Mick
My mind has been on Morgan Steele all day as it always is. She leaves for college in less than a week, and I’m letting her go against my better judgment. There’s nothing I can do about it because she’s not technically mine. It’s four in the afternoon when her brother and the president of the Steele Riders, Boomer comes in. “Hey, brother. Are you ready to get this shit popping? The color’s faded like a motherfucker.”
“Of course. I’ve got it all set up over here.” I take him in the back where my tattoo room is and set up the bed for him to get situated. The tats on his back, but it’s not too big of a piece that I’ll finish in an hour. He needs a touch-up on an old tattoo, and I’m the only one he trusts.
I’ve owned Dirty Mick’s Tattoos for the past two years, and it’s been one hell of a journey. Since the day I met my princess, I saved up almost enough to pay off the shop while building up our future house. Of course, she’s none the wiser about my feelings for her. And it has to stay that way for a little longer.
I’m in the middle of retouching one of Boomer’s old tattoos when he mutters out, “Morgan’s going on a date tonight.” I lift the needle off his back because I’m not mentally prepared for this. A burning ache fills my chest instantly. I can feel my hand shake as the rage builds in me. A vision of some little bastard running his hands down my fiery Morgan stirs in my brain. I do my best to shake it off because I need answers. Patience is the key.
I don’t want to let on that I’m bothered by her with someone else. It should be me. It should have always been me, but I can’t just yet. I wipe off the ink, then get back to the next little section. Thank fuck I’m almost done. I don’t think I can focus that long right now. It’s as if he purposefully knew I would lose my cool, so he waited until the end. As innocuous and as calm as possible, I ask, “Why?”
“Because she’s eighteen and as much as I want to say fuck no, she’s not a little girl anymore.” Damn it, wasn’t he just saying she couldn’t date? I guess that was about six months ago when she was still in high school.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” I reply offhandedly. I might go to prison tonight. I’ll be doing tats in jail for the next twenty-five. I wonder if it would be considered a crime of passion?
“I don’t either. I have to let her grow up before she does something dumb in college trying to act old and worldly. All it takes is one frat boy to ruin her life.” He thrusts his free hand in his hair, trying to hold his temper together.
“I’m done,” I tell him, turning around and placing my equipment to the side of me. It gives me a second to control my temper as I ask the question that may set me off. “Who’s she going on a date with?” If it’s one of the Riders, shit’s going to get ugly motherfucking fast.
He adjusts himself into a sitting position, then gruffly says, “He’s a classmate of hers, Daniel Pennington. He comes from a good family who owns the ranch in Cornerstone.” Yep, I heard of them. They are everything Boomer, and Jackson would want for their little sister. Nothing about them rings hollow. They aren’t bikers like us. We’re not a violent group, but even though Boomer and Jackson ride, they don’t want their baby sister hanging off the back of a motorcycle.
“Where’s the piss ant taking her?” I ask with my back to him as I get the wrapping and cream for his tat.
“To the movies, then a bonfire. It’s where all the kids their age are going tonight,” he grumbles out, thoroughly annoyed.
“Is someone going to go with them?” I ask. As one of the Steele Riders, it’s my job to watch over Morgan, so he doesn’t think anything of my question.
He shakes his head as I protect the fresh ink. “Nope, I promised I’d loosen the yoke and give her some space for a night.”
I shut my mouth tightly, then relax and stand up as if nothing’s wrong. “Okay. Well, I wonder what they’re going to see?”
“I don’t know.” I guess I’m done early today. Boomer cuts out after I’m done putting the wrappings on his new tattoo.
As soon as he’s gone, I leave Demi and Asher to work on the last clients of the night. They’ll close up for me. I need to go after her. She’s mine. I can’t let someone else steal her away even though I can’t have her yet.
I don’t care what if it costs me my place in Steele Riders as Boomer’s lieutenant. The main reason I haven’t claimed her ass is that she needs to grow. At barely eighteen, I want her to be the woman she wants to be. Second, I still owe another six months of payments before the shop is legally mine and only mine. I’ve worked hard as fuck for the past six years to get a chance at my shop and Boomer gave it to me two years ago under a contract to complete property ownership. He could ruin it if I take his sister. I doubt that he would, but there’s a chance. Still, she deserves for me to be able to give her everything. If I’m mired in debt, she can’t be treated like the princess she is.
None of that matters if she finds someone else in the meantime. I’ve got to do what I have to—short of fucking my kid into her as I dream of—to keep her away from other guys. I jump on my Harley ride it over to the theater. I park it toward the back of the parking lot. They get out of his pickup, and I’m about twenty feet from them. I can’t let on that I’m right behind them, but I want to lay him flat as he takes her hand. She reluctantly allows it for a minute before she manages to slip her hand out like a good fucking girl.
She’s wearing a pair of khaki beige shorts that are a little too short for me and a print tee with sparkly words on the front that I can’t make out. Her body has filled out even more than she did before. Her breasts and hips are getting ready for my baby. She’s too perfect. Her long brown hair hangs in a simple ponytail. I can’t let someone else have her. I’ve stayed away from women before I even met her.
They go in, and I follow behind but out of sight. I hear him ask for two tickets to see the latest romance of the summer, “Open Hearts.” Nope, I’m not okay with her seeing a romantic movie with him. I’m ready to interrupt, but Morgan excuses herself and goes to the bathroom. It’s the perfect time for me to lay it on thick with the little pencil dick.
“Danny boy,” I call out, stepping up to him I tilt my chin with intent. I’m about half a foot taller than him and got him by about thirty pounds. None of that matters because if he doesn’t keep his hands to himself, I’m going to find a sweet spot to bury his body.
“Who are you?” he asks.
I have my patch on because I planned to take her out of here, but I’ve got a better idea. Hiding my feelings but keeping dicks away from her is better than just claiming her with a promise for more later. “Your newest problem,” I inform him.
He gets ticked and tries to come off hard. He’s a pussy. “What? Ah, don’t tell me her brother sent you to follow us.”
I scoff, “No, he didn’t. I came on my own, and I’m warning you now, that if you even touch Morgan while passing her the popcorn bucket, I’ll chop off your nuts.” He swallows hard then glances toward the bathroom door and back at me.
“Man, I’ll do what the fuck I please. I’m not going to let some old biker low-life tell me what to do.”
I inch closer, standing over him with a deadly glare. “Boy, you’re a fool. I’ll be watching, and if you tell Morgan I’m here, I’ll tell her brothers what you just said. I’m letting you slide on that, but they won’t.” I step outside before Morgan gets out of the bathroom.
As soon as they’re out of sight, I buy my ticket for the same movie.
“Hey, what brings you here?” Sammie asks. She’s the manager of the theater now and happens to be Doc’s little sister. He’s one of the members and a doctor who also runs his own practice here in town. He served with Boomer in the Special Forces.
I nod toward the candy counter. She follows my gaze and understands instantly. “Ah. Well, I’ll let you enjoy. Just don’t cause a scene. Okay?” She hugs me and shakes her head.
“Sure thing.” I wink at her then duck out of sight. While they are at the candy counter, I sneak inside, so she doesn’t see me.
The theater fills up pretty quick, but I hide in the very back, taking off my vest, so she doesn’t see it by chance. I watch them the entire time. My eyes train on the back of their heads. Several times I see him turn and look my way. When his gaze finds mine, my expression is as cold as it gets. They don’t touch during the movie, and neither of them attempts to get close.
I wait for them to leave the theater first before I exit. Keeping my distance, I spy them getting into his truck. I don’t follow close behind because I know where they’re going. The bonfire isn’t too far from the clubhouse. I drive that way, but instead, I see them turn in the opposite direction, straight toward her apartment. “What the fuck? She better not let him inside,” I snarl to myself. The entire way there I’m growling and thinking of ways to dispose of this fucker. I can’t see if he’s holding her hand unless I get closer to his vehicle. My imagination runs fucking wild, and that’s not safe for any of us.
He pulls up to the curb outside her apartment building. They share a brief conversation; then she gets out. There are no goodbye kisses. Thank fuck for that. He drops her off, barely waiting for her to get inside the apartment entrance before he drives away. Asshole. As much as I didn’t want him to touch her, I didn’t appreciate him being a dick to her.
I wait until I’m sure she’s in bed, then ride around for an hour, trying to clear my head. I check in on her again to make sure he didn’t return. He didn’t.
I ride to our house just a mile from the tattoo shop and remind myself that she’s got some living and growing up to do. While she does that, I have to have all my damn ducks in order.