I once asked Jake what made him go after some kid robbing a gas station.
“Had a gut feelin’,” was his explanation.
Jake always says you should trust your gut.
He was right because I couldn’t ask for a better brother. Gabriel told me he and his father left Cuba when he was only ten, leaving behind his mother and sister.
Six years after coming to the U.S., his father died.
After hearing his story, I soon realized that he wasn’t a bad guy at all, he just had a chip on his shoulder. In many ways, I could relate. We both lost important people in our lives but had gained something as well.
After a while, I could see the change the club was having on him. He was beginning to see this as a family, a brotherhood. Having a family again was exactly what Gabriel had needed.
As prospects, we were made to bunk in a room together, and one night I notice him sitting up in his bed writing in a notebook. I also had noticed that he was never really without it. Every spare moment was spent scribbling in that damn thing. So, one night I asked him what he was writing. He had studied me for a moment before handing it over. Every page was filled with amazing fuckin’ drawings.
The next day I grabbed his notebook out of the dresser and took it to Jake.
I had remembered Jake mentioning that Bobby, an older club member who ran the tattoo shop was looking for someone to start helping around Kings Ink.
Bobby was getting older, and his eyes were not as sharp as they use to be; therefore, he needed someone to slowly start taking the reins.
It took Jake about five seconds of looking at Gabriel’s work to know exactly what I was thinking.
Later that day, Jake approached Gabriel, telling him he wanted him to apprentice alongside Bobby at the tattoo shop.
Fast forward seven years, Gabriel now manages Kings Ink and is the most renowned tattoo artist in the state, and I manage Kings Custom Bikes.
Walking in the tattoo shop, I see him working on some chick’s hip.
Looking up, he gives me a chin lift. “Be with you in a minute, brother.”
“No problem, man,” I say, taking a seat in one of the chairs in the waiting area by the front door.
When Gabriel is done, he walks the girl over to the reception desk so she can pay.
I look over, noticing the chick eye-fucking me while licking her lips. She’s a hot little piece—blonde hair, tight little body, big ass tits.
As she walks past me to leave, she hands me a piece of paper with her number on it. Looking up from the paper in my hand, I see Gabriel grinning at me.
“What?”
“Man, get your ass in the fuckin’ chair.”
Standing, I slip the paper in my pocket. “That was a hot piece that just left, man.”
“She’s alright, I fucked her a few months back.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah, man. That pussy’s loose as fuck and the bitch is too damn clingy. Don’t bother.”
Fuckin’ figures.
Just as Gabriel is about to start on my arm, my phone rings.
Pulling it from my pocket, I see it’s Jake. Swiping the screen, I answer, “What’s up, Prez?”
“Where are you at?” he barks.