Page 9 of Christmas with Four Tattoo Artists

"Klaus," Andrew's tone was terse, his blue eyes glinting with a sense of control and authority.

"Andrew, Finn, James, Kai. What do ya know the whole fuckin’ gang is here," Klaus acknowledged them with a slight tilt of his head. "Didn't think you boys would be up so early."

The air was charged with tension, an undercurrent of animosity that had its roots in the past. Klaus and the twins’ old man, Jack Preston, had a history. Jack had been a prominent figure in the criminal world of Miami before he'd turned his life around, left his days of crime behind, and opened the tattoo parlor. He and Klaus were two sides of the same coin; both men lived life on the edge, with their own rules and loyalties. They’d been partners in crime in another lifetime, a formidable duo in the city’s underworld.

But that was years ago. Jack had left that world in his past, had handed over the reins of the tattoo parlor to his sons. Yet Klaus seemed to harbor the illusion that his past camaraderie with Jack entitled him to some special privileges.

"Seems like you're having some trouble understanding the rules of the place, Klaus," Finn finally spoke up. His voice, deep and stern, echoed in the parlor.

Klaus scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was under the impression that old friends of your dad would always be welcome here."

"And they are, as long as they respect the rules," Kai retorted, his eyes never leaving Klaus. "No appointment, no ink."

Klaus casually leaned back against the counter, his arms still crossed over his chest and shot Finn a lazy smirk. "You always did like playing by the rules, didn't you, soldier boy?” He directed this comment at Andrew, a former Marine.

"Only the ones that matter," Andrew retorted, his voice as cold as steel.

"Well," Klaus chuckled, that self-assured smirk never leaving his face. "I think Jack would've seen it differently."

"And yet," Andrew cut in, his gaze on Klaus as frosty as Finn’s. "Jack isn't here, is he? But we are. And we say no appointment, no service. So unless you and your boys have business here, I suggest you turn around and leave."

Tension filled the air. For a moment, I found myself wondering if a brawl was about to break out.

Finn suddenly turned to me. "Julia, how's the schedule looking for the next few hours?"

I blinked at him, taken aback by his abrupt shift. I turned my gaze to the screen in front of me, clicking through the appointments. "Well," I said, "It appears as though James’ appointment just canceled by email a few minutes ago. Oh, and Andrew’s too."

“And look at that,” Klaus said, his hands on his hips. “Sometimes things just have a way of working out, you know?”

Finn shot me a brief nod before turning back to Klaus. "Klaus, listen," Finn began, an uncharacteristic softness tingeing his tone. "If you boys are looking for something small, we can squeeze you in. But you gotta choose the designs right now, and next time, make a damn appointment."

Klaus slowly turned around, his dark eyes meeting Finn's with a calculating look. For a moment, he seemed to weigh his options, his gaze flitting from Finn to Andrew to me. Finally, a slow, triumphant grin spread across his face, his teeth glinting under the studio's lights.

"Deal.”

Chapter 4

Julia

With the consistent hum of tattoo machines finally coming to a rest, I slouched back against the counter. The last few hours had been a roller coaster of unbridled testosterone, buzzing needles, and strained silence.

Klaus and his boys, their fresh ink gleaming under the sterile white light, looked thoroughly pleased with themselves. They chatted and joked, throwing appreciative glances at Andrew and James and the rest of the crew as they cleaned and packed away their gear.

"Thanks, boys," Klaus said, giving a respectful nod to each of the men as he pulled on his leather jacket. The tension was still thick in the air, a thin string stretched taut between them, but it had been tempered, softened by the intimate act of inking skin. “Pleasure doing business with you.” He doffed an invisible cap before turning and gesturing to his crew to form up and head out.

Finn replied with a curt nod while Andrew just shrugged, his gaze flicking to me briefly. As Klaus and his crew strode out of the studio, the heavy door swinging shut behind them, I let out a sigh of relief. The roar of motorcycles ripped through the air, and I watched as Klaus and his boys peeled down the road and out of sight.

As if on cue, Maddie appeared by my side, a bundle of barely contained energy. "Well, that was intense!" she said, her blue eyes wide with excitement and curiosity.

“Something like that.”

"Got to say, Jules, that was impressive. Plenty of hard ass bikers in this town who’d pee their pants at Klaus freaking Henderson getting in their faces like that. But not you!" Maddie’s eyes lit up as she spoke, her gaze flitting over to where the guys were now lounging, their earlier tension eased by the departure of Klaus and the rest of the Crimson Devils.

Rubbing my temples, I let out a soft chuckle. "Well, Mads, I guess it's just part of the job, right? Besides," I glanced over at Finn, Andrew, James, and Kai, a small smile tugging at my lips, "I had backup."

"Oh, that you did," Maddie winked at me, her grin wide and teasing. As she scuttled off to clean her workstation, I found myself lost in thought. Backup indeed. But what exactly was my relationship with the four men who ran Blackjack's Tattoo Studio? Was I merely just the receptionist? The question hung in the air, unanswered as ever, as I returned to the rhythm of my work.

The lull of quiet began to stretch, and Maddie and I eased the remaining tension in the air through idle conversation, our talk inevitably circling back to my disastrous romantic ventures.

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