Ink (The Haven Series) (6 page)

Throwing her leather jacket at her, Sketch didn’t give the poor girl time to think, let alone speak. Herding her towards Colton, he practically pushed them both out the door. “Go. It’ll blow away the cobwebs – and I ain’t letting ya loose on customers ‘til you’re thinking straight anyway. If you can throw coffee over the floor, fuc
k knows what you’d make of ink right now! And Colt?”

The biker paused in his tracks, his keys in his hand and a questioning look on his face.

“Bring her back in one piece.”

***

CHAPTER 7

Tugging on her jacket and watching as Colton strode across the sidewalk towards his bike, Callie couldn’t help the half-smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone look more like a biker in her life.

It sounded painfully obvious, but she was pretty sure you could take the Harley out of the scenario - the leather vest too - and still get the same result. That fearlessness. A confident swagger in his step that oozed danger and yet held a certain air of invincibility.

It wasn’t down to the heavy motorcycle boots or the thick chain that swung from his baggy jeans as they rode low on his hips. It wasn’t even the tattoos or the shaved head. Just something that was indescribably, yet undeniably,
him
.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know,” Colton said, as he threw a leg over his bike. He simply pulled his helmet from the handlebars and reached it to her, dark humour in his eyes at the thought of anyone making him do something he didn’t want to do. “You gettin’ on?”

Usually nimble fingers fumbled with the unfamiliarity of the buckle, but Callie put it on before faltering unsurely by her unexpected companion’s side. “Any advice for a first-timer?”

Colton shrugged. “Hold tight. Don’t fall off.”

Favouring him with a wry look, Callie shook her head and laughed, wondering what else she had been expecting from the notoriously stoic guy. “Sage words, Colt ... sage words.” And with a hand on his shoulder for balance, she slid onto the bike behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Let’s do this.”

***

Watching from the doorway as the Harley peeled away, Sketch shook his head and wondered if he’d done a good thing.

Usually the answer to that sort of question was, nine times out of ten, no. He tended to act first, think later. A bad enough habit when his actions only affected himself. But the thought of messing up when it came to Callie was, despite his tendencies towards nonchalance on most subjects, enough to cause him at least some concern.

The girl had somehow wriggled her way into his life until he’d come to think of her less as an employee and more like a kid sister – one he could wind up no end, but also back to the hilt against anyone else. He’d never want to smother the girl or push his nose into her business, but he couldn’t help feeling just a little protective. It wasn’t like she had anyone else.

And he and Colton went way back. Back before either of them had a record, when their biggest crimes had been the occasional joyride. That had been a once carefree past-time of their misspent youth, one which finally landed them both a stretch inside for grand theft auto. Everything had changed after that.

Sketch was shrewder than he often let on. You had to be pretty on the ball to come out of prison unscathed. So, while Colton was more than good at shutting out the world and keeping himself to himself, the tattooist had still picked up on the ever-so-slight changes in his demeanour when he was around the little blonde.

He was ... less on his guard, for a start. Of course, that meant he was still more closed off than your average guy – but for Colton to warm at all to anyone outside the circle of his beloved club, or the even smaller circle of acquaintances from his life before the Fallen Brothers, was worth noting.

It was true Callie was no longer just some chick to the biker – she’d earned his respect through her craft and at least a degree of trust over how she’d handled herself when it mattered most and how she’d stepped up for him. But it was more than that. Or perhaps the rest had come first, Sketch couldn’t be sure of that.

He had to hand it to Colton, there probably wasn’t much call for it round the clubhouse, but the guy could definitely be subtle when he wanted. It had taken him a while to catch on to the glances. At first, he’d actually thought the biker was just trying to figure the girl out. But eventually he’d looked beyond the reputation and realised that even the man who’d essentially become his club’s hitman was only human. And Colton always had been into blondes ...

Going back to his office to work on some designs, Sketch sighed as he doodled absently on a scrap of paper.

In so many ways, Colton was toxic – especially for a girl like Callie, nearly fifteen years his junior and harder than she looked but not nearly as hard as she liked to think. He was too used to the club’s usual female followers, though Sketch knew he didn’t exactly think highly of them. His attraction to Callie was probably due, at least in part, to the fact that she wasn’t just some cheap slut to be shared around by his brothers. Although her looks probably helped, more than a little.

If he considered himself to have any kind of big brother role in the little blonde’s life, he probably should have been doing his damndest to keep her and Colton apart. Regardless of his friendship with the ruthless biker.

But lately Sketch had noticed a change in Callie too. Some of the spark had gone out of her eyes and he didn’t like it one bit. And while she wasn’t volunteering anything that gave him an insight, he could only speculate as to the cause.

If he didn’t know better, he’d have said there was a guy involved. Couldn’t put his finger on why he’d jump to that conclusion, but it seemed to make sense to him. But she wasn’t seeing anyone because she’d have told him if she was and she hadn’t, so that was that.

In fact, the girl had been single for over a year now – since she’d finally dropped that cocky little bastard who’d somehow gotten his grubby paws on her and then pissed all over what he’d been lucky enough to have, before finally getting caught out just weeks before Callie’s twenty-seventh birthday.

Jeff, that had been his name. A loud-mouthed punk who, at nearly thirty, had yet to grow out of the immaturity guys seemed to manage to cling to longer than girls. And that was coming from Sketch, who knew he himself had been a real mouthy shit in his younger days – just as he knew Callie would probably laugh at the suggestion he’d grown up any ...

FLASHBACK

“Aww, guys!” Callie squealed at the sight of the candle-topped cake making its way towards their table. “You really shouldn’t have!”

“We didn’t - it’s for the chick at the next table,” Sketch deadpanned from beside her, earning himself a playful – albeit less than gentle - whack on the arm. “Hey, watch it!” he laughed, pulling her into a hug to appease her and planting a loud smack of a kiss on her cheek.

The birthday celebrations had somehow stretched out over most of the day and, even though they’d been pacing themselves, the motley crew of revellers were well on their way to drunkenness. The few friends Callie had made in Haven had united to ensure the newly single blonde didn’t spend today of all days alone and miserable.

“Ooh, champagne – seriously, you didn’t have to. But I’m so glad you did!” the birthday girl exclaimed, as the barman presented her with a huge bottle of Bollinger while another started setting out glasses.

“We didn’t,” Sketch frowned. “No, really this time. Come on, kid – we love ya an’ all, but a hundred bucks on a bottle of fizz? Ain’t exactly our style ...”

“See the guy over there in the tie?” the barman nodded, sending all heads turning to follow the line of the gesture. “He says
happy birthday
. This is on his tab.”

“You know him, Cal?” Emily, a friend from her apartment block, asked curiously as she spotted the older man offering Callie a smile and a casual wave from across the club. But she shook her head, a look of surprise still etched on her face. “Wow, looks like someone’s got themselves an admirer.”

“You
what
?” Sketch spluttered indignantly, nearly choking on his drink and shooting another look at the guy before glaring at the redhead. “He’s old enough to be her damn
daddy!
”

“Don’t you mean her sugar-daddy?” Emily teased, elbowing a now blushing Callie. “Oh, calm down, Sketch – we all got free champagne, didn’t we? We should pimp Blondie here out more often. And didn’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Shit, what time is it? Aw, man ... Callie, I gotta jet, girl – promised Leon I’d spin over at the Vault tonight. Said I’d be there like twenty minutes ago. C’mere and give me some love, darlin’.” He stood and pulled her to her feet to wrap her in a bear hug. “Happy birthday, kiddo – go wild ...” But he frowned as he clocked her looking over his shoulder and across the room. “Oi, not that wild. You deserve better than some old perve, even one who’s flash with the cash.”

“Relaaaax,” she beamed, more than a little tipsy as she grabbed her glass of champagne and downed it in one before plopping back down on her seat. “I’m just having a little fun! Because it’s my birthday and I’m gonna forget
alllll
about Jeff fucking Jacobsen – just like you told me ...”

And despite himself, Sketch smiled. “Atta girl. Back at work Monday, okay?”

“Bye, Etch-A-Sketch!” she waved as she nodded, reaching for another a refill as he left. Her gaze drifted as soon as his back was turned though, meeting cool blue eyes that crinkled at the edges when that smile was offered in her direction again.

***

Reaching the town limits, Colton couldn’t have said for sure whether it was his own love of the open road or the little whoop of excitement from the girl behind him that soon had the needle on his speedometer creeping up and up. Her arms tightened around his waist and the insides of her knees grazed his thighs, denim on denim. Long blonde hair streamed out behind her.

He didn’t let many chicks ride bitch with him. No way was he laying down his bike because some broad had got her ridiculously impractical heels caught on something. Neither was he listening to anyone bitching about their skirt being too tight, how the wind would mess up their hair, or any of that shit.

But Callie had donned her jacket, slapped on a brain-bucket and climbed on. Zero fuss.
His kind of woman ...
He squashed that thought before it had time to take hold though, concentrating on taking a corner with a little more care than he would on his own.

Truth be told, he hadn’t known where he was heading when they set out. But now, spotting a familiar road ahead, Colton knew exactly where they were going to end up. He reached to tap one of the hands on his stomach,
getting Callie’s attention and then pointing the way. Finally, they pulled onto what was more of a dirt track and followed it slowly until it widened out into a clearing at the top of an incline.

The bike rolled to a stop before Colton planted his feet and killed the engine, Callie sliding off from behind him almost before he had time to look around. But when he did, he could see the sparkle in her eyes and the glow the wind had brought to her cheeks as she stood beside him and burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, Colton – that was amazing!” she said, once again fumbling with the strap of her helmet - this time in her eagerness. “It was like ... like ... flying!”

He couldn’t help the rare grin that appeared unbidden on seeing her so taken with the experience, beckoning her closer and then leaning over to undo the awkward buckle himself. Dark eyes locked on s
oft gray as he reached for her.

And simply turned her around without a word to point out the view.

Smirking just a little as he got the gasp he’d been expecting, Colton watched the girl take it all in. Her back was to him as she wandered towards a small wooden picnic table closer to the edge of the hillside, looking out over the town as it lay in the midst of the otherwise rugged landscape. Sitting down on the bench, she slowly shook her head - almost disbelievingly.

“I’m down there every day,” Callie said softly as he joined her, sparing him a glance as he perched on the table top beside her and reached in the pocket of his cut for his cigarettes. Everything else, Michael included, just dwindled into insignificance when faced with all of Haven laid out in front of them. Everything faded away until it was just her. And Colton. And the view. “And I kinda forget all this is there ...”

Sparking up, he took a long drag and blew out a lazy stream of smoke before he replied with a shrug. “Good place to clear your head.”

“I’m getting that,” she nodded thoughtfully. Shooting him a small smile, she leaned in to bump his leg companionably with her shoulder. “Thank you for this.”

“Welcome.”

***

CHAPTER 8

Content to watch the girl from his perch as she got up to wander aimlessly to the very edge of the hillside, Colton’s gaze drifted appreciatively over the view. Her slim curves were his focus, rather than the town though.

She was so different, both from what he was used to and from what he had once expected her to be.

The women who flocked to the clubhouse were usually striking rather than pretty. They relied on the most revealing of outfits, often surgically enhanced figures and faces full of make-up to catch the attention of the Fallen – however fleetingly.