Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,90
canoodling in the middle of the quad, it was clear there was more than sex there. They made moony eyes at each other that made me happy for them...and miserable for me.
“You guys should go grab your seats,” Channing said. “I need to head into my place in line. Please don’t scream when they call my name.”
We all gave him a look that made it clear we were going to holler, thank you very much. Channing had made all of us proud, not only getting his shit together and going to college, but choosing a double major at the last minute, and managing to graduate in the spring—that little fucker had taken a combination of full-time classes on campus and another full load of classes online, adding just one semester to his graduation date. It was fucking insane, and he looked exhausted but pleased.
People stared as we made our way to the long row of seats that had been reserved for us. I couldn’t blame them. A bunch of tall, tatted guys who looked like they could be in a gang? Well, there was also Trinity and her son, Max. But her hair was currently a green so brilliant it looked like sunlight through tree leaves.
Reagan and Dane were chatting animatedly. Christian was trying to hide the fact that he was already close to weeping. Javi was texting, probably with Gordo, based on the love-struck smile on his face. Bryce was twisted in his seat and talking to the family behind us.
And me? I was sitting next to Bryan and pretending I didn’t feel every bit of space that separated us.
Fuck me, I shouldn’t even be aware of him. He was just eighteen and still so fragile. Juvie had done a number on him, and every day at the shop he seemed to war between snapping at us or looking as if he were going to crumble from the pressure in his life. And God help me, all I wanted to do was save him.
Which was a huge fucking joke, seeing as I struggled to save myself on the daily. Some things you just can’t leave in the past. Those memories become demons that claw at you, if you let them, and I had a whole city of ghosts in me that refused to be quiet. What could someone like me offer someone like Bryan?
He was fidgeting next to me, and I stole a look at him. His gaze was taking in all of the people, the graduates. This ceremony that celebrated success and all the things he probably thought he’d never have. The corner of his beautiful mouth was turned down, and I wanted to kiss that frown away.
Thankfully the ceremony began and offered a much needed distraction. There were all the speeches, the handshaking, the pomp and circumstance. Then the graduates were being called, and when Channing’s name was said, all of us jumped out of our chairs and screamed like lunatics. It was so tacky and so wonderful. Channing’s face was red, but he tossed us a thumbs-up and the whole crowd erupted in laughter.
By the time the ceremony was over, we were all starving. Reagan had made reservations at a local restaurant, offering to treat us all to dinner. As we were seated, I noticed Bryan kept checking his phone, a worried expression pressed into his features. The waiter came and poured drinks and took orders, and Bryan was clearly distracted. I didn’t mean to be staring, but the phone kept getting pulled out, and his anxiety grew palpable, and something pricked at me that said things were not right.
Before the food came out, Bryan excused himself. His body was a portrait of stress; hell, I spotted pit stains on his shirt. He ducked away looking for all the world like a rabbit running from a wolf. But I’d been a wolf once, and I couldn’t ignore this. After waiting a moment so I wouldn’t be too conspicuous, I walked out after him.
It was easy to keep an eye on Bryan’s red hair as I wove between tables. But then a waiter came by and I had to step to the side, letting him and his heavy tray through, and when I looked up again, Bryan was nowhere to be seen. Muttering to myself, I looked in the bathroom. He wasn’t there.
Nor was he near the hostess desk, or in the bar area. My heart had started to race. It was a hunch, but I felt certain Bryan was in trouble. Hurrying, I went outside. There were a few people strolling by the restaurant and the valet station, but I couldn’t see him. I stepped over to one of the valet drivers. “You see a kid with red hair come out?”
“Yeah. He was with another dude. They went that way.” He pointed.
Thanking him, I started to jog in the direction he’d indicated. Where are you, Bryan? And what’s going on?
I almost ran past the alley when I heard Bryan’s muffled groan. My stomach seized, the rich dinner I’d just eaten threatening to make its way up.
The alley was dark but clean. I saw Bryan pressed against the wall. His hand was on his cheek as if someone had hit him. The large form in front of him seemed the likely suspect and I saw red, my anger thunderous.
The man was tall and well built, his blond hair precisely styled in what was probably a three-hundred-dollar haircut.
“You little cock tease,” he snarled at Bryan. My blood froze.
Bryan peered at the man through wet lashes. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t ready—”
“What is there to be ready for? This is a quid pro quo situation. Not that you’d know what that means,” the man said, his laugh nasty. “But I did my part, and now that sweet ass of yours needs to do its part.”
Sniffling, Bryan shook his head. “I don’t want—”
Quick as lightning, the man slapped Bryan again, his hand fast and malicious. Bryan’s cry echoed, and he sagged against the wall.
Me? I was going to kill that motherfucker. The man turned to the sound of my shoes beating pavement as I rushed toward him, his angry face morphing into shock. “Who the fuck are—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish. I grabbed his jacket and yanked him hard away from Bryan.
“Mateo, no!” I heard Bryan’s shout but it didn’t register. All that registered was the flare of pain in my knuckles as they slammed into the side of the man’s head. He’d seen my punch coming and managed to roll with the force, but it set him off balance and he fell hard on his ass.
Bryan’s fingers clung to my shirt. They stopped me from dropping on top of the guy and beating the shit out of him. “Stop, Mateo! God, stop it!” His voice was thick with tears and it cut through the red. I stepped back and stood between him and the fucker on the ground.
“If you hit people who tell you no,” I said through gritted teeth, “then expect to get knocked on your ass.”
Instead of cowering, the man smiled through bloody teeth. Then he laughed, and it rubbed at me like sandpaper.
Bryan was on his way to hyperventilating. “You don’t understand,” he whispered behind me.
The man stood slowly, wincing with the effort. But he never lost his smile fully. Then he locked his gaze on mine; it was filled with cold hatred.
“If you assault lawyers,” he said to me, slow and malicious, “expect to get sued into oblivion.”
My shoulders tensed. He noticed and nodded with something approaching glee. “Oh, yes. I’m a lawyer and I’m going to leave you penniless. All you’ll have left is regret.”
His phone was out then, and I knew it was too late to stop this pain train from leaving the station. Still, I found I didn’t regret it. I peeked over my shoulder to check on Bryan. His beautiful blues were filled with tears.
“Well,” I sighed, speaking more for myself than for him. “You’d better be worth the trouble.”
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Old Ink
Get Ink’d: Book 3
Ali Lyda
© 2020
Disclaimer
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are all fictitious for the reader’s pleasure. Any similarities to real people, places, events, living or dead are all coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit content that is intended for ADULTS ONLY (+18).