“What are we even supposed to do out here?” Aaron groaned as he stretched out on the bed in his small motel room. Max gave him a steely glance. He was tired of babysitting his two other club members. Now that he was back in Colridge all he wanted to do was be with Brittany, instead he was stuck keeping an eye on Aaron and Henry, making sure they didn’t get into any trouble.
“This place blows,” Henry mouthed the words around the unlit cigar which was clenched between his teeth.
“Well,” Max searched his mind for something, anything for them to do. They weren’t the kind of guys who could spend an afternoon at the movies. His thoughts drifted, as they so often did, to Brittany. He wasn’t about to tell them he had a girlfriend, but it wouldn’t hurt to send a bit of work her way.
“I got some new ink while I was here.” He shrugged off the thin T-shirt he was wearing to reveal Brittany’s handiwork. Both Henry and Aaron leaned forward, their eyes wide with interest.
“Hey, man, that’s pretty decent work,” Henry removed his cigar from his mouth to bestow the compliment, brandishing it around in one hand.
“Yeah,” Aaron agreed, his eyes narrowed with scrutiny. “You got that done in town?”
“Sure did,” Max pulled his T-shirt back on. “There’s a parlor in town with an artist named Brittany who does real nice work.”
“Is this Brittany a nice piece of work too?” Henry chuckled to himself as he finally lit his cigar, a plume of dark smoke circling around him.
“She’s…um…” Max nervously shoved his hands into his pockets. How could he deter the guys from Brittany without revealing they were dating? It was too risky to let them know about his relationship with her, as it put her in danger. He was about to let Brittany become collateral damage for anything that went down between the Kings and the Red Riders in Colridge while he was there.
“She likes girls,” he said with a shrug.
“Doesn’t put me off,” Henry grinned.
“She’s involved with a woman at the parlor. I think her name is Nancy.”
“Ah,” Henry’s interest seemed to wane. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket to show a grisly tattoo of a pack of wolves ripping apart a man. “I’m thinking of adding to this,” he told the other two men.
“What would you add?” Will frowned. “An apology? That’s an awful tat, man.”
“Speak for yourself,” Henry gave a haughty gruff. “You’re the one who has your Mama’s name on your chest.”
“Hey,” Aaron looked wounded by his friend’s words. “She died. It’s a tribute.”
“Still makes you a pussy,” Henry shrugged. “The only women’s names you should have inked on to you are those who fucked your brains out. Plain and simple. No other women are worth remembering.”
Max turned away from them so that they wouldn’t see him smiling to himself. By their logic, he should have Brittany’s name boldly tattooed on himself. He was still grinning to himself when the two men got up and headed for the door to their motel room.
“Where are you going?” Max sharply turned to face them.
“I’m in the mood for some new ink now,” Aaron admitted as he pulled on his jacket.
“Me too,” Henry agreed solemnly. “Plus is beats sitting around here all day. You coming?”
Max hesitated. If he went with them they’d surely see how he was with Brittany and realize that they were a couple. No, as much as it pained him he needed to hang back at the motel, protect the secrecy of his relationship a little longer.
“I’ll stay here in case Alex calls.”
Both Will and Henry looked confused.
“You know how he hates cell phones,” Max explained with a roll of his eyes.
“Oh, yeah, man,” Henry gave him a consolation pat on the shoulder. “The old dog really can’t learn new tricks, can he?”
“Let us know if he hits you up,” Aaron was stepping out into the gloom of the late morning. Heavy clouds hung in the sky preventing the sun from shining.
“Will do,” Max promised as he watched his friends leave, envying them for being able to go and see Brittany, his Brittany.