Todos os capítulos de The Devil's Scars (The Road Devils MC 1): Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

A little over three hours later, Zoe hung up the phone with the nitrile glove supplier, feeling completely happy and proud. At eight-oh-nine that morning, she’d walked into a disorganized, poorly-run and -managed tattoo place, with a storage room lacking any kind of back-up supplies and a client schedule smudged with coffee-cup rings and reeking of onions. She’d looked around, sighed, shrugged off her jean jacket, and buckled down.After a solid morning of work, and a pot of coffee, and some focus and the speed-reading of a whole lot of additional paperwork, Zoe felt comfortably on top of things at Blue Dragon Ink. There was still a lot to get done, of course, but she felt on much steadier ground, at least, had a sense of the bigger picture. She wasn’t happy that so much had slipped through the cracks, but at least she knew that it had happened, and she had taken some of the most important steps to fix the situation.She glanced at the clock, saw that she had about thirty minutes befo

Zoe laughed at that, and that was when her fear evaporated. “You sure as hell do, Scars. You did with me.”“I didn’t know that’s what it was with you.”“Oh, my God. Really?” She was mocking him now, and suddenly that seemed like the best way to get out of this confusing situation: make him mad as hell at her so he’d storm out, and then – with a bit of four-leaf-clover luck – he’d stay far, far away from her. Forever. “So when you took me to the bar back room, you were proposing marriage?” Her lip curled up. “My mistake, Scars.”“Hey.” The urge to shake her until she stopped talking complete bullshit was building in his broad chest. “Zoe –”“Look, I don’t understand what you’re trying to do here,” she cut him off. “But if I had to guess, I’d say that it’s got something to do with Wolf.”That threw him and his brow furrowed again. “Wolf?”“Yeah.” She was back in control now and she glared at him. “You know he’s my best friend, and you know he’s gonna be pissed that you had sex with me.

She’d welcomed in the guys here at Blue Dragon, absolutely, because she’d discovered that they were genuine professionals, passionate about the art of tattooing, respectful and funny as hell. Any concerns that she’d had of being treated like ‘less than’ just because she was a woman had been totally misplaced. The guys from the garage had been brought closer too, because they’d done some repair work on her shitty little car, and bought Keira a new carseat as a welcome gift. Silver was turning out to be an incredible landlord, and Rebel in the kitchen over at Satan’s was totally cool with Zoe’s vegetarianism, and was expanding his cooking repertoire by bringing her lunch every day at work. Bad-ass Rebel had admitted to her up-front that – not shockingly – he was a meat-man, a carnivore through and through, but for Zoe, he’d scour the internet for veggie recipes. The man had come through too, and in spectacular fashion: just the day before, Viking had asked Rebel if he had any extra po

Right away, Scars tensed. Crusher Alcott. Oh, shit. If Scars had to make a list of people he was thrilled to never have to be in contact with again since Wolf had pulled the plug on the Jensen work, Alcott would go to place number one, with a rocket. Known for his fondness for crushing grown men’s windpipes with his bare hands, Crusher Alcott was a living nightmare, even in the one-percenter world, and Wolf and Scars had both been relieved to be away from him.Except maybe not, because here Crusher was, back as a topic for discussion, for some ungodly reason. Scars flashed back to his conversation with Sam, when his brother had said that maybe it was impossible to get away from his old, criminal life, no matter how hard he tried, or how well-intentioned Wolf was. The resurrection of Crusher Alcott, no matter how brief or small, showed Scars how right Sam was about the past refusing to stay dead and buried.Jesus Christ. Just let me get away from the darkness and the monsters. Please.

Scars and Wolf left the clubhouse, barely glancing at their former brothers who were standing around, but their every sense, every nerve-ending, every fibre were all straining, prickling, alert and pumped to the max full of adrenalin. If they heard so much as a ‘click’ – even if it turned out to be a goddamn pen – they’d pull first and ask questions later.Nothing happened, though, and they hit the parking lot without an issue. They got on their bikes without a word, peeled out and away. Scars knew that Wolf had plenty to say, though, and so he wasn’t surprised when Wolf pulled over at Dangerous Curves, killed the engine.Scars parked next to his Prez, removed his helmet. “You need a beer, man?”“Nah.” Wolf shook his head, flattened his hair. “Just wanted a second to talk to you before we head back.”“OK.” Scars leaned back, his weight braced on his long, strong, jeaned legs, crossed his massive arms. “Shoot.”“First, thanks for havin’ my six in there. For a second, I thought it might