I hadn’t expected to be getting a tattoo today when I’d only mentioned it to Drew in the van less than two hours earlier. I should have known better. Drew never did anything by halves, and as I was sold on the idea, my small twinge of fear soon gave way to tremulous excitement. I already knew that I wanted the patch. I also knew the symbolism and significance of getting the MC’s symbol inked on my skin, and not just with Hounds, but with every one of their rivals, too. This tattoo would tell the world I was with the club, with the boys, with Drew. This would tell the world that the club had accepted me indefinitely.

I knew for a fact that not many of the girls had any club representation on their skin. Having something so permanent was an honor that old ladies got after years of being with their Hound. The only woman I knew who had something even close was Deeks’ old lady, Autumn, and hers wasn’t the patch. Autumn’s tattoo was a small paw on her hip with a really pretty calligraphic D in the biggest pad.

Bouncing in Drew’s grip again, I linked my fingers together at the base of his skull and rested my forehead against his, unable to contain my smile as our eyes met and held. “Where? Where should I get the tattoo?”

I already thought a lot about where I wanted the ink to show my love and loyalty to Drew and his brotherhood, but I also wanted his opinion. It felt as though the tattoo should be something that we decided between us, even with every guy in the bar watching us and talking quietly amongst themselves in speculation.

“I guess the question is where do you see the club in your life? Behind you, watching over you, or in front, leading the way. Go from there,” he offered quietly. “It can be as big or as small as you like, Ayda. There’re no rules.”

“I have a thought,” I said quietly, releasing the grip on his neck and dropping my hands to his shoulders. “I was thinking of having it on my back. Over the scars. You’ve always had my back, and I think I’ve always known that, but the pack… that night the pack were at my back, and all of you made me stronger. Does that make sense?”

He grinned. “Back it is.”

I stood up straight and released all the breath from my lungs and smiled at him. “I’m really doing this,” I squeaked. “I’m getting a tattoo, and I couldn’t be more excited.”

Spinning, I smiled over at Stinger, who—to my relief—was cradling a mug of coffee, rather than beer.

“What do I need to do?” I asked him and the room in general.

Stinger gave Drew a nod, and within minutes chairs were being repositioned, and Stinger’s bag—followed by a huge case of equipment—was brought next to him. The bar as I’d known it just five minutes before was being transformed into a mobile tattoo studio, with the Hounds of Babylon all creating a slightly intimidating, intrigued circle around me.

Lowering a stool, Stinger took a seat on it and dragged it across the floor with his feet, stopping next to a low-backed chair before he reached down into his bag for some latex gloves. He was putting them on as his eyes rose to find mine.

“First of all, I need to know where it’s going and what I’m doing. Then you need to grit your teeth and smile through the sting.” He flashed all his teeth at me, looking as creepy as he was charming.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled my sweater up over my head and headed toward him, ignoring the whistles and teasing of the guys around us. It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen me like this before. The bra I was wearing was thick cotton and looked sturdier than a bikini top, so I knew it shouldn’t bother Drew.

Straddling the low back chair next to Stinger, I smiled at him and threw a thumb over my shoulder. “I’d like the tattoo on my back, please, and Drew has the choice of tattoo.”

I grinned over at Drew shyly before crossing my arms over the back of the chair and resting my chin on them.

He raised a brow at me, his arms folded across his chest as he held my gaze. “That’s dangerous, Hanagan.” Drew smirked. “You sure?”

I stared at him for a moment, giddy when the only thoughts that ran through my head were: Damn, I love you. And I did, even when he was trying to rattle me, I trusted him. “Never been surer.”

Dragging a chair in front of me, Drew straddled it, copying my pose as he stared into my eyes. “Skull and hounds?” He was asking my permission, even though I’d already given it. Something he would never have done when we first met. It only cemented my certainty of his feelings for me.

I swallowed, smiled, nodded in consent and listened as a quiet murmur moved around the guys in the room with us. I heard Stinger working quietly, and jumped when he rubbed something freezing cold across my back without warning.

“A patch is something I’m familiar with, darlin’. How big do you want it?”

My eyes met Drew’s again, our mirrored poses making it easy to read him when he tilted his head in a what are you thinking gesture.

“Stinger?” Drew called out, his eyes fixed firmly on me. “Do me a favor…”

“What’s that, Chief?”

“Try not to cover her scars too much. They remind me how strong she is. I’m learning to love the scars we both wear.” His eyes fell to my mouth, his own lips parting as he took in a small breath. “I don’t ever want to forget that I almost lost you. It’ll remind me that I need to make sure I keep hold of you that little bit tighter.”

Unable to find the volume to my voice, I mouthed the words I fucking love you at him and gave him a watery smile. We met glances, and he held mine as Stinger set up what he needed. From the feel of what he was doing, the skull and hounds were going to sit neatly between my shoulders.

It seemed to take forever for him to get ready to start, but when he was ready, it only felt like a breath had passed. Drew was unmoving, and as always, proved once again that he was another well of strength for me to pull from. I wasn’t afraid of pain. I wasn’t worried about that at all, and as the buzz of the tattoo gun started, I found myself smiling at him.

“Yours,” I whispered inaudibly at him.

I don’t know what I thought a tattoo would feel like, but having a tiny needle dispensing ink into your flesh eighty to a hundred and fifty times a second—I Googled this during the tattoo process—wasn’t quite as bad as I’d imagined it to be. The process was painful; there was no escaping that. If tattoos didn’t hurt everyone would have one. The pain just wasn’t as significant as I’d expected it to be. Every line Stinger made in my skin felt like mini flaying. Every line felt like a burn, hot and violent against the skin, only far easier to accept. Not something I was eager to repeat anytime soon, but not something I would be against doing again in the future either.

Drew stayed, his fingers tangled with mine, even when he would chat with Harry or Slater. Deeks had arrived not long after I’d started and was smiling over at me like a proud parent, which only made my insides tumble with elation. Tate was still in bed, but it was only a matter of time until he joined us, too.

What surprised me most about this little ritual was the acceptance of the men who slowly crowded into the bar around us. Allowing me a tattoo of their patch was ultimately Drew’s decision, and there weren’t many who would question his choice, but I hoped not many would want to. All these men that I adored so much only met my eyes with nods of pride and smiles of encouragement as I grinned up at them.

By the time Stinger was finished, my back was feeling a little tender, but I was utterly satisfied and happy. I breathed out a sigh of relief as he cleaned the area by wiping away the small beads of blood and excess ink. Stinger gave me instructions while I accepted the Coke that Deeks offered and watched Drew rise to inspect my back.

“Well?” I asked, rolling my eyes as though I could keep him in my line of sight. “I know Stinger does amazing work but is my back a good canvas?”

Drew’s arms were straight, resting on the back of the chair as he pressed all his weight on his hands to balance. When he dipped his head to look down at me, his cheesy grin was clear to see. “I think I’ve got a chubby already.”

I grinned up at him and turned my head to Stinger, who seemed to be cleaning his equipment.

“Thank you so much. Can I go and see in the mirror?”

It only took one nod, and I was on my feet, hissing as the swing of my arms made the pain ripple over the patch of skin. It felt like I had sunburn on the spot now the raw feeling was slowly passing. The moment I was behind the bar, I spun and peered back over my shoulder, smiling at my reflection with satisfaction. The skull had its sneering smirk in the center of my back, the two hounds branching to my shoulders. One twitch made them move like they were trying to escape my skin, and I was fascinated with the sight.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Fucking perfect,” Drew muttered behind me.

“Your turn, Tucker?” Jedd asked suddenly.

I turned and leaned my elbows on the bar as my eyes met Drew’s. I tried not to flinch when the skin on my back pulled a little. Now that the tattoo was done, I was feeling a little naked in just my bra and jeans. I smiled, instinctively reaching into the cooler and pulling a beer out for Deeks as he approached me.

“Thanks, sugar. You’re one of us now,” Deeks mumbled, accepting the beer as he turned to watch Drew and Jedd as they faced off. I smiled at his back, knowing the acknowledgment was a congratulations.

“You want me to ink you, Drew?” Stinger asked while fiddling with some equipment without even having to look at what he was doing. “I have time.”

“The question is, do I have the money?” Drew muttered back with a grin. “You’re not exactly cheap, Stinger.”

“Nothing worth having for life ever is.” He flashed all his teeth and Drew shook his head, laughing in response.

“I’ve already got the patch where I need it.” His eyes drifted from Stinger to me, a hidden challenge in them as he looked at me with that look only I ever got to see. That cocky assurance of his shouldn’t have made my skin ripple to life the way it did.

“I could always do that snake—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Drew snapped his head back to Stinger and smirked. “I suppose there is one thing I could get.”

“I hope we’re on the same page… Pres,” Jedd interrupted.

Drew looked at him, not giving anything away.  “Okay. Maybe two things.”

“Kerching ching,” Stinger sang out. “Take a seat, Tucker.”

Before he sat down, Drew took one last lingering look at me.

I moved before I was aware I’d thought about doing so, cutting through the small group of men who were quietly chatting amongst themselves. I stopped only when I was at the seat Drew had occupied as I’d received my tattoo. I knew damn well he didn’t need me there for strength, but I wanted to be there. This suddenly felt very significant.

In one look he’d told me that he was about to do something big, and in turn, I’d responded. Grinning at Stinger, I raised one shoulder in a half shrug. “Maybe Jedd can get that snake instead?”

“He hasn’t got the length for it,” Drew joked, pulling my attention back to him seconds before Jedd reached out to slap Drew up the back of the head. The whole group laughed, and for the first time in a long time, we were all bathing in a calm that we’d come to crave after everything that had gone on in our lives.

“What am I doing, Drew?” Stinger asked as he switched the needles over.

Clearing his throat once, Drew raised a finger and signaled for Stinger to lean in. He whispered in his ear, not letting me or anyone else hear what he had planned. The moment Stinger leaned away, everyone saw his small smile and nod of approval.

I watched with curiosity, my eyes flickering between the tattooist and Drew. When Stinger knelt down beside him and Drew leaned back enough to give him access to his chest, I wondered what the hell was going on. My view was just as cut off as everyone else’s until Stinger leaned back to wipe away the first blotting of black ink, only to reveal an A beneath the hound that occupied the space over Drew’s heart. He leaned back in to continue as I looked up into Drew’s eyes.

I opened my mouth, closing it again as I felt the sting of tears from the happiness pooling inside of me. I felt ridiculous about the emotional outburst, so I covered my mouth with my hand, knowing Drew could see the smile that consumed my eyes when I held his gaze. If it hadn’t been an impossible task, I would have thrown myself at him, but Stinger was still working on the perfectly inked D next to the already inked Y, so I paced myself and gave him an air kiss instead.

Drew offered me a wink, but other than that, he stayed completely still. Drew knew when to respect the artist, apparently, but I could see the heat in his eyes. Stinger worked quickly, and the way his wrist moved without effort was awe-inspiring. After a few more buzzes and wipes of Drew’s skin, he leaned back, resting his ass on the heels of his feet as he tilted his head from side to side.

“Looks good,” Stinger said seriously.

Drew glanced down, his naked chest rising and falling slowly as he studied my name on his skin.

“Looks complete,” Drew added quietly.

I reached out, my fingers brushing over his hand as it hung over the back of the chair. Sliding my fingers between his, I blinked back the tears that were so eager to embarrass me. I was just about to open my mouth and tell him just how much I loved him when I heard my brother enter and groan.

“Why is my sister in her braaaaa—is that a tattoo?” The change of direction in his attention was a typical Tate thing to do, but that didn’t make it any less amusing.

Drew rolled his eyes and smiled as Tate approached, but he stayed still, his eyes locked on me.

“Sit down, Tate. You’re next,” Drew said quietly.

Tate stopped beside the two of us, his eyes flickering from my back to Drew’s chest and back again. “Seriously?” he asked, eyes alight.

“Sure,” Drew answered. “Stinger, you got time to mark Tate’s balls for his initiation, right?”

“I’ve always got time to prep a pup, Drew. You know that,” Stinger said through a smirk.

Tate’s eyes went wide as he stared at the tattooist he’d never seen before.

I tried my level best not to laugh. My teeth were firmly planted into the inside of my cheek, but I knew Drew could see it. I sucked in a breath and looked up at Tate, eyes still watering. “I won’t tell you where I got mine.”

“Shut up!” Tate said, stumbling back. “That’s an image I’m never going to get rid of. It’s hard enough hearing you two—but now… ugh. I’m going to school.”

Someone, and I suspected it was Jedd, did the very same impersonation of me that Drew had done at dawn. The ‘Oh God’, ‘There’, and ‘Harder’ spread around the room to the immense humor of everyone, while I just lifted two arms and flipped the bird at them all. “Laugh it up, assholes. Just remember who cooks around here.”

Drew glanced around, his smug smirk confirming that his ego had been well and truly stroked. “Careful, boys. There’s a fine line, and y’all are about to cross it by disrespecting my—” He didn’t finish. Stinger was wiping down his right arm as Drew closed his eyes, threw his head back and started panting again. “God, Jesus, fuck me, Tucker. Right there, baby. Uh. Uh. Uh…”

Tate covered his ears and gave the most teenage eye roll I’d ever seen in my life, which only had me laughing harder. When he started to head to the door, I wished him a good day, but the sentiment was drowned out by the chorus of climaxes that had joined in with Drew’s. I could only imagine what a stranger would think if they approached The Hut right then.

Throwing my arms up, I waved them down to quiet the crowd, a smirk pulling at the corners of my lips as I looked around. “Not that Drew’s ego needs much more stroking, y’all, but at least you know he satisfies me. I don’t hear much worship when you’re screwing your girls.” I looked at Drew and winked at him this time. “Seems like you need a few pointers from my man.”

Drew threw his hands up in the air and closed his eyes, his satisfied smile saying it all. “Fuck her like you’re Tucker, boys.”

I covered my face and rocked back in my chair, laughing as the chorus of bullshits came from the guys. The laughter was infectious, and the atmosphere was jubilant. I could imagine this was how it would have been years ago—before Pete had left them and Drew went to jail. When he was at the epicenter of the club like this, he shone. He may have been thrown into his role too young, but he owned his place now. He was where he was always meant to be, and he’d carved out a place for me, too. I fit with them. I tried to give as good as I got, and even the occasional glare from one of the girls didn’t bother me anymore. I was where I wanted to be, where I needed to be, and that was something they had to deal with.

“Do you see what you’ve started?” I laughed out, aiming both hands in Drew’s direction.

“Something tells me you love it as much as I do, darlin’.” He dropped his hands down to the back of the chair and tensed his biceps as Stinger dragged his stool beside him.

“You ready?” Stinger asked, his tone serious but his smile still lingering from the contagious laughter.

“Born ready,” Drew answered, staring straight at me. “Pain me up.”

“Wait,” I said, leaping from my chair and bending to kiss Drew hard, long and so deep my stomach twisted in on itself with the promise of that heated, needy fucking we’d gotten so good at these days. “Okay, now you’re ready.”

I dropped back into my chair and smiled up at him with every ounce of hunger I felt. Still curious about what his next tattoo would be as the other men became rowdy and very loud around us.