Heartless (Steel Demons MC #6) - Crystal Ash Page 0,14

collection of tables.

I went up to the window, catching the eye of the red-faced chef. He paused his chopping to grab a notepad and a pen.

“What can I get ya?” He tilted his head, making a clear effort to hide his neck tattoo.

“Two shepherd’s pies,” I said. “Please,” I added.

He scribbled it down. “Any sides? Drinks?”

Mari didn’t ask for anything else, but I ordered teas for us both.

“Mmkay.” The chef looked at me pointedly. “How you payin’?”

I steeled myself with a breath. This could go horribly wrong, but I couldn’t continue to be fearful of human interaction. It was always a risk, but lately it felt just terrifying rather than suicidal.

“You looking to get that covered up?” I asked in a low voice.

The chef’s eyes widened, his hand immediately clapping to his neck. “What?”

“That neck tattoo you’re hiding. You want it covered so you don’t have to keep wearing a jacket in a sweltering hot kitchen?”

His hand lowered slowly, but he still looked uneasy. “So, what, you know a guy?”

“You’re looking at him,” I said. “I’m a tattoo artist. I’ll cover that up for you, and do any other work you’d like.”

“You will, huh?” He looked me over, taking in my cut and patches. “You with them bikers that just rode in?”

“That’s us, yeah,” I said. “We’re not here for trouble. Just looking for a home like everyone else.”

“Stickin’ around then?”

“For the time being, yes.”

“All right.” He rubbed his jaw, nodding agreeably. “Yeah, okay. I’ll trade ya grub for ink.”

“Good. I’m at the B&B in the northwest part of town. Come by when you’re ready and ask for Shadow.”

“Right on, man.” He ripped my order off of the notepad and stabbed it onto a receipt spindle. “I’ll grab your shepherd’s pies. They just came out of the oven.”

“Thanks.”

I scanned the dining room as I waited, spotting Mari at a table next to a window looking out onto the street. A woman with two small children walked by on the sidewalk, and Mari waved to the little girl holding her mother’s hand.

“Two shepherd’s pies.” The mismatched ceramic bowls clattered on the serving window. “I’ll bring your teas out in a sec. And hey, man…”

“Yeah?” I grabbed our food, mouth already watering at the sight of the savory filling and lightly browned mashed potatoes.

“This thing?” The chef pulled down his collar to show me the full tattoo. “I was a dumbfuck when I was young, okay? I don’t subscribe to any of that shit—”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” I told him. “I’m the last person to judge on poor decisions.”

He nodded once more, thumping the counter with his hand. “Enjoy your meal, man.”

I headed for the table where Mari waited and set our food down in front of her.

“Thank you for lunch,” she said sweetly, sliding a napkin and utensils toward me.

“Thank you for telling me about shepherd’s pie.” I dug in with a fork, watching the steam rise from the piping hot filling.

“If you don’t mind me asking...” Mari licked a small piece of mashed potato from her fork. “What did you trade for the meal?”

“Tattoos,” I said, sneaking a glance toward the kitchen, then lowered my voice. “The chef has a swastika on his neck. I’m going to cover it up for him.”

“Oh.” Mari’s brows lifted in surprise. “I didn’t see that.”

“He’s hiding it under his jacket. I offered the cover-up on a hunch, glad he took it.”

Mari took another bite of her food thoughtfully. “I haven’t seen any tattoo shops here yet. You’d probably make a killing if you opened one. You’d have no competition.”

“Maybe.” I turned it over in my head as I chewed my food. Tattooing and drawing all day would be a dream career for me. My only hesitation was in having to deal with people I didn’t know. That part still made me uneasy. But I did gain a possible new client by offering my services to a complete stranger, and that hadn’t been so bad.

Mari and I talked lightly until we were scraping the bottoms of our bowls. Fuck, shepherd’s pie was good. Maybe I could talk Jandro into making it if we ever settled permanently.

Once finished, we returned our dishes to the serving counter. On the other side, the chef and his partner chopped potatoes, I assumed for more pie.

“Thank you, it was delicious!” Mari called through the window.

“Thanks for comin’ in,” the chef called. “And I’ll be seeing you soon, man!”

“Looking forward to it.” Taking Mari’s hand, we headed