Page 1 of Bash

Chapter One

Bash

I checked the clock on my phone for the fifth time before slamming it down on my station table. Where the hell was she?

“You good, man?” Smoke asked, sliding into my tattoo booth on his rolling chair.

“Yeah.” No. I wasn’t fucking good. Allyson should have been at the shop an hour ago. She was never late and I’d spent the last sixty minutes picturing the worst scenarios.

“Okay, well, you maybe want to tell that to your face? You look ballistic,” Smoke said.

Running my fingers through my short hair, I sighed. “Allyson isn’t here yet.”

“Was she supposed to help you with something? I have time between clients,” he offered. His offer was kind, but only added to my annoyance.

“No. She’s just never late,” I bit out.

Smoke laughed, actually fucking laughed. “Are you worried?”

Scowling, I flipped him off.

“You are! Big Bad Bashie is worried,” he mocked.

“Shut up, asswipe.” The urge to punch him in the face was overwhelming.

“You gotta put a dollar in the swear bucket!” Eloise, my pseudo-niece, said as she ran over to me. Her pink tutu floated around her and I smiled despite my worry. She was my best friend Blade’s Little girl and a big ball of sparkle and glitter. She kept us entertained every day she was at the shop with us.

I pulled out my wallet and deposited a ten into the pink beach bucket. We had started with a swear jar, but we all cursed so much that we’d had to upgrade to something bigger within just a few days.

“Oh, ten monies!” she exclaimed, peeking into the bucket.

“It’s a credit for the rest of the day. I’m sure I’ll need it,” I said dryly.

“Why are you grumpy?” she asked, then wrinkled her nose, and corrected, “Well, more grumpy than normal.”

“Because Allyson is late.”

“She’s not late. She’s sick. She called Uncle Leland and told him she couldn’t work today.”

“What?” I asked, sitting up in my chair. “What do you mean she’s sick?” How was she sick? What was wrong? Fuck! I should have asked someone sooner.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. I texted her, but she hasn’t read it yet.” Her smile fell a little. “I’m worried about her, actually.”

I was sure she was worried. Allyson and Eloise had met in a local shelter earlier in the year. Eloise had been running from an abusive ex and Allyson had aged out of foster care two years before. The women had quickly become friends and were inseparable. Both had recently started working at Daddies Ink. Eloise now lived with Blade, but Allyson still lived at the shelter, much to my frustration. Many of us had offered her a room, but she was a stubborn little cuss—the sweetest little cuss. She had a heart as big as Texas. The world honestly didn’t deserve her.

Looking at the time on my phone again, I calculated I had about an hour and a half before my next client came in. “Go tell your Daddy you’re coming with me, kiddo. We’ll go get her.”

“Okay,” she agreed, running off to his station.

Standing, I gathered my keys, wallet, and phone.

“Uh, where exactly are you going?” Smoke asked.

“To get Allyson.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s fucking sick and alone.” And because I hated when she wasn’t around. It made my skin itch and my head too jumbled. He didn’t need to know that, though. For a long time I hadn’t wanted her to know either. I’d been worried I was too rough for her, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized maybe I was exactly what she needed. Maybe she needed a hardass to help her see she was worthy of all of our love.

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