Page 11 of Ink & Reina

We were silent for a minute. Neither of us said a word. With Grim, it was normally always this easy.

Grim’s gravelly voice surprisingly broke the silence first. “Life without women that matter is a lot fucking simpler, kid.”

“No shit,” I muttered. I was beginning to learn that. Some days, I craved the days before I met Reina—the days I could fuck whoever I wanted and not feel guilty because I was in love with another woman.

Guilt was a shitty fucking emotion, and because she was with Jordan, I didn’t understandwhyI felt guilty.

“You know what you need right now, Ink?” Grim asked me. I looked over at him, arching an eyebrow in a silent prompt for him to go on. “You fucking need pussy, liquor, and new ink.”

Pussy, liquor, and new ink didn’t sound bad at all, to be honest. And it would take my mind off of Reina for the night. To hell with the damn guilt. I needed to lose myself insomethingfor a few hours.

“Trinity is a good woman for no-strings sex,” Grim told me. Trinity was one of the girls that liked to hang around the clubhouse, hoping to turn one of the guys into her old man. It wasn’t going to happen though. Wouldn’t be long before she moved on like every woman before her had. “You can probably find her in the kitchen. She gives you a hard time for not being one of the members, let her know I sent you.”

With that, he stood from the table and walked back inside. I finished my cigarette and went to go do exactly what he’d suggested in that exact order. Liquor always settled better after I’d gotten off anyway.

Chapter Six

Ink

Ibounced on the balls of my feet, grinning at the brand-new prospect on the other side of the ring. He’d been named Knockout by the club because apparently, he was a damn good fighter. He was ex-military, but Blink was worried about his PTSD fucking everyone up during a run.

The guy woke up from a lot of fucking nightmares, and if the club had to camp out somewhere to do lookout, that could be catastrophic. Blink and the other founding members, who had moved on with their lives to settle in retirement, were ex-military, too. So, I knew Blink was trying to give the guy a chance, but I overheard him, Sabotage, and Grim sometimes talking about him, and talks weren’t all that great.

I might have just been a prospect at that point, but I was still included in the club information because before I began prospecting, I was already family.

I honestly could have skipped prospecting, but I insisted. I wanted to earn my way in—prove my loyalty. I wanted to earn the patch on my back just like every other member had. Eventhough Sabotage was Blink’s adopted son, he’d had to earn the patch on his back just like everyone else.

I didn’t understand why Blink was being so different with me. Either way, I was determined to do the right thing and follow normal club protocol. I had to earn my way into the fold. Had to earn my seat at that table.

“You two know the fucking rules,” Hatchet said. I nodded once at him. He smacked his hand on the mat and moved back, a silent order to start the fight.

“Think you can take me, kid?” Knockout asked me, a cocky grin on his face.

I just smirked. He may have been in the military—may have skills with hand-to-hand combat—but I was a kid who fought dirty. I’d learned to fight because I had tosurvive. To me, survival beat training any fucking day.

He swung out at me, but I blocked, sending two uppercuts to his abdomen before I danced back, adrenaline pumping through my veins. He gritted his teeth, glaring at me.

He knew this wasn’t a game anymore. I had skill—skill he hadn’t anticipated from someone as young as me. Joke was on him. I’d been defending myself since I was a little boy.

“Heard you lost your girl to your brother,” he taunted. My smirk dropped from my face, anger replacing my amusement. “Shitty way to lose, kid.”

Knockout had better watch his goddamn mouth before he no longer had a tongue to fucking talk with.

“You’ve been here all of two fucking seconds,” I reminded him. “You don’t fucking know shit. Unless you want me to beat your ass so fucking bad you lose your prospect cut and have to go crying back home to your fucking mommy, I suggest you stop running your goddamn mouth.”

He smirked. He knew he was getting under my skin.

I let him. He’d regret it soon enough.

Because in this ring, I was the fucking king. And I didn’t get here without learning a thing or two. If Knockout wanted to run his fucking mouth, I’d show him exactly what I’d learned.

“Didn’t even get a chance to get your dick wet, did you?” he asked. “Bet your brother is tearing her pussy up.”

I lost it.

I tackled him to the ground and pummeled my fists into his face. His blood coated my hands, splattering across my chest, arms, and abdomen. Even when he was out cold beneath me, I didn’t fucking stop.

Two sets of hands grabbed me, yanking me back. “Chill!” Grim roared in my face, shoving me back a step when I moved forward again. I glared at him, shoving him back. He shrugged off his cut, tossing it to the side. “You want to square off, brother? We’ll square off,” he warned me. I glared at him, but I didn’t rise to the challenge. I wouldn’t turn on a brother—not when he wasn’t the one I was pissed with. “That’s what I thought. Shove it down now, Ink,” he growled.

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