Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Onyx worked at Silver Ink, the tattoo shop owned by the Silver Saints, when Mac and Bridget introduced us. The manager, Patriot, offered me a job, but I hesitated to take it. I’d grown up around the Saints. Hell, Mac had been the one to teach me to ride. I didn’t want anything I hadn’t earned, but when Patriot, the manager of the studio, saw my work, he talked me into it. Onyx and I grew as close as brothers, so when he decided to prospect with the Hounds of Hellfire, I was happy for him. Even though it meant they stole him away to work at their studio out in Riverstone.
Eventually, though, Onyx convinced me to do the same. It turned out to be one of the best decisions I’d ever made.
“Yo,” he greeted. “Bridget mentioned Mamma Emilia was cookin’.”
Sunday dinners at any DeLuca house were a “more the merrier” situation, so after experiencing some of my mamma’s—or Aunt Giulia’s—cooking, some of my MC brothers were known to drop by from time to time. The few who knew who I really was.
“Fair warning, the mammas are on about marriage and babies again.”
Onyx blanched and stepped backward, but I grabbed his cut and dragged him into the house. “Didn’t mean you could leave, fratello,” I grunted. Then I raised my voice as I shoved him into the dining room. “Heyyy, look who we have here!”
“Reeve!” my mother exclaimed, jumping to her feet and running over to hug him. She was one of the only people who ever got away with calling him by his real name.
“What about you, cucciolo?” she asked when she let him go. “Have you found a girl to give me more grandbabies?”
“Ahhh, no,” Onyx replied uneasily.
She reached up and whacked him on the back of the head, the same as she would any boy she considered to be like a son. “What is it with you boys? Too busy with work or running around like fools to find a good woman and make babies.”
“Now, now, Emilia,” Fonso piped up, his face serious, but his eyes dancing with laughter. “I’m sure they get plenty of practice.”
My mamma gasped and made the sign of the cross.
I nearly rolled my eyes. It had been a long time since I’d been interested in a relationship, and I’d never been a fling kind of guy.
Besides, if any of my single brothers or I tried to bring a one-night stand or “club bunny” to the clubhouse, King—our prez—would have our asses. He’d never liked it, but he’d made it an iron-clad rule once he got married and had a kid.
“Blaze and Courtney will be having their baby in three months,” Onyx offered, referring to our VP and his old lady.
“Hmm,” Mamma sniffed. “Well, at least some of those Hounds are doing right by their mothers.”
“Don’t worry, Mamma,” my sister said sweetly. “I’ll give you a whole houseful of grandbabies.”
I frowned at sixteen-year-old Elena, matching the expression of her twin, Gavin. Her father didn’t look any happier.
“Just how are you gonna do that?” I growled.
Her eyes narrowed, and she shot a withering stare at each of us before she snapped, “You can’t keep all the boys away from me forever, Matteo.”
I snorted. “Bullshit.”
“Watch me,” growled Gavin.
Fonso just nodded his head in solidarity. That was the most we were gonna get from him. He let her brothers do the dirty work so he wouldn’t have to be the bag guy with his princess. We’d all been wrapped around Elena’s finger since the day she was born, so I didn’t hold a grudge against him for wanting to stay on the pedestal she’d put him on.
“Language!” Aunt Giulia scolded, slapping me upside the back of the head since she’d been walking past me when I cursed.
“Ouch, Zia!” I grunted, rubbing the sore spot.
She glared at me, then smiled warmly at Onyx. “Let me get you a plate.”
He smiled gratefully and followed her over to the spread of food on the massive kitchen island.
When my mother didn’t start in on me again, I warily returned to my seat at the table to finish my meal.
“Ink.”
I turned my head to look at Domenico De Angelis, a member of the family who worked for Rafa here in Georgia.
“We could use your help with a”—he paused and glanced around for a second—“situation this week. There might be a connection to the Hounds.”
I shook my head. “Gotta talk to King.” Anything involving the MC needed to be discussed with my prez before anyone else.
“It’s family business,” Domenico said with a frown.
“Not if it involves the Hounds of Hellfire,” Rafa chimed in, backing me up. “Besides, King isn’t likely to let us borrow Ink anytime soon anyway.”
“Why not?” asked Marco, one of Rafa’s brothers.
“Don’t know,” I drawled sarcastically, leaning back in my chair. “Maybe ’cause last time you got me shot?”