Page 3 of Out for Blood

We’d been close, but she’d stuck with that asshat Paul in school. The asshat who never deserved her.

Hell, I didn’t deserve her. I knew what I would become, and that wasn’t exactly a world I’d want someone as pure as Sheridan in.

I laughed at myself.

Pure.

She was sweet all right, but I knew she had a dirty side. She’d hinted at it one night when we’d gotten stuck into the bar at the old clubhouse when one of my father’s biggest parties was happening. She’d told me a lot that night, but there was no way I could have dishonoured her by devouring her like I’d been dreaming of doing. She would have regretted it, and I wanted her to remember everything about me.

I shook my head to clear the memories of her and headed into the tattoo shop. My tattoo guy, Rory, lit up when he saw me at the desk.

“Come in, take a seat,” he called out. “I’m almost done with this guy.”

“Take your time,” I called out to him, taking a seat at the side of the small shop. Rory did my first couple of tatts when I was a teen living here, so when I learned he had his own shop now, I knew I was booking in with him. I looked around the walls at his artwork, marvelling at how much better he’d gotten since the day I came in for my first one.

“Sorry, Ror,” I heard a female say as she pushed the door open. I turned around to greet her, only for her to smile broadly in surprise.

“Cooper?”

Recognition sparked and I felt myself transported back. That had been happening a lot since I got back. “Orla?”

“Damn, so it’s true, you really are back.”

I nodded. “Yeah, we’re out in the woods, built our own clubhouse and all.”

“It’s good to see you again,” she said. “You know our girl is still in town, too.”

The twinkle in her eye told me she was talking about Sheridan. My heart hammered, and I wondered if she could hear it. Orla moved off to put her things behind the desk. I sat back down, sighing. This was not the place to have this conversation. I know Rory was listening in.

“She was never my girl.”

Orla chuckled. “Yeah…right, only because you were too pussy to fight Paul for her.”

I smirked over at her. “You know, Or, you’re the only person brave enough to say that to me.”

“You don’t scare me, Coop. I’ve seen your skeletons.”

Orla never backed down. What you saw was what you got with her, and that was why we’d been such good friends back then.

“Orla,” Rory called out. “Mac needs to book in.”

Finally, her challenging gaze left mine, her lips lifted up in a smirk as I passed the other guy in the shop and headed down to Rory’s chair.

“Sorry about her,” he said, quietly. “She doesn’t know when to shut up. I can’t get rid of her though, she’s the only other artist in Kilkenny that can tattoo worth a damn.”

“She’s an artist too?”

Rory nodded. “Yeah, man. She helped save my shop when they were going to charge me an arm and a leg to keep it open. Business boomed. Probably helped that she would flounce around in a mini skirt and barely there top.”

“She still does,” I said, watching as he pulled up the design I’d emailed through.

“Not nearly as bad as it was,” Rory laughed. “Believe me. She’s only gotten wiser with age.”

“That doesn’t sound like Orla.”

He chuckled and handed me the design he’d pulled up.

“Yep,” I told him. “Here.”

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