Page 10 of Covert
I wince. Would she see me differently if she knew what MCs are really like outside of a fictional romance? It's not glamorous. It's not legal. Most of it's not even moral.
"Nikki!" Maddox shouts, coming around the half-wall. She startles and fumbles her Kindle a little. I want to punch his teeth in. He can't fucking yell at her like that. It'll earn me my first teardrop tattoo tonight if this fucker thinks he can get away yelling at her like that.
But Scar doesn't miss a beat, still looking down at his phone. "Yep. Three unfortunate souls met an early end because of me."
Maddox leans into Nikki's space, and I step forward. I'd really like to get this tattoo without bloodshed, but no one is going to speak to her threateningly like that. Not in my presence.
"You don't fucking ask people about that," he growls at her, and I take another step forward. But instead of cowering or apologizing, shesimply ignores the large man. Instead, she grabs Scar's attention and places four fingers against her own cheek, fingertips where the teardrop tattoos would rest on her, and taps her cheek lightly with a wink.
Scar throws his head back on a full belly laugh.
"God, I like her."
Maddox motions for me to follow him back to his station, his shoulders set with tension. I follow, eager to place some distance between him and Nikki.
Nikki simply hums to herself, noncommittally, tilting her head back and forth, like maybe she's lying, maybe she's not.
Once Scar stops laughing, he takes in her face again. "I can't tell whether you're serious or not."
She kicks her leg out coyly, one ballet flat dangling off of her toe.
"I guess we'll never know," she teases back, and I warm at the way she so effortlessly blends with my family.
I sit in Maddox's chair and place my forearm up on the armrest. He maneuvers into place. My eyes track back to the front of the shop, watching the back of Nikki's head as she and Scar chat and laugh together. I want to ask them to turn down the old school rock so I can eavesdrop, but Maddox simply shows me the logo stencil and shaves my forearm to apply it.
"She's not for you," Maddox says, still lining up the stencil the way he wants it. He's done a dozen of these, so this is boring and routine for him.
"Excuse me?" I ask, reluctantly being pulled out of my obsessive staring.
"Nikki. She's not the type of girl for you," he says again, this time glaring at me to my face.
I bristle at the insinuation - that somehow, I'm not good enough for her. Or that she's too good for me. Which, of course, is fucking true. I have nothing to offer her. As a patched member, I'll be given a small allowance, and I have my cabin, but that's it. I can't even provide her with stability. I'll be on the road whenever the club calls me. But I can give her everything else - time, attention, affection, pleasure. If she can settle for that, maybe I'd have a shot. I can make her so delirious with orgasms she won't notice my poverty. I'm used to proving myself. I can prove myself to her.
And who the fuck is he to warn me off of her? Does he have plans of his own to make her his? Does he want her to himself, so he's warning me off?
Fuck him.
"Oh, yeah?" I volley back. "And what type of girl is for me?"
"Bad girls. Girls with daddy issues. Strippers. Sweet butts, or whatever you call your club girls."
I flex my fist as he kicks the machine on. He's probably not wrong. Those girls have low expectations and don't care that I don't have a career or money to offer them.
But fuck, I've had to prove myself my entire life. I can prove to him, and her, and the world that I'm worth it. I wrestle with a kernel of a doubt that maybe I'm not.
The bite of the needle in my forearm is a welcome distraction. It blocks out the self-doubt. And I have no desire to continue this conversation over the sound of the machine.
I know I'm not good enough for her, but if she were willing to let me try, I could be. All I know is that I didn't believe in love at first sight. I'm not even sure I believed in love at all. But want at first sight? Need at first sight? Obsession at first sight? Yeah, that's definitely a thing. And I learned that the moment my eyes found her.
"How long has she been working here?"
My eyes scan back to the back of Nikki, partially obscured by the half-wall, as if attracted by magnets.
"A week, why?"
I know I shouldn't piss off the guy currently stabbing my arm with a tiny needle, but I can't help myself.
"Seems like if you haven't made a move in a week, she's not for you either." I nod my head to Axel. "Any of the other guys take a swing at it?"
