Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC 3)

Fuck them. Fuck them all. There was only one person she could count on in life. One person who had her best interest at heart and would make sure she got exactly what she needed every time, and that was herself. Others might have played a part for a while in her past, but inevitably, they left. Because they didn’t give enough of a shit to stay.

In the end, the only one anybody really had to count on was themself.

Shit, she was getting maudlin. Had to be Jig’s depressing tree of mortality getting to her. Shaking off the heavy blanket of despair, Izzy lost herself in her task. Two hours later, she flicked off the tattoo machine, wiped off the final few drops of blood, and sat back to admire her work. Damn fine if she did say so herself.

“Damn, girl. You give good ink.”

Izzy looked up into the flirty biker’s smiling and open face, so opposite his brother’s.

“Thanks,” she said.

He clapped her on the shoulder. “Name’s Maverick, and that’s Rocket,” he said pointing to the third in their group. “I ain’t got much space left, but I just might have to find a spot for you to work on.”

A grin spread across her face. Being appreciated for her talent was something that filled her with endless pride. “Anytime.”

Jig lowered his arm and blinked a few times as if waking from a deep slumber. Raising his arms, he arched his back into a deep stretch that had his shirt lifting. A rack of impressive abs peeked out. Izzy curled her tongue inside her mouth. It was either that or let it come out to play and lick his stomach.

Might be bad for business.

Jig grunted and lowered his arms.

Had he seriously fallen asleep through that?

Mav laughed. “You taking a nap, brother?”

“Just in the zone,” Jig said without inflection as he turned his attention to his thigh.

Izzy’s lower lip tucked between her teeth. The moment of truth. For some reason, her heart picked up speed and a flutter of nerves jiggled through her stomach.

After about thirty seconds of inspecting her work, Jig lifted his gaze and gave her a single nod. “Wrap it up,” he said, and her heart crashed to the floor. Asshole. Couldn’t even toss her a quick “looks good” or “thanks.”

A fucking nod.

Well, she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him know his lack of appreciation affected her. “You bet,” she said in what had to be an obviously false chipper tone.

Mav shot her a sympathetic smile as she dressed the tattoo and gave a quick recap of the aftercare. Without so much as a grunt, Jig left her chair, paid at the desk, and was out the door.

“Coming, Mav?” Rocket asked as he followed Jig.

“Yeah, be a minute. Just gonna make an appointment.”

Rocket chuckled. “Jesus. You’re a fuckin’ addict.”

Mav flipped him the bird then turned to Izzy.

“Rip can pencil you in at the desk,” she said as she turned away to clean her station. It was time for the bikers to beat feet so she could take a few moments to compose herself in peace.

“Don’t need an appointment, babe.”

Izzy spun back, her brow scrunched. “Oh, but you said…”

“Yeah, know what I said.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Listen, Jig’s a hard motherfucker. The shittiest of deals made him that way. I’m talking worst case scenario. You did right by him. Fuckin’ beautiful work. He was more than happy with it, trust me. He’s surly at best, but when he adds to the tat this time every year, it sets him off for a few days.”

What happened to him? The words were right there, dangling off the edge of her tongue, but she sucked them back into her mouth. It wasn’t any of her business. “Thanks for telling me. I guess I can get a little sensitive about my work.” She shrugged.

“Well, that wasn’t work. It was art, girl.” Mav had a killer smile that must make panties disintegrate all over Tennessee.

Lucky woman, whoever she was, to be on the receiving end of all that sexy charm. Though, please, a man like him? Izzy gave him six months tops before he took off for greener pastures or bigger tits, rounder ass, thicker wallet, whatever tripped his trigger.

“Gotta run. Got me an insatiable woman to tend to.” He winked. “I’ll be back soon. Can’t resist the needle, especially if there’s a gorgeous woman on the other end. Have a good one, Izzy.”

She gave him a genuine smile accompanied by an eye roll. He was easy to like, and the flirting was obviously harmless and meaningless. When he spoke of his girlfriend, his eyes lit with a spark that was impossible to fake. Nice to see…while it lasted. “You, too, Mav. It was nice meeting you.”