Church left with Ali that night, but not before giving me a kiss and telling me he'd see me the next day.
I fully understood where he was coming from and how he wanted to spend time with his daughter after that confession. That wasn't what bothered me. What bothered me was that he nor Ali had been back to see me in three days.
My cousins had left the next morning, thank God. Noah even mumbled something about getting back to work things out. So, I think Church's message registered with him, but I still didn't know why Gina had come.
The guys in the club had still been in and out to help me, although it was only the ones who were cops and they were quiet every time I asked about Church and Ali. I hated that I had no idea what was going on with them.
My only solace was when the women of the club would come to hang out with me.
This morning it was Sandy, and the past two afternoons it had been Ivy, until she leathered up and took off with the guys.
I liked her a lot, but she wasn't Ali. There was something about Ali that I just loved and I really missed her.
She didn't want to see us. I knew she didn't. Not after finding shit out the way she did. I was fucking idiot and if I didn't loose my shit and talk about the cheating and the speeders, she'd be mine, she'd be grounded and she'd be leathering up right now, getting ready to hop on my bike with the other Ole Ladies...
"You're quiet today." My client whispered.
"Sorry. Got a lotta shit goin on." I snorted as I shaded in her Rosy the Riveter tattoo.
The woman was in her late 60's but she was hardcore with tatts everywhere. She was a cool old broad too, came in every so often to add shit here and there.
"You know, tattooin' ain't just therapy for the masochists, it's also for the artist." She grinned at me.
"I ain't tellin' my whole life story." I snorted, "Ain't nobody got time for that shit."
"Hey-hey!" Smokey came in and made his presence known. Hell, the man practically cheered for himself.
"What's up, man?" I asked as he came into my booth and examined my work.
"That shading kills man." He sucked some air threw his teeth.
"He's good at what he does," My client said, "It don't hurt that much either."
"Nah, it's 'cause you been doin' this since you was a teenager." He sat down in a chair nearby and watched for a minute.
"Shit from the other night still got you, brother?" Smokey broke the silence.
"You and I have been friends since we were in diapers and you're gonna ask me that?" I paused my gun to straighten up and glare at my friend, "Shit's water under the bridge."
"Then what's this shit with you keepin' away from her?" He asked, "You made the claim, and she made one in return from what Ali-Cat says, but instead of grounding her ass, like you intended, you got us with her round the damn clock. She can't take the speeder out, if that's what you're worried about."
Any normal client woulda thought we were talking about a kid, but when I looked at the old broad she gave me one of them, "Oh, really?" looks.
"Why does it matter to you?" I scoffed.
"Ivy wanted ." He shrugged.
"On what bike?" I snorted, continuing my work, "She ain't gettin on the speeder."
"Pillion for the President." My client grinned at me.
"This President won't have a pillion." I shook my head, dabbing the area clean and continueing.
"Why not?" Smokey asked, "She's smokin in those leathers and I could picture her wearing your patch."
"It ain't gonna happen." I pointed the end of my gun at him, "She ain't like us. End of story."
"You're talking about the little one next door? The one who's grandparents founded your club?" My client asked.
"You knew them?" I was almost done, just the eyes.
"Honey, there's a reason I been comin' here all these years." The woman glared at me, "Claire and I worked together when she met Bruiser."
"No shit?!" I stared at the woman with wide eyes.
"Yeah shit!" She laughed, "We we're both dancers, and let me tell you, if she is anything like her grandmother she-."
"Oh shit!" Smokey looked up and went pale, "Incoming."
"What the fuck does that mean?!" I glared at my friend.
"What the hell, Church!" Chloe stormed into my shop, looking so fucking cute in her blue jeans and sweatshirt. It was getting cooler the closer we got to Thanksgiving and she must not be used to it.
"What'd I do?" I gaped at her.
"I'll see you tomorrow." She mocked me, "It's been three fucking days!"
"I'm-" She threw something at me and it stopped my apology.
"No, you are not sorry!" She pointed a little didget at me and I heard Smokey and the old lady laughing, "Don't even say it!"
"So you throw my fucking tip jar at me?" I glared at her, but it was hard because she was so cute, like one of those fucking Disney princesses that Ali used to watch.
"You deserve something harder, especially after the whole before dinner thing!" As she shouted, I saw her looking around for something else to toss at me.
"Wait! What before dinner thing?" Smokey asked, sitting on the edge of his seat throwing his hands around like a fucking moron, "Tell me he grounded your ass and we just didn't know!"
"No," Chloe legitimately sneered at me as she hissed, "But he took my keys and my fucking virginity!"
Both my client's and Smokey's jaws dropped, but Smokey's was more of a laugh and the ole Lady's was a nasty glare.
"It ain't like that!" I snapped, "I couldn't ground her, so I made sure I could later that night, but her cousins and their fucking stupidity had me fuckin rippin!"
"So, instead of coming over, or sending Ali over per usual, you send the fucking cops and their wives to look after me?!" Chloe's eyes were wider than I'd ever seen them.
"Ivy's my sister, Chloe." Smokey grinned at her, "And once she finds out you were throwing tips at Church for his hand jobs, she'll like you even more."
"Shut up, Smokey!" Both Chloe and I shouted at him.
"I swear, babygirl, if you ain't your grandma reincarnated..." My client sucked some air through her teeth.
"You knew my Grams?" Chloe stopped yelling at me to smile at the woman.
"Oh yes, I knew her. And she gave Bruiser a good row a time or two. She even outed his real name once."
"If you ask me, it would have been a better name than Bruiser, more fitting too." Chloe snorted.
"Nah, if you knew him, you'd know he was definitely a Bruiser and not a Clifford." The ole lady laughed.
"Are we done?" I motioned to the lady's arm, "Can I finish?"
"No you can not!" Chloe turned on me again, "Not until you explain why you've been so fricken cold with me!"
"I'll explain later," I cleared my throat, "When you're ridin' pillion."
"If you go get your ass ready." I sighed, "You got ten minutes."