Torque

 

Torque caught the woman easily, her firm body falling into his hands as though she was doing it on purpose. He lifted her like a ragdoll and laid the tattoo artist in the freshly cleaned chair and leaned over her. “Does she do this often?”

 

Spencer scrambled to his feet to dampen a paper towel and press it to her forehead. “No, at least not that I’ve seen. But she’s had quite a shock. We both have. I’m surprised I’m still conscious, to be honest. Those guys have been giving us a run for our money for a long time.”

 

Torque tightened his lips and glanced toward the front door. It was still safely locked, and there was no sign through the front glass of the miscreants returning. He wouldn’t have minded if they did. He could still feel the crunch of Rat’s face under his fist, and it wouldn’t have been so bad to finish the job. “I’m not surprised. They ride with a gang called the Dirty Bastards.” He had easily recognized the badging on their vests, and he hadn’t been surprised.

 

The slim man barked a laugh. “That suits them well.”

 

“Why do you still let them come here?” Torque had heard the way the Bastards had been talking to Blue while he had been in the next booth getting a consultation from Spencer. He would have preferred to talk to Blue, since her reputation as an artist was well-known throughout all of southern California, but he hadn’t been able to get an appointment. If he had known how beautiful she was, he might have been trying even harder. He glanced at the figure on the chair, trying not to stare.

 

“What else can I do?” Spencer threw his skinny arms in the air. “They pay, and that’s what this business—any business—is all about. It never used to be a problem. In fact, it was guys like Rat that kept this place going when I first started. I didn’t make my money on professionals and people wanting to imitate the guys on TV. But things have just been getting steadily worse over the last year or so. They aren’t satisfied with the work, no matter how good it is, or they want to get something for free, or they want to drink and fight. I can’t win.”

 

Nodding, Torque pulled in a deep breath and let it go slowly. “I knew I recognized them. I ride with Satan Seed, and the Dirty Bastards are our rivals. I’ll be sure to mention this to my boss.” Acer wouldn’t be pleased to know that Torque had gotten into it with some of the DBs without any backup, but he would forgive him instantly once he knew that Torque had won. The tension between the two clubs had been building for a long time. This incident didn’t really have anything to do that, but Torque wouldn’t have been surprised if Rat and his men had felt the need for a fight just to ease some of that tension.

 

“Oh, no.” The shop owner waved open hands in front of him in negation. “I don’t need a gang war taking place here. My shop feeds my family, and I’ve kept it running for over ten years. I don’t want it all busted up.”

 

Looking down at the broken glass that hadn’t yet been swept up and the beer on the floor, Torque raised a thick eyebrow. “Yeah, because things are so safe right now.” He studied the inert form on the tattoo chair. Her hair was dyed a shade of powder blue that flattered the porcelain tones of her skin. She had kept the theme that went with her name, and the tats he could see had all been done in different hues of blue. There were whirling galaxies on her shoulders, visible outside the straps of her black tank top, and roses climbing up her arms.

 

Her shirt had ridden up a little as he had laid her down, revealing the tips of tattoos that touched her hips as well as a diamond crystal in her navel that matched the one in her nose. She looked the part of a tattoo artist, but in a delicate way that made him wonder. How had she managed to live in this kind of world? Tattoo shops were no place for lightweights.

 

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what else to do.” Spencer’s words brought him back to the present moment. “If we move the shop to the other side of town, the rent will be twice as high.”

 

Blue roused on the chair, her head rolling on her shoulders and her eyelids fluttering. The paper towel Spencer had pressed to her forehead slipped to the floor. “What happened?”

 

Spencer was at her side in a moment. “You passed out, honey. Everything’s all right.”

 

“Oh, crap.” She blinked her eyes hard, trying to wake herself up. “I’ve got to finish getting this all cleaned. I have more appointments tomorrow.” Blue tried to sit up but she instantly fell back against the upholstery, still too weak to hold herself up.

 

“No, you’ve got to go home.” Spencer’s thick eyebrows bunched together. “Everything’s done for tonight.

 

“But …”

 

“No, really. Just stop.” He looked up at Torque. “I don’t suppose you could take her back to her place, could you? I do need to get this mess cleaned up, and I don’t want to risk running into those bikers. I know Blue can’t drive right now.”

 

Torque had been watching the scene with interest. He hadn’t expected such a gentle response from Spencer when Blue awoke, making him question their relationship. Were they lovers? Had he swooped in and saved another guy’s woman? But if that was the case, then would Spencer really trust a man like him to take her home? Of course, Spencer had already made it quite obvious that he couldn’t protect Blue from the likes of the Dirty Bastards. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m on my bike …”

 

“Take her car.” Spencer gestured toward a set of keys on the corner of the counter. “She’s just over on Willow Lane, so it isn’t far.” He looked down into Blue’s face. “Is that okay with you, if Torque takes you home?”

 

The artist turned crystalline eyes to Torque, shaded heavily by her eyelids. She was still fighting for consciousness. “Okay,” she whispered.

 

With little choice but to do as he was asked, Torque leaned forward and scooped Blue into his arms. She barely weighed a thing, and the way she turned toward his chest sent a shot of fire through his system. She was so vulnerable, and he could do anything he wanted to with her, but he had been trusted to get her home safely. He nodded to Spencer, who got the door for him and ran out into the parking lot to help him get Blue into the passenger seat of a little blue coupe. She fumbled with the seatbelt, and he reached in and buckled it just to get it over with.

 

Spencer handed over the keys. “402 Willow Street. It’s a blue house on the right.”

 

Torque couldn’t help but smile at that. “Of course it is.”

 

“Thanks again for everything. I’ll be giving you a big discount when you come back in for your tat.” He disappeared into the shop, locking the door behind him and shutting all the curtains.

 

Torque glanced at the woman next to him as he left the parking lot and turned onto the main road. What had he gotten himself into?