The Irish Tattooist

Chapter 16

It has been longer than a week, but I just went on a diet so wanted to kill everything I saw. 

Still do. 

It has recently been brought to my attention that FUCKING GLASGOW ISNT IN FUCKING IRELAND. WHY DID NONE OF YOU BRING THIS TO MY ATTENTION? WHY AM I SO STUPID? For anyone looking for an answer- I sometimes think that Ireland and Scotland are the same or interchangeable. Triggering, but true. 

Here's the next chapter. Un-edited. 

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Two weeks. A fortnight. Fourteen days- I didn't know how long MC trips were meant to last, but this one was eating on my mind. Sometimes I felt sorry for my dad- the only person there who had to stand my nail biting and constant questions. 

"Another MC President is coming in for the week. To help stock us up and give guard against other smaller clubs who might want to take somethin'" Dad said, flipping through a magazine. 

"Really? What club?" 

"Snake Sinners. Mean, sly sons of bitches with steroid bodies to match, but their pres is one of my best friends. The most cunning guy I know" 

I grinned. "I like him already." 

Dad rolled his eyes. "You're going to wrap that whole club around your finger, just like you have this one." He paused in his magazine. "Be careful of Hammer. Him and Ripper don't get on well, and he's been itching for a reason to throw a fist in Ripper's face for years" 

"But Ripper can have him on his back in seconds right?" Just like he could me. 

Dad thought over this, running a hand through his messy locks. "Not in seconds. Ripper and Hammer fought together on the streets, so they know each other nearly inside and out. If they do go at it, Ripper will win. But he'll still receive a hard beating from Hammer" 

Someone strong enough to beat up Ripper? I shivered. The snippets dad had told me about Ripper's life now made me less anxious about him coming back- I knew he would. It was just the others. 

Like my little Seamus. 

Dad's phone rang, breaking through the relative silence. He picked it up and spoke, surprise clear on his face. When he finished the call, his eyes came to me. 

"Viper and his crew are here. Do you think you could go back to our house and get them settled in?" 

"Sure thing, do you need anything from home?" I held a hand up immediately and looked around the sparse room. "Nevermind. I'll be back later with some stuff. Love you dad" I swooped down and pecked him on the cheek then hurried outside, nodding to all the nurses who were now really familiar. 

I didn't want that to become a normal thing. 

I pulled up to our driveway and gaped at the herculean, rough looking men leaning on their bikes and smoking their lives away. 

I jumped out of the car and walked up the driveway, zipping up my leather jacket and flipping my hair over my shoulder. A man at the front of the group stood near the steps and had his eyes on me. 

Viper. He had nondescript brown hair with streaks of grey, but his face was so weathered and angled I knew immediately why they called him Viper. Lean muscle, but looked as if a strong wind would blow him over if it weren't for the steel in his reptilian eyes. 

"Viper?" 

He pushed through his men-who were now standing up and staring- and held out a hand. "That's me mam."