Chapter One

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Accepting the money and folded paper--which no doubt had the busty brunettes number--Terror turned to clean up his station. He had another appointment in thirty minutes, then he could go home to his dog and a nice cold beer.

Surprisingly, with the now small case of PTSD he had, Terror was able to work in the clubs tattoo shop, The Golden Quill. He was thankful to his younger sister, Trish, to get him to start drawing again. Once Frank, the owner of the shop, saw Terror's work he took him under his wing and taught him everything about tattoos. He enjoyed it most days, being able to joke around and put amazing art on people, until a sweetbutt or hang around came in and tried to get him in their bed.

Yea, he had needs as a man, but he never went to them for sex. It pissed them off, but it made them want him more. He didn't want jack shit to do with them.

The bell above the door rang. Pounding on the front counter followed by frat boy shouts, made him groan. He loved the brothers like his own little brother, Patrick, yet he didn't wanna deal with them today.

"Hey, brother," Viper said.

Terror looked up. Viper walked into his booth followed by Cyclone and Rampage. "What's up?"

"We're going out tonight!" Viper had a shit eating grin on his face and held out his arms.

"Congratulations. Does the rest of the club get an in-person announcement?"

"No, dipshit, you're coming with us," Rampage said from where he leaned on the wall with his arms crossed.

Terror laughed. "Rebel's letting you out?"

Ram scowled, gritting his teeth.

"It's for Hatchett," Cyclone jumped in. "First time he's going out since Jaylen got back and since the twins were born."

Jaylen had been back for almost four months. The twins, Avery and Arya--identical--,were born just over two months ago. Hatchett only went out for work or groceries, unless Jaylen was with him.

Every time there was something to celebrate that wasn't club business, the brothers went out. Eight out of ten times they went to the bar in town, Topside. They drank, got in a few fights, broke some furniture, let loose, and paid Manny, the owner, when it was all said and done.

He groaned. "I wasn't planning on going out."

"That's fine, Tehr. Plans are meant to be changed," Viper said. Always the clown and always the one with the comebacks no one could argue with. Fucker.

"I've got an appointment in ten. What time are y'all goin out?" He asked.

"We're going as soon as we leave here," Cyclone said.

Ram said, "You can come after you finish here. Hatchett won't show up until the girls are down."

"I'll see y'all there," he nodded as they left the booth.

His next client showed up a few minutes early and since it was the kids first tattoo, Terror talked him through it. The tattoo took him two hours and after taking pictures and getting paid, he clean up to head out. Frank was still working on a piece and told him he'd lock up.

He didn't need to fire up his bike. The bar was less than a block down the road and if anything the walk back would sober him up a bit. It was only nine-thirty and there was a least seven people outside the bar, drunk.

Inside was no better. Half the club was there and they were already pretty fucked up. Sweetbutts and pretty much every girl in the bar, was trying their luck to get with a big bad biker. Terror found Digger, Snake, and Falcon and walked over to them. They clapped him on the back and ordered shots and beers. An hour later, he was in a booth with Falcon, Viper, Hacker, and Snake.

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