Page 4 of Ink

He scowls at me and says, "I can't be that happy. I finally fucked someone worth fucking because you're here crying your pathetic heart out."

I nod before tilting my head and eyeing him. He's still in his black t-shirt and jeans, his blonde hair a mess from Phoebe's hands while his brown eyes look bloodshot; clearly, he's been drinking. "Actually, I've just found out that my father, you know, the man who is friends with your dad, has lung cancer. If he's lucky, he'll have five years the most."

His eyes widen in shock before my father comes behind me, scowling at Josh. "You cheated on my daughter?"

Josh takes a step back.

He's always been intimidated by dad; being a deputy in the sheriff's department doesn't help. He stutters, "I, uh, well, you see, it's just..."

My dad stops him, putting his hand up. "I don't give a shit what your excuse is; you cheated on my fucking daughter." Josh's eyes widen, and I smirk. "You've got five seconds to get the fuck off of my property before I fucking shoot you."

Josh scrambles, rushing towards his car while tripping over his feet, and I bite my lip to stop my laughter. You can always count on my dad to scare the life out of people.

My laughter fades, and a realization hits.

I won't always have my daddy.

A sob lets out again, and my dad sighs, taking me into his arms, knowing it's losing him that's killing me slowly—losing my cheerleader, my hero. He guides me into the house, towards the living room, where my Momma is already sitting. She opens the blanket for me, and I sit beside her before my dad sits next to me; I lean into him, putting my head on his shoulder while my Momma plays an old-fashioned movie.

I didn't move from my spot for the rest of the evening, holding onto my dad as if my life depended on it, hoping and praying the doctor's diagnoses were wrong so my parents could grow old and gray together as they'd planned. Still, I guess that's for the fairytales.

Chapter 1

Ink – Age 29 – Three Months Prior

I grunt as Ginger deep-throats my cock, the head hitting the back of her throat, while Clitter, formally known as Claire, the high school slut, eats Ginger out from behind like she's starved. I watch as her fingers play with Ginger's back hole before she presses her finger inside while sucking on her clit, making Ginger groan around my cock, and normally that would get me hot, it would make my balls that Ginger is currently fondling to tighten up, but I'm not getting a fucking thing.

Shit.

It's been like this for a few months now; the sweet butts just aren't doing it for me anymore; I've grown bored of them, and they're games.

I need new pussy.

Just as I finish the thought, the door to my room in the clubhouse opens. My fucking mother waltzes in like I haven't got two fucking women in here with me, with one holding my now deflating cock in her mouth. I quickly jump back, putting myself away while scowling at my mother. Both women gasp and frown, unhappy about being interrupted but not caring to cover up.

Clitter still has her finger shoved in Ginger's ass.

Mom points at the two women, though, not caring what she just walked in on: "You two, out now."

They scowl before Clitter removes her finger from Ginger's ass and sucks it into her mouth, and again, fucking nothing. They both do as they're told while I sigh as they leave the room, butt-naked. This is the fifth time in the space of two months that mom has interrupted me, and it's starting to fucking piss me off. I'm struggling to find pleasure with these women as it is.

"Mom, how many times have I told you not to just fucking walk into my room? I'm not a teenager anymore."

She scowls at me and crosses her arms over her chest. "I don't give a shit; you are my son; if I want to talk to you, then I fucking will!"

I shake my head at her, placing my hands on my hips, knowing there's no point in arguing with her because it'll just piss her off. It's also why I haven't changed the locks on my home, and Dad's no fucking help—always trying to appease her.

"What do you need, mom?"

I sound dickish, and I don't try to hide it. She's getting fucking worse. I love my mother, but she needs to step back from my life and give me room to breathe.

She scowls harder at me. "I thought you would talk to Travis about coming to my birthday? He didn't show Jackson."

I sigh and run an inked hand over my short hair, making her narrow her eyes at it. She hates my Ink and gives me grief every time she notices it, but I love it, so it's just tough shit. Maybe if she'd allowed some color in the fucking house I grew up in, I might not have gone down this route: "Mom, it's Dagger now, and you know that just like I'm Ink. If the Pres hears you calling us by our given names without our consent, then you could be banned from the clubhouse and all club activities. You know this, and I did speak to him; he couldn't make it. You know his squadron comes first; they have since the day he joined the Navy Seals; they're his family as much as we are, maybe even more."

Her face goes red, and I sigh again. "Mom, you need to give him space." And she really fucking does; she's obsessed with getting him to talk to her, but he doesn't want to, and for years I've been wondering what the fuck she did that was so bad for him to not want a thing to do with her or dad, to join the fucking Navy.

For fuck's sake, every time I speak to him about her, he shuts me down and then doesn't talk to me for a few days.

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