SIX (3 page)

I scanned the bar, happy to see it busy in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday.

My stomach tightened when I noticed a young guy scrunched up over a plate of food like someone was going to snatch it away from him.

His big, round green eyes darted from side to side, watching for incoming attacks. I could recognize someone who’d done time before. His mannerisms gave him away and told me he had a harder time serving his sentence than I had. He was tall, but not filled out, and looked young, maybe early twenties, possibly younger.

He had soft features, pretty even.

I made my way across the bar. His eyes widened and shot to me as my shadow darkened his table.

An open sketch pad next to his plate drew my attention. An array of abstract, delicate, flowing bold lines showed his skill, the tone dramatic and contrast strong. Slipping into the opposite seat, I studied him for a silent beat or two while he stared at me, wide-eyed and cautious.

“I paid for it,” he quickly piped up, practically hugging his plate.

“Glad to hear it, nothing comes for free.” His eyes followed mine to his pad and he quickly snatched it up, hugging it to his chest.

He was jumpy and it made my stomach twist to imagine what he endured inside.

“What were you in for?”

“How’d you know?” His brow furrowed and he looked around the bar like he would be arrested or attacked at any minute.

“The way you’re eating. I’ve been inside, kid.”

His shoulders appeared to relax at my words. “I did two years for theft.”

“What did you steal?”

“Art supplies.” He stretched his neck, lifting his chin.

“You running from something, someone?”

His shoulders raised and fell.

“My mom moved while I was inside. I was hoping to track her and my kid brother down.”

“They move here?”

Shrugging again, his eyes dipped.

“Maybe. I don’t know. This is the seventh town I’ve looked in.”

He was abandoned by his mother while serving his sentence.

“You ever tried inking your work on skin?”

Roaming the ink on my arms, excitement lit his eyes.

“I’ve always wanted to.” He edged forward on his chair. “Do you tattoo?”

“I own the shop in the back. I’m looking for someone to train.”

Sitting back, I let the information settle between us.

“And you’d want me, just like that?” he questioned, his tone accusing.

“What else would you want from me?” A dark cloud stormed in his green eyes.

“Well, for starters, I’d expect respect for myself, my shop, and the bar. No stealing. Hard work and commitment.”

“You haven’t even seen if I can draw.”

Pointing to his book, I nodded my head at him.

“I’ve seen enough. You want a job or not?”

“I do.” He stood abruptly and then quickly sat, heat flaming his cheeks.

I liked his enthusiasm and it was apparent the kid hadn’t been given many breaks in life, a feeling I knew well.

Ten was the first real friend I ever had.

When you joined a gang, you were in a brotherhood and those brothers would die for you, but it wasn’t about you as a person—it was about the gang.

Bonds were formed, but when it came down to it, they’d kill you in a heartbeat if they were ordered to.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Lewis, Lewis Weathers.” He leaned over and offered his hand. I smiled and took it.

“I’m going to call you Lucky Seven.”

“Why?”

“Because this is your seventh town. Hopefully it will be as lucky for you as it has been for me. I’m Six, I own this place.”

“Six? What does that stand for?”

“Revenge.”

My cell chimes, drawing me out of my memories.

Haley’s name lights up the screen and as always, my heart dips and guilt drenches me.

“Hey, beautiful. How are you?”

“I’m doing better. I’ll be able to leave here soon.” She doesn’t sound better.

She’s back in the institute from cutting again, only this time, she went too deep. She bounced between that place and assisted housing with other women who had mental scars from a fucked up life.

Drugs became an escape for Haley when I went down and she refused to see me. Told me she wasn’t the same person and didn’t want me to remember her the way she was now, but that was all in her head.

She would always be my Haley—the fifteen-year-old girl ready to take on the world.

“I’m clean now, but they just don’t understand what it’s like inside my head when the drugs aren’t in my system to drown out my thoughts.”

I hoped she would find peace within herself and a way to move on with her life, to find happiness, but it’s never going to happen for her.

The damage they inflicted was everlasting—scars reminding her daily of what they robbed her of.

Her body was so badly damaged, every inch bruised and degraded.

Her pelvis was fractured, leaving her womb with the fate of being forever barren, and the rival gang’s name was cut into her young cheek, marking her forever.

I’ve never seen anything as brutal as what they did to my girl.

My demons drag me back there, holding me hostage.

Sixteen years ago:

Storming up and down the corridor of the hospital did nothing to calm me, but if I stopped moving, I might have imploded. I pulled my cell from my pocket and re-read Jordon’s text.

Hammer knows.

Jordon wasn’t your typical gang member.

He was bred into the life.

His older brother, Hammer, was the leader of the Vipers, so Jordon wasn’t really given a choice on whether he would become one.

Every time we were together, it was like a different life and I was a new person. Being with him taught me about myself and the life I could have had if I hadn’t gotten myself caught up with the Eternal Kings.

In the beginning, they offered a lot and I only saw the positives—belonging to something for the first time in my life was appealing to someone who had always felt hollow.

Crime was a small price to pay and something I no doubt would have been doing regardless.

Career goals were never something I’d thought about. I’d scraped through high school and dropped out when I was fifteen, packed up, left my newest foster home, and went out on my own.

I met a guy called Sticks at a street fighting circuit.

He saw me fight and win and introduced me to gang life. I was quickly enlisted. Taking a beating from ten members as initiation was one of the hardest things I ever had to do.

When you’ve defended yourself and built walls all your life, letting them down and not hitting back was rough.

Little too late for that news.

Hammer’s name was cut into Haley’s chest.

He was going to suffer by my hands and there was nothing Jordon could do about it.

Every part of me that harbored love and affection for him evaporated into nothing when I found Haley cut up and molested.

How could I risk her—risk everything for my own selfish needs?

I grabbed the cop as he exited her room and he removed my hand with a shove.

“What are you going to do?” I demanded, heaving like a dragon ready to breathe fire.

“There’s not a lot we can do without evidence.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Lower your voice or I’ll arrest you for disturbing the peace.”

“You’ll arrest me, but you won’t do anything to the fuckers who raped a girl nearly to death?”

We’d gathered the attention of the hospital staff, but I was ready to leap out of my skin and into his so I could tear him apart from the inside out.

“I didn’t say that. We need to wait to see if any evidence comes back from the lab.”

“She has names etched into her skin,” I spat.

“Gang names. They could be anyone.”

“So bring every Viper in.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, and maybe learn something from this.”

Fucking pigs were useless cunts who didn’t want to get involved in gang crimes. They saw us as lesser human beings, and maybe I was, but Haley—she wasn’t, and she deserved her justice.

She deserved for them to take what happened to her seriously.

How could he see the destruction they caused her and be so flippant? He barged past me and vomit stuck in my throat as a rage that needed an outlet built even more. I would make them pay.

I pushed open her door and stopped at the sight.

One eye was still sealed shut from swelling and bandages covered her cheeks and arms. She looked like a mummy and I just wished this was all a joke.

I wanted nothing more than to take her home and pretend I never met Jordon. Pushing down the pain in my chest and fighting back the rage steadily growing, I came closer, but she shook her head no.

“Don’t look at me,” she muffled out through her wired shut jaw.

She was holding a pen and there was a pad laid out on the bed table in front of her. Scribbling something down, she tore it off and handed it to me before waving toward the door, instructing me to leave.

Nurses were gathered at the front desk talking about Haley as I passed them, one in tears.

“I’ve never seen anything like it before.

She had a severe perineum tear.” A blonde shook her head.

“Extreme brachiovaginal eroticism damaged her womb so bad, the surgeons had to remove it.

She will never get over this,” another added, consoling the nurse too upset to speak.

I didn’t even know what that meant, I just knew I needed to kill.

“She’s high risk for infection and suicide.

We have to take shifts sitting in her room until she can be moved to psych.”

How could they just chat about her in the corridors where anyone could hear them? Fuck them. Fuck this.

“Are you still there?” Haley’s voice draws me from the past.

“Yeah, angel.” I don’t say any more, knowing she doesn’t want me to.

She just needs someone to listen without claiming things will get better.

“The physical scars heal, but the inner pain people can’t see…it never stops hurting, it doesn’t heal. Will I ever be normal?”

Her heavy breathing causes a crackle down the line and I want to reach through and cradle her to me.

Folding my body into a chair behind the desk at the front of the shop, I grab a pen and scribble down my promise to her on a piece of paper, over and over.

“You are normal,” I tell her.

“I’m a ghost and you know it. I died that day.”

“You survived. No one can fathom the strength you have.”

The pen snaps in my hand and ink stains over my skin and onto the paper drowning the words I’d written there.

“I should be over this. It’s been a lifetime,” she sighs.

“Who tells you that? There’s no time limit on healing, Hay.”

My legs have me standing and now pacing the floor.

“I’m scared, Tay.”

My heart hammers and my feet still.

“What?” I breathe.

“Fear is a constant since you’ve gotten out.”

A sniffle down the line hurts my heart.

“I’m terrified they’ll come for you…for me.” Anger coils my body tight and I have to keep moving or I may start fucking up the shop to gain control of the need to destroy everyone and everything.

“I will never let them hurt you again, I swear to you.”

“Max is calling me. I need to go.”

Max?
I place a hand on my hip and straighten my body like the phone will be intimidated or some shit.

“Wait, who is Max?” I ask, my tone deep and wary.

“He’s my friend. I need to go. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Always.”

Max
, I repeat in my mind, over and over, and it makes my jaw twitch.

I don’t like the idea of her having male friends.

She’s vulnerable and men know when a chick is easy pickings.

We’re assholes.

I have to fight my own instincts and let her be.

Haley is a grown woman and no matter how much I want to be around to make sure she’s safe and not being taken advantage of, I haven’t been there for a long time—haven’t been allowed to be.

The only contact we’ve had were calls from prison, and now calls from wherever she is at any time. She still refuses to see me, even after all these years.

I remind her too much of that day and what could have been our life.

Setting up the workstation for a ten a.m. appointment, I check my watch to see how much time I have left before the client gets here and notice I forgot to put it on this morning.

Just another thing to add to the shit pile today is becoming.

I need to immerse myself in work.

If I don’t, I’m going to fucking lose my shit today between the crap with Misty and now Haley.