Broken but Breathing (Jinx Tattoos Book 2) (3 page)

§

Present

The fuckers burned down his home, killed his wife, and nearly ended him. The bullet had entered the back of his head, and exited the front, missing the main areas and vessels. He’d been fucked up for months, but the hate that had planted roots in his heart kept him moving forward. The sheriff swore up and down they’d done everything possible to find out who had committed the hate crimes, but everything was destroyed in the fire. Not that he believed the prick.

He left the state with a chip on his shoulder, anger, and insurance money from the house. He hit the road with nothing more than a bike and the thought of revenge to keep him moving. When he hooked up with Big Mike one night when he was jumped at a bar, and Xavier stepped in to help, it’d been the perfect fit. He became a hang around, and not long after, a prospect. Mike had promised him when the time was right, he would get his revenge.

He hadn’t forgotten, but he knew he only had one chance to get it right. The past couple of years had been about cementing his place among the club, protecting his new family, searching for answers, and controlling his anger. People thought losing your loved ones was the worst thing that could happen. The fact was not knowing what happened or where their bones lie was worse.

“You going to be offline for the day?” Mike asked, drawing him from his thoughts at the bar.

“Yeah, unless it’s an emergency.”

“Do what you need to, brother. I’ll hold the boys down,” Mike said.

“Appreciate it.” Snake pushed away from the bar. He didn’t go to the grief group weekly anymore, but right now he needed it. He’d damn near ruined himself falling into a bottle and trying to fight the entire world until he got right. Mike helped with that. He owed his President loyalty because he saved his life in a million different ways.

The ride to the meeting helped clear his mind. Nothing gave him more peace than the wind, the road beneath his tires, and the feeling of freedom that came with riding. He pulled into the church parking lot and killed the engine. St Mary’s Church had been good to him. They opened their doors to the support group and made each one feel welcome regardless of if they shared their story or not. His relationship with God took a heavy beating. He wasn’t sure if the man upstairs really existed anymore.

If he did, he’d be none too happy with the things Snake did. Still the group kept him grounded. There was something about sharing your sorrow with those who understood the intense pain that made it easier to bear. Walking into the large building, made his way to the small room off of the church where they held the meetings. There were the usual suspects who called out a greeting.

“Evening, Snake,” the facilitator, Bryan, said.

He nodded at the balding man with kind brown eyes, and a face worn by the sun and smiles. He exchanged greetings with the others seated in the fold-up chairs, and took his customary seat against the wall. It offered him a view of the door, and no blind spots. Old habits died hard. He’d lost his family and his dignity once because he wasn’t prepared. He’d be damned if that ever happened again. He narrowed his eyes as Jason walked in. He’d figured out the man’s game. The tanned, muscular, pretty boy preyed on the women who came in at their lowest. It turned his stomach, but it wasn’t any of his business.

“Okay, we’ll be starting class in a few minutes. I’m happy to see some familiar faces. Grief is a journey, and we all have our high points and low points. This group is here to be there each step of the way.”

The door pushed open, and his jaw dropped. A waif stood in the doorway looking like a fairy. Dirty blonde curls framed a slender, oval-shaped face. Bright blue eyes, which were prominent, added a fairytale surrealness to her delicate features. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth and shifted uncomfortably.

“Is this the grief group?” she asked.

Her voice was melodic, yet filled with sadness. Her pain was fresh. He remembered the overwhelmed, desperate look that came with the start of the healing process. After you’d accepted the hand you’d been dealt.

“Yes, it is,” Jason purred. Fucking shark in the water. It was clear the suit wearing businessman saw an easy target.

Not this time.
The woman seemed to shrink away from Jason.
Interesting.

“It is, I have an empty seat you’re welcome to,” Snake said.

She blinked slowly. “T-thank you.” She scurried over and sat beside him, placing her slender hands in her lap.

He liked his woman with a little meat on his bones. It was all he could do not to offer her one of the cookies they had on the table against the back wall. Her bones jutted out in sharp angles. He could tell she hadn’t been eating properly. Everyone dealt with grief in a different way, so he wasn’t judging, simply observing. He stared Jason down, pleased when the punk turned away.
This one’s off limits
. He studied her again, and she shifted her weight in her seat.

Stop looking at her before you scare her
. He forced his gaze back to Bryan.

“Welcome…” Bryan said.

“Estelle,” she whispered.

“Estelle, we’re glad to have you here tonight.”

“I was— Dr. Nimoy recommended it to me,” she said.

“Oh yes, Dr. Nimoy has helped many of us here. Since we have a new face, why don’t we go around the room and introduce ourselves?” Bryan suggested.

The meeting started up and he re-directed his attention to the others. He cleared his throat at his turn.

“They call me Snake. Most of you know me. I’m here because the anniversary of my family’s death is coming up quick. Always makes it harder to deal with. Otherwise, I’ve been doing a lot better dealing with things. I don’t think I’ll ever get closure. They were the victims of a hate crime.” He gritted his teeth, fighting against the desire to remain silent. Holding it all in led to explosions. That wasn’t safe. He had to keep his head on straight for his club. “They never caught who did it. The case is still open.”

When Estelle inhaled sharply, he turned to face her. She’d covered her mouth with her hand, and tears shone in her eyes. It touched him.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

He felt something inside him soften.

“We’ve all lost here,” he said.

Murmurs of agreement surrounded him.

“Is there anything the group can do to make this time easier for you, Snake?” Bryan asked.

He shook his head. “Just listening is plenty.”

“I think it’d be wise for you to make sure you have a buddy right now. It’s something to consider,” he said.

Snake nodded.

“What’s a buddy?” Estelle asked.

“Someone you trust to call when you feel yourself becoming too overwhelmed. We all have them,” Bryan replied.

Estelle nodded. It was her turn. She toyed with the belt of her black trench coat.

Bryan smiled at her, a soft expression on his face. “You don’t have to talk tonight, Estelle. We’re here to support you and allow you to go at your pace.”

She glanced up at Snake, almost as if she needed reassurance. Snake nodded. He wasn’t sure why she was so fearless. Most women shied away from him. It felt…nice. That was a dangerous emotion to indulge.

As they wrapped the session, he stood and stretched. Jason hovered in the doorway, eyeballing Estelle like a dog in heat.
Fuck
.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Snake asked.

Her eyebrows arched. “I…yeah, sure,” she replied with a shrug.

“Be seeing you,” Snake said to the others, quickly ushering her out the door.

“Estelle, I wanted to offer myself up as your buddy,” Jason said.

“Oh—”

“She can’t. We already agreed we’d be each other’s check in point,” Snake said.

Jason scowled. “Is that true, Estelle?” he asked.

“Yes, sorry,” she answered.

Good girl.
Snake placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her out of the church.

“You didn’t seem comfortable around, Jason. It’s why I jumped in. I’m not the type to strong arm anyone to get my kicks.”

“I wasn’t. I appreciate you stepping in. I wasn’t expecting to deal with that at a grief meeting,” she admitted as they stepped out into the evening air.

“Most women flock to him.”

“Exactly why he made me wary. Men that are used to yes, and woman being interested in them tend to have over-inflated egos.”

“You got good instincts. He likes to hit women at their most vulnerable. It’d be smart to keep him at a distance, and let him know you’re not interested.”

Her brow furrowed. “I thought I did.”

“He doesn’t understand subtle hints,” Snake said.

“Just great.”

“Other than him, the group’s good.”

“Yeah?” She cocked her head to the side as she looked at him.

“It’s hard being new. But if you stick with it, that fades, and you find a group of people who can say they understand what you go through without bullshitting you.”

“Is that why you come?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“This is me,” she said, gesturing to the black BMW in the parking lot.

He whistled. “Nice ride.”

She shrugged. “It gets me from point A to point B.”

In style no less
.

“Are you really going to be my buddy?” she asked.

“Do you want me to be?”

“I promised my doc I would be all in with this, so yes.”

“All right. Let me see you cell phone.”

He typed his number into her cell and called his own, saving her number.

“There you go. You get into a tight spot, and need to talk, call me.”

She nodded. “Same for you.”

He smirked. “Yeah, all right.”

He waited as she unlocked her door and slid inside.

“See you around, Estelle,” he said, tapping her hood as he walked over to his bike. He got on and pulled out of the parking lot knowing the refined woman would never place a call.

CHAPTER TWO

Estelle

I
like bartending.
She studied the quick pour the teacher demonstrated and did her best to emulate the technique as she counted silently in her head. The last thing she wanted to do was over pour and cut into the bar’s profits. She’d watched enough
Bar Rescue
to know that was a huge no-no. The highly addictive show had given her a crash course on what made a good bartender in the real world. School could only teach you so much, the rest was tricks of the trade and charisma. The thought of inventing a “work personality” appealed to her. Task completed, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at her accomplishment.

She threw herself into the classes head first. Recipes, ingredients, portion, and pours were logical. They made sense. She could wrap her brain around them. At the end of the day she felt a sense of worth. The class was full of people younger than her and friendly. They had no clue who she was or what she’d been through. Being anonymous rocked.

“Good job, Estelle,” Patrick, her instructor, said.

She flashed him a small smile and placed the bottle down. She’d be able to wow the customers with the best of them once she graduated. The thought of working somewhere small and a little wild kept her optimistic. Maybe if she spent the day listening to everyone else’s problem, her own would remain at bay.

“I think that’s it for the day. You guys are doing really well. I don’t see any of you having a problem finding a job after you get your certificates. I hope you’ll take advantage of the job placement assistance we offer.”

Her heart sank. Today had gone by too fast. She wasn’t ready to leave. Anxiety gnawed at her insides. The classes were at night, which made it about eleven. There were no coffee shops to linger in, or books stores to browse at. Short of walking around the twenty-four-hour grocer aimlessly, she was screwed. Her stomach gurgled as she gathered her folder, and purse, and said her good-byes. Conversation rose around her as students chatted happily.

Envy turned her pea green. Each of them had lives to get back to. She’d attended the grief meetings once a week. They helped, even if she didn’t always speak. She hadn’t seen Snake since the first night, which bothered her more than it should. The tattooed biker had a magnetic quality about him. From the minute she stepped in the room, she’d felt a strong pull in his direction.

He was the furthest thing from Everett and the crew she came up with. She liked that most. Honesty and frankness were qualities she craved. The abandonment, dismissal, and cruelty she’d faced at the hands of her
friends
changed her perception of the world. He had the look of a man one would call a straight shooter. She preferred his bluntness to nicely decorated lies.

She unlocked her car, slipped behind the wheel, and did her best to keep her emotions from spilling over. Today her baby girl, Emma, would’ve been two had she made it to her birthdate. She forced herself to start the car, and pull away.
Last thing I need is anyone asking me what’s wrong.
Her phone flashed. She had two missed messages.
Mom and Jolene.
While she loved both women, she couldn’t talk to them. Their gentle, well-meaning words would make her scream her throat raw. Tears flooded her eyes, and the road wavered. She pulled over on a side street. Her chest ached; her head pounded. She gripped the wheel and coughed as her body shook. She had nowhere to go and no one to call.

The hiccups began, and she knew from experience she had to calm down, or she’d be ill. Choking back her sobs, she glanced up at the ceiling. Ignorance was bliss. She’d been so caught in her misery last year the loneliness hadn’t registered. She wrapped her arms around her waist and rocked back and forth in an attempt to self-sooth.
I have to be stronger than this.
The image of Snake flashed in her mind. He was her buddy.
Everyone needs a support group.
She beat back the self-deprecating mental talk and clung to Dr. Nimoy’s teaching.
No more relapses. This year I move on.
Reaching across the center console, she grabbed her phone. Her hand shook as she pressed Snake’s name. Sucking down air, she tried to calm herself while the phone rang.

“Estelle? You okay?” His gruff voice was the answer to an unspoken prayer.

“S-Snake.” The sound of loud rock and rowdy men nearly drowned out his baritone.
A party during the week?

“Hold on, I need to take this outside.”

She sniffed, swiping at her eyes as she concentrated on the lifeline he’d extended the minute he answered her call.
I’m not alone anymore.

“You still there?” he asked.

“Y-yes.”

“What’s going on?”

“T-today would’ve been my daughter’s second birthday.”

He whistled. “Those are always the hardest to get through. The significant days, huh?”

She nodded.
He understands.
“Where are you right now?”

“I-I don’t know. I pulled over, so I didn’t wreck.”

“Take a deep breath, girl. You’re okay. You don’t have to go through this shit alone this year.” His voice was comforting. She differed to his dominance, grateful to have a guiding voice.

She gulped down air, taking back more control.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Look around and tell me what you see,” he instructed.

“I’m near Downton off of Vine Street,” she said, taking in the rundown buildings yet to be renovated. They’d cleaned up the once urban area, but there were spots that had yet to get the makeover treatment.

“Not a good place to be this late at night.”

“I don’t want to go home,” she whispered. Her face was on fire as she forced the words out, ashamed of the truth. Her shoulders slumped and she fixed her gaze on the steering wheel.

“I can understand that. How about you come to me?”

His words gave her pause. “Me come to you?” Hope flooded her.

“Yeah, why not?”

“I don’t want to impose—”

“Bullshit, babe. You didn’t call me to talk over the phone.”

“I don’t know why I called you,” she said honestly.

“Because you need someone, and for some reason you trust me. Which is why I’m going to give you my address. You’re going to come over, and we’ll get through this night together. You’re already ahead of the game. You reached out. Trying to do this alone leads to more pain and bad decisions. I don’t want to see you go down that road. Trust me, I did it enough for the both of us.”

“Where did it take you?” she asked, speaking without thinking.

He sighed. “Down a bottle and behind a cell with assault charges.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

He snickered. “Oh, she says. You ready to listen to me now?”

His candidness cracked open her shell.

“Yes.”

“Good girl. You got a pen and paper?”

She dug in her purse, pulling out a pen and tiny notebook. “Uh huh.”

“Okay, take down my address.” She jotted down his information. “You’re about thirty minutes away. I’ll be out front waiting for you, all right?”

“Yes. Snake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t need to thank me for shit. I know your pain. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy or leave you alone to deal with it. I know we ended up thrown together at the group. I’m not much for being anyone’s buddy. But support I can do.”

They disconnected, and she sat up in her car and wiped away her tears. Clearing her throat, she re-started the car, pulled out of her parking space, and hit the road. The farther she got from the city lights, the better she felt. The darkness was a welcoming friend. You could hide all your insecurities, flaws, and tears in its inky velvet. Slowing to make sure she found the drive, she turned off the main road.
Is this a fortress or something?
She didn’t know much about Motorcycle Clubs. She’d never been into the T.V. shows that depicted them, but she knew they weren’t people who tolerated disrespect, or people in their business.

Shame washed over her. She hadn’t expected Snake to be so kind.
Snake, I wonder how he got that name?
She’d noticed the brightly done traditional style snake tattoo that peeked out of his white T-shirt. But something told her the name came before the tattoos.
What am I doing coming here? I don’t even know his real name. I used to be smarter.
She hesitated at the bend, just before the curve that would lead her to the building she saw in the distance.

The bond she felt with Snake made no sense. She knew next to nothing about the man, other than his story. It was more connection than she held with anyone else, which had to mean something.
That I’ve finally gone off the deep end. This man doesn’t run in the same circles I’m used to.
She paused.
And maybe that’s the best thing of all.
The old Estelle was timid and soft-spoken. This time around she would be bold, and fearless. Because a life lived carefully and overthought, was not any safer.

Events unfolded unpredictably no matter how you tried to stack the odds in your favor. Clearing her throat, she flexed the muscles in her arm, cracked her neck, and pushed the pedal moving the car forward. Snake was leaned against the wall outside in a black pea coat. His collar was upturned, and he had a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
He’s a new age James Dean.
With his tattoos covered he was downright striking.

His broad shoulders filled out the coat, and his dark hair was slicked back from his face. Never one for beards, she had to admit the neatly groomed facial hair added to his rustic appeal. The gentle smile he gave her changed his demeanor drastically. His lips curved upward, and his eyes lost their coldness. The transformation took the edge off her internal panic. Whoever this man was, he cared for some godforsaken reason. That’s what mattered. Life wasn’t black and white. She wouldn’t continue to live by absolutes and preconceived notions. It was all about what a person showed you. Pulling up in front of him she cut the engine, unsure of what to do next as he stalked toward her door with the predatory grace of a lean jungle cat.

Hypnotized by his movement, she remained in the car.

He opened up the door and leaned in. “You getting out or you plan on staying there all night?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

He snickered. “Fair enough, but I imagine it’s going to get pretty cold in a minute. You nervous?”

She looked up at him and shrugged.

“Think of it this way…you know the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. That’s more than most of my brothers can say.”

“You have siblings?”

He laughed. “Naw, that’s what I call the other members in the club.”

“Oh. I don’t know much about…umm, clubs.”

He smirked. “Didn’t figure you did. It doesn’t seem like your scene.”

The words felt like a challenge.

She glanced up at him from underneath her lashes. “You never can tell.”

His lips quirked upward. “No, I guess not. You got more fire than I initially imagined. Hold on to that. It’ll keep you going in the end. Get out. We’ll head inside. If you want to talk, I’ll listen. If not, I’ll keep our minds off anything too serious.”

“You can’t promise that,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping from the car.

“You’ll find out soon enough I don’t make promises I can’t keep. This ain’t your world. Once we step through the door, you’ll be entering the greatest show on Earth.”

“What, a circus?” she asked, wrinkling her nose as she imagined a sexual orgy-style free for all.

“Fuck no, real freedom. This is life the way it was meant to be lived. No bullshit, politically correct mumbo jumbo, or restrictions. You and I know more than most all the restrictions placed upon us don’t really keep us safe.”

His words eerily echoed her own thoughts. She saw the man in a new light.

“You understand?”

“I think I do,” she replied nervously.

“What’s it going to be, Estelle? Talking or living?”

“Living,” she answered, feeling firmly in control for the first time that day.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. If you give them respect, my brothers will return it. You don’t seem like the type to mouth off, but I’ll tell you now that equality shit doesn’t fly here. If you give them shit or lip, they’re going to shut you down.”

Her stomach dropped into her shoes. She felt like she was on a roller coaster, and the sensation made her feel alive. Like a hypothermia victim immersed in warm water it was a painful yet necessary process.

“You trust me?” he asked.

“I don’t know why, but I do,” she stated, closing the door behind her.

§

Snake

S
he stopped in the doorway. “Before we go in, I have one question.”

“What’s that?” he asked, unsure of what she’d say. The woman was a wreck. A beautiful disaster to be sure, but unpredictable as hell. It kept him on his toes and touched one of his few soft spots. He remembered that out of control period. Mike had been the one to get him on the path. He wanted to pay the favor forward.

“What’s your name?”