. Looks like you, Skull, and Jimmy are gonna have to handle the walk-ins."
"No problem. I'm going to get a club girl over here to handle the front desk." Goldie picked up his phone and dialed one of his brothers. "Dude. We need one of the girls to help out tonight. That bitch Flora was a no-show again. We're slammed and it's just gonna get worse. Seems like everyone wants a tat or a piercing after downing a few shots." Goldie chuckled.
"I'll bring one of the girls over. The bitch just lost her job," Paco said.
"Tattoo Mike's already got an ad out. Thanks, dude. See you in a few." Goldie set his phone down and looked up as Skull approached.
"Jimmy's sick as shit. There's no way he can work on anyone." Skull pulled out a bottle of root beer from the mini fridge behind the counter.
"Fuck! Tattoo Mike's got two customs." Goldie clasped the back of his neck and rubbed it hard.
Jimmy was the only citizen tattoo artist who worked at Get Inked. He'd been working there for over five years and his work was impeccable. The club had talked about taking on another citizen artist part-time, but they hadn't found anyone they thought was good enough and fit into the overall vibe of the shop. The tattoo parlor didn't just have customers from Alina; citizens from the outlying county and as far away as Durango came to the shop. Their reputation for having top-notched tattoo artists was known throughout the southwestern part of Colorado.
"Looks like we'll be hustling our asses in about another hour." Skull looked at the wall clock that was surrounded by framed pictures of tattooed men and women. The clock read eleven; soon people would be leaving the bars. "I hope I don't have to kick anyone's ass tonight. We don't have time for that shit." Skull guzzled the root beer.
Goldie nodded. The road captain for the Night Rebels usually loved a good fight, but not when he was working and needed to concentrate on what the hell he was doing. Many people staggered in drunk and loud, demanding to have a tattoo or a piercing. The policy was to turn them away. Sometimes they had to get tough and throw them out, and there was always someone who thought he could fight them. It really got under Goldie's skin.
"Hey, guys," Kelly said as she walked through the door. She was the club girl who usually offered to help out at the club's businesses if they needed backup.
"Hey. You're the receptionist for the next three hours." Goldie moved aside as she squeezed in behind the counter, rubbing her behind against him.
"You owe me. I was right in the middle of getting real cozy with one of the Fallen Slayers. He was cute too."
The Fallen Slayers MC was a club the Night Rebels were friendly with. They lived about an hour away in Silverado and would come to the club's weekend parties. Once in a while, the Night Rebels would go to Silverado to shoot some pool with them or hang at one of their parties.
"You guys need anything else?" Paco asked.
Goldie smiled. "No. You anxious to get back to the party? How's the citizen turnout tonight?"
"Fucking awesome." Paco lifted his eyebrows.
"Damn. We need to be there." Skull came out from behind the counter and sank down onto one of the black leather couches against the wall.
"They'll still be there when we get off," Goldie said.
Paco nodded. "If you don't need anything else, I'm outta here."
Goldie lifted his chin. "Catch you later, dude."
Two guys walked in and approached the counter. "We'd like to get a tattoo," the taller one said to Kelly.
She turned to Goldie. "You available?"
He eyed the two guys. "How old are you?"
The shorter one turned red and looked at the floor, but the tall one said, "Eighteen."
"Bullshit. You guys don't even look sixteen. Show me some ID."
"I left my license at home," the tall one said; the short one kept staring at the floor.
"No ID, no tattoo. Pretty simple."
The tall one shifted from one foot to another. "We heard you guys were cool here. That this was owned by the Night Rebels."
"It is owned by the Night Rebels, and we're cool as fuck. I still need to see your IDs. If you're eighteen, you'll go back to one of the rooms. It you don't have any IDs, then you'll have to come back when you do."
"But we have the money and are ready-"
Goldie held up his hands. "Now you're just pissing me off, kid. I'm not negotiating with you. I'm telling you that you're not getting a fuckin' tattoo without any ID telling me you're eighteen. So hit the pavement."
The shorter teenager moved away from the counter. "Let's go, Tyler."
"We'll just go to Bent Needles." Tyler glared at Goldie.
"Do whatever you want, but you're not getting tatted in this shop."
"I'm not going there. My cousin went there and got a massive infection in his leg. Let's just go home. My mom will be pissed if I'm late again tonight." The shorter guy moved toward the door.
"Just shut the fuck up, Brandon." Tyler clenched his fists and stormed out.
Goldie, Skull, and Kelly laughed.
"I'm so glad I'm not a teenager anymore. Those years were hell," Kelly said as she wiggled on the stool.
"You're not kidding," Skull said as he glanced at two men who'd just come in.
Soon Skull was in a room with one guy and Goldie was with the other. Thankful his customer wanted a simple design, Goldie stood and stretched forty-five minutes later while the man slipped on his shirt. "Remember to keep the bandage on until the morning. No sun for at least three weeks. Follow everything on this sheet of paper and you should be good. It you have problems or questions, give us a call." He handed the aftercare list to the customer, who paid Kelly and handed a twenty to Goldie. "Appreciate it, man."
The client nodded and walked out.
"Why'd you shave off your beard? I thought Army bet you couldn't grow it longer than Diablo's."
"I couldn't fuckin' stand it. It itched, and I was scratching my face all the time. I gladly gave Army his winnings." He ran his hand over his smooth face.
"I like you either way, sweetie. Skull's still working on his guy. I've gotta pee." Kelly slid off the stool and scratched Goldie's back with her fingernails. "I like your muscles. They make me horny." She winked at him and leaned in. "You wanna fool around?"
Her body was soft against his, and the scent of orange blossom invaded his nostrils. He wasn't fond of overbearing fragrances, and many of the club girls bathed themselves in it, including this one. He stepped back. "I thought you had to pee."
"I do. Just thinking about when I get back." She squirmed in place, then rushed to the bathroom at the end of the hall.
He watched her go. Normally he'd be all over it, but right then he wasn't feeling it. He was restless and had been for a couple of months. What he was restless about, he couldn't say; he just wanted something different from what he had. Of course, he had his pick of women, and he was the first to admit unabashedly that he was a player. What could he say? He loved women-all types. But for the past couple of months, he hadn't felt that energized when he'd been screwing the club girls. It'd begun to seem routine.
He perched on the edge of the stool, pulled out a copy of Easyriders, and thumbed through it. As he was reading an article, the door opened and loud giggling filled his ears. He looked up and saw three women, but the one in the middle made his blood pump. She kept covering her full pink lips with her hand as if to suppress her snigger. Her chestnut hair had blonde streaks in it as though the sun had kissed it, and it cascaded past her shoulders, which were bare.
Then she looked at him. Her eyes were seriously blue-field of cornflower, summer desert sky at noon. Perfect. Her hand dropped down to her side and her lips parted. Goldie watched every movement, wishing he could slip his tongue into her mouth for a quick taste.