Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
BLACKOUT
The steady hum of my tattoo gun filled the shop, a sound that had become second nature to me. I guided the needle along the client’s forearm, carefully shading the black and grey skull with a snake weaving through its eye sockets. It was classic and bold, exactly the kind of work I liked.
“Almost done,” I muttered, wiping away excess ink. The guy grunted, barely reacting to the sting. Good. I hated when clients squirmed. Finishing up, I wrapped the tattoo, gave him the usual aftercare instructions and collected my cash. As he walked out, I peeled off my gloves, tossing them into the bin just as Saint, the next prospect to be patched in, leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed.
“You ready?” he asked, nodding toward the exit.
“Yeah.” I grabbed my leather jacket, shrugging it on as we stepped outside. The midday sun hit hard, bouncing off the pavement but I ignored it. My focus was already on the diner around the corner. It wasn’t fancy… Just a hole-in-the-wall that served decent burgers and strong coffee. More importantly, it was neutral ground, a place where the Highway Jokers didn’t have to watch their backs.
I pushed the door open, the familiar scent of grease and coffee wrapping around me. Saint walked ahead, nodding at a waitress he clearly knew. I started to follow but froze mid-step when my eyes landed on a booth near the window. Isla.
She was damn near identical to Blaire, but different in ways that weren’t just physical. Blaire had warmth, a softness even when she was pissed. Isla? She looked like she could cut a man down with just a look. Sharp edges, guarded posture, like she was ready to throw a punch if someone so much as breathed wrong.
She hadn’t noticed me yet, too focused on her phone. I wasn’t the type to let things– or people– get in my head, but seeing here twisted something in my gut. I shook it off, forcing myself to slide into the booth across from Saint and focus on the menu.
“You good?” Saint asked, watching me over the top of his menu.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Just hungry.”
But even as I said it, my eyes drifted back to Isla. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the last time I’d be seeing her.
The waitress came by, taking our orders, and I barely registered what I asked for, probably a burger, maybe fires. My focus was still on Isla. I watched as she reached for her coffee, her fingers wrapped around the mug like she was holding something far more dangerous. She took a slow sip, her lips pressing together as she read something on her phone, her brow furrowing slightly.
Saint followed my line of sight, then smirked. “Something about Blaire’s sister got you all twisted up?”
I shot him a look. “Mind your business.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Just saying, man. You don’t usually stare at women like that.”
I wasn’t staring. At least, not in a way that meant anything. Or maybe I was. Fuck if I knew. There was just something about her that unsettled me, something I couldn’t put finger on. I’d seen plenty of women come and go, but Isla carried herself differently.. Like she wasn’t afraid of anything, but also like she didn’t trust anyone.
The thought struck me harder than it should have. Maybe because I knew what that felt like.
Just as I was about to force my attention away, a man approached her table. Tall, clean-cut, with an expensive-looking jacket– definitely not from around here. He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before sliding into the booth across from her. Isla barely reacted, her expression neutral, but something about the way her shoulders tensed didn’t sit right with me.
“Huh,” Saint muttered, noticing it too. “Guess she’s taken.”
I clenched my jaw, ignoring the way that fact sat like a weight in my chest. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter. But for some reason, I couldn’t stop watching.
The guy spoke to her in low tones, his hand reaching across the table to grab hers. Isla let him, but there was a stiffness in her posture that didn’t sit right with me. Her fingers barely curled around his before she pulled away, reaching for her coffee again instead. He said something else, and this time, I saw the way her jaw tightened, the slight shift in her expression– annoyance, maybe even frustration. Then it shifted.
The guy’s voice got sharper, his words cutting through the low hum of the diner. I couldn’t hear what he said, but the effect was instant. Isla flinched, her fingers tightening around the mug. When he slammed his hand down on the table, she actually jumped, her entire body tensing like she expected something worse.
That was all I needed to see.
Saint must’ve noticed too because he let out a low whistle. “Well, shit. That’s not good.”
Not, it wasn’t. My fingers curled into fists under the table as I watched the guy lean in, his voice still low but his movements sharp. Isla nodded stiffly, her hands curled in her lap now. She wasn’t arguing. Wasn’t fighting back. Just sitting there, stiff as a board. Then, he grabbed her wrist.
She flinched hard, her breath hitching. I saw it. The raw, unfiltered fear flashed across her face before she smothered it, locking herself down. But it was too late. My blood was already boiling.
“That’s enough,” I jittered under my breath, shoving out of the booth before I knew what I was doing.
Saint sighed. “Here we go,”
I didn’t care. My boots thudded against the diner floor as I strode towards them, my glare locked on the bastard gripping her wrist. He was too busy hissing something at her to notice me at first, but Isla’s eyes flicked up, widening slightly when she saw me.
The guy must’ve caught the shift because he turned, his expression twisting into an annoyed scowl. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice flat. “You can let go of her. Now.”
He blinked at me, then scoffed, giving Isla’s wrist a squeeze before finally letting go. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“It does now.”
His jaw clenched, his eyes scanning over me, probably sizing me up. I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. I just let him see exactly what kind of man he was dealing with.
Isla’s breathing was shallow, her fingers flexing slightly like she wasn’t sure what to do with them now that she was free. I glanced at herm my tone gentler when I when, “You good?”
She hesitated, then nodded once. But I wasn’t convinced. Neither was he. The guy huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I don't know who you think you are, but–”
“Blackout,” I cut in, my voice dropping. “That’s who I am. And I suggest you remember it.”
“You're hanging out with the local scum now?” the guy asked Isla but she just looked down at her coffee mug as her hands trembled.
“I think you need to leave,” I told him. The guy stared up at me with a glare but slowly got up and walked out the door. “Are you okay?” I asked once I turned back to Isla.
She nodded her head. “I… I need to go.” She said as she grabbed her stuff before getting out of the booth, I didn’t have any time to say anything before she was out of the door.
