Demented Souls Collection: Books 5-8

Chapter 3

After his hair cut, Sadist stopped back by the clubhouse. He needed to shower. It was odd, and he wasn’t sure if it was real or imagined, but after a haircut he itched until he showered. He suspected it was the fine bits of hair that couldn’t be avoided entirely, even with the big cape they wrapped around you, but who knew?

He stepped inside the door and stopped to let his eyes adjust. Once he could see, he scanned the room, noting who was there and what was going on before climbing the stairs to his room. After his shower, dressed in hair-free clothes, he went back down to the main room where Dumbass was restocking the cooler behind the bar. Sadist stepped behind the bar and helped himself to a soda before joining Tuck at one of the tables.

“What’s up?” Sadist asked as he pulled out a chair and sat.

“Working on the details for our next run and waiting for info back on our package. You?”

“On my way to the shop.” He lifted the can and took a drink. “With things still up in the air about so many things, that package being one of them, I thought I’d check in, see if anything needed my attention.”

“I’ve got it covered for now, but there’s a meeting tonight.”

“Eleven, right?” Sadist waited for Tuck’s nod. “I’ll be over as soon as I close the shop. Should give us enough time to make sure everything’s ready before we close the doors.” The Demented Souls had to be extremely careful about what was said in the open, even inside the clubhouse. They could never be sure who might be listening. The prospect wasn’t a worry, but the fender fluff and the whores that hung around were another matter.

Tuck nodded again. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

“I’ll be around.”

Sadist stood, looked around to be sure there wasn’t anyone else he needed to talk to before he headed out. He turned back and caught Tuck’s eye.

“What?”

“Have Gizmo sweep before the meeting.”

Tuck nodded and they both knew they weren’t talking about the floor. No. Tuck would have the club’s tech sergeant sweep for bugs, for listening devices or tiny video cameras before they closed the door to discuss sensitive club business. Hinges screamed as a door opened above him and he looked up. Krissi, his best friend Ruger’s girl, stepped out of the room she shared with Ruger, at least when they were at the clubhouse for the last year, and glanced around. She wore a pair of loose sweatpants and a shirt she’d obviously taken from Ruger’s closet. It was just snug enough for Sadist to know she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her face was drawn, and dark shadows stood out under her eyes. It looked like she’d slept even worse than he had. She started down the stairs, taking them one at a time. He watched until she reached the bottom and went to the bar then joined her.

“How you doing?” he asked as he slid onto the stool beside her.

Krissi glanced at him from the corner of her eye but didn’t turn to look at him. “I’m all right.” She watched Dumbass as she waited for him to notice her, her hands twisting together in her lap. “I’m all right.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m all right.” Krissi shot him another look he didn’t know how to interpret. The same three words, three times in such quick succession though? That sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as anyone else.

“How’s Ruger?”

“He’s asleep, again.” She took a deep breath. “Kinard gave him something stronger a couple days ago. It lets him sleep but he hates to take it.” Krissi shook her head. “I’ve tried to get him to go home but he flat refuses the meds there. He’ll only take them here, where he’s got brothers to watch his back.” Sadist couldn’t blame him on that one. Ruger was still recovering from being stabbed in the back with some kind of glass. Ruger hadn’t seen who had stabbed him, but the top suspect was that Krissi’s father was trying to send some kind of message.

Sadist couldn’t imagine someone doing this to a member of their family, but from what Ruger had told him, Krissi was used to it. Her father was one mean son of a b***h and he hadn’t bothered to hide it from his family.

Dumbass finally noticed her and came over.

“Whatcha need?” the prospect glanced down the bar to where Jailbait sat with a bottle of water in front of her.

“Can I get a burger and a Pepsi?” Krissi ignored the roaming eyes.

“You want fries too?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Coming right up.” The prospect disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the door swinging behind him.

Coming back through the same door, Dumbass poured the soda Krissi had asked for and set it on the bar in front of her. “Your food will be out in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.” She took a sip and closed her eyes.

It wasn’t hard for Sadist to see what his best friend saw in her, but Sadist wasn’t sure she was worth the trouble in either Ruger’s life or the club. Switchblade was not someone they wanted watching them too closely.

Sadist talked with her a little while longer, trying to make her feel a little more comfortable while simultaneously trying to make sure Ruger wasn’t worse than they’d thought. After Dumbass delivered her food, Sadist said goodbye and headed for the shop.

On the ride, the girl from the salon snuck into his mind. Her words about scissors and a straight razor kept echoing in his mind.

Business was slow at The Sadist Den. Sadist usually stayed pretty busy, but today had been blocked off for several hours with one client who had called the day before to reschedule, so Sadist hung around in case of a walk in, for either a tat or a piercing, but no one came in. Normally, he hated the slow days but today he was playing with a design he couldn’t get out of his head. Something a little different.

He tried several ideas, ending up with three different sketches he was happy with. A quick check of the clock told him it was just past two, hopefully she was still there. Stacking the pages, he stood and took his kutte from the hook in the breakroom. Once it was on, he tucked the sketches in the inside pocket then headed for the front door.

“I’m going to lunch, if someone comes in or calls, I’ll be back about four. You can reach me on my cell if you need me.”

“Yes, sir.” Steph’s voice chased him as he stepped out the door.

On his bike, he directed it toward the salon he’d left several hours earlier and twisted the throttle. When he got there, he parked the bike, climbed off and went inside before he could have second thoughts. Sadist was relieved to find Beth at the front desk, neither gone nor busy.

“Hey.” A smile spread across her face. “You’re back way too soon for another cut. Is everything okay?”

“Hey,” he said back. “No, everything’s fine.” He ran one hand along his trimmed beard. “I wanted to show you something.” Sadist pulled the folded sketches from his pocket and laid them on the counter. “Something you said earlier struck a note. I couldn’t get it out if my mind.” He unfolded the pages and laid them flat as she stood to get a better look.

“What are these?” She picked one up and took a closer look. “Where did these come from?” Beth picked up a second and examined it a moment before looking up at him, a confused crease between her brows.

“I drew them. Do you like them?”

She looked back down at the three pages. “I do, but why?”

Sadist shrugged. “Why not? I had time and the idea just hit me.” What he didn’t want to say was something in her face, in her eyes had caught his attention and had made him want to see it again. He had been right. When she saw what he’d drawn, there it was. Totally worth it.

She kept moving between the three sketches, but he could tell, there was one she liked more than the others, it didn’t get put down as she picked up the others and compared them.

“You drew these?” She looked up again. “Just from what I said?”

Sadist nodded. “I did.” He watched her and his next words were out before he realized he was going to say them. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out with me?”

Beth looked up, eyes wide. “I-I don’t know.”

“I’m busy tonight, but how about tomorrow? I can do lunch or dinner, either one.”

She looked down, her face turning a bright pink he thought was cute.

“That is, if you’re not already attached.”

“No, I’m not attached.” She was quiet a moment. “I’m working during the day tomorrow, but I can go to dinner.”

“Great.” He flashed her his best smile and pulled a card for the Sadist Den from his wallet. After taking a moment to write his cell phone number on the back, he handed it to her. “Here’s my number, call or text with where I can pick you up. Is six good for you?”

“Six sounds great.” She looked down at the sketches. “Can I keep these?”

“Sure, that’s why I brought them.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You will, just let me know where.” He motioned to the card on the table in front of her, turned and left the little salon. He couldn’t help but grin, even though he knew it was the same look he’d been giving Ruger s**t over for the last year.