The Irish Tattooist

Chapter 5

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It was warm the whole night, but I stayed awake watching the constantly twitching Seamus. I wonder what he did to get beaten so bad, he looked to much like an angel to do something truly horrible- although life often teaches people very quickly to not judge a book by its cover. The morning came quickly and I was yawning with the lack of sleep. There was too much to think about and too much I was angry about.

It wasn't my father's fault, this was his way of life. Bianca's words came back to me; just because they are our own values doesn't make them the best for others.

She was always right.

I sighed, standing to go and cook breakfast. It was the least I could do for my behaviour yesterday. But since Ripper had stayed the night, an unintelligible expression on his face as he watched me, I knew it was going to be hard to reign in my temper.

The eggs and bacon were sizzling in the pan when Hugh was out of bed, his five o'clock shadow darker than ever and bordering on a beard. I turned to him, keeping my head bowed.

"I'm sorry for the way I treated you yesterday. This is your lifestyle and I tried to force my own values on you" Shaking my head, I stared at my feet.

Hugh exhaled, bringing his log like arms around my body. His chin rested upon my head, and he held me close despite my inability to hug him back.

"It's okay, there is nothing to forgive. You're as bold as your mother and as headstrong as I was when I was your age. And since you've been through a lot, I should have known it went to something deeper" He kissed my hair, pulling back slightly- the twinkle back in his green eyes.

He had forgiven me so easily. "Today, I want you to meet my main men, the men I trust with my life"

I nodded once, looking back to the pan now that everything was okay. "Sure, when?"

Hugh checked the clock in the corner of the room, thinking it over in his head. "About 30 minutes or so"

Eyes widening, I gave him the side eye, shaking my head again. "You could have told me that before I started cooking. Now get out some more bacon and eggs. We're gonna have to cook a feast judging by the size of the men you keep"

Hugh laughed, padding over to the fridge. "Yes ma'am"

The men came over earlier than expected and I yelled at dad for lying. One of the men was Slater, and he laughed as he watched me yell at the beast that was my father. Beast, the VP of the club, had a hard look about him. Tattooed up to his neck, pierced on his nose and ears, with the mean glint of a man who wouldn't hesitate to stomp on your balls - this was the man at the bar on my first night here. He was half greek and half irish, and to be honest, the feeling he gave off was bull like. Beast didn't like me, and he told me so the first time he talked to me.

Ah well.

The next was a man with one eye, the other had a scar across his socket. His name was Deadeye and he handled all the arms for the club. Ex military, stocky and brawny, the kind of man that had a lot of experience and was a hardened warrior because of it.

He didn't comment or acknowledge me much. I didn't mind, when someone's seen that much shit, then he had his own problems to deal with. But I immediately told him I liked him, as he kept to himself and just observed. Deadeye gave me a calculating gaze before turning back to his food.

Slater was there of course, dressed immaculately this time in a dress shirt and slacks. When I asked him about it, he said he had a business meeting later- since he owned both the bar and the tattoo studio.