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“Did you get rid of her phone?” Landon breaks the silence.

“Yeah, I took the SIM card out and turned it off before leaving the manor. Made sure Flynn had his phone wiped, and there’s no evidence of him texting her. Raiden said he and the guys would handle it and wipe any traces of us being tracked there.”

My brother nods in response as he continues inking our new houseguest. A few more minutes pass before he leans back on the balls of his feet. I walk toward him and look over his shoulder.

Motherfucker branded her.

A smallLandHare on either side of a largerCpushed out in the middle, right on her pelvis.

Landon and Hudson Cooper.

Patting him on the shoulder, “Nice work brother. Let’s go, we got a party to get to.”

10

HUDSON

Both of us changed before driving over here, dressed in black jeans, sneakers and hoodies. Landon brought his tattoo machine and ink; some guys on the team wanted a few small things before break. Landon doesn’t even charge them. He just loves doing it. His passion is his art. Mine is the game. Hockey primarily, but the game we just started with Banksy is already a close second.

Music is pounding. People yell when we walk in, “Coopers are here!” and cheers ensue. After the brawl tonight, everyone is still pumped. Adrenaline flowing through our veins. Smiling at the crowd, I high five those I walk by, a couple hand me shots, which I slam back.

Landon can’t be bothered. He walks to where he normally chills during these things, in the backroom. It’s quieter there with booze and drugs and a few of the guys who also can’t stand the crowds. I’ll party with my fans for a bit before heading back there to join them.

LANDON

My hood is on,with some of my hair hanging over my forehead. I have my machine set up and Smiley is sitting in front of me on the couch. He wants something to commemorate this evening's events, a smiley face around his nipple. His nipple will act like the nose. To each their own, who am I to judge?

“Bro, shirt up.” I instruct him. He wastes no time lifting his entire shirt off, sitting back on the couch and rubbing his hands together. I should also mention, this is his first.

“Stay like that and don’t move. This will be quick, but it’s also your nipple, so not entirely painless.”

The sound of the machine buzzing fills me with satisfaction. This is my therapy.

Dipping it in ink, the needles suck it back like my brother is sucking back shots. Leaning into Smiley, I use one gloved hand, to stretch the skin, the other hand holding the machine, which I slowly move over his skin. After a quick line, I lift it up and check in with him. “You good?”

He nods in response. “Yeah, keep going.”

And I do. Carefully outlining the circle that goes around his nipple. The machine vibrates slightly in my hand. The buzzing centers my mind, tuning everything else out around me. My entire focus is on what is happening here and now with my machine, needles, ink, and art.

Grabbing more ink into the needles, I start on the eyes and mouth. All of it quick work. Easy work. But it’s my work, and it needs to be perfect.

When the last line is done, I sit back and examine my work, making sure everything is up to my standard. Which it is. The guy didn’t move once. He is one tough SOB.

“And you are done.” I tell him as I put my machine down and grab the cleaning solution and paper towel. I clean off his new addition, then finger off my gloves. He stands up, while looking down, admiring it.

“Fuck. This looks sharp. Thank you,” Smiley slaps my shoulder.

“Glad you like it, man.”

He was my last one of the evening. I did a couple other guys before Smiley. Small shit.

Cleaning up my area, I toss the needles, ink caps and other shit I’ve used tonight. Wipe off my machine and pack it up in its case.

It is perfect timing because that is when Katie walks in. And where Katie is, there are drugs.

“Landon. I heard you had your machine here. I’ll have to get one from you next time,” she says when she sees it’s been packed up already.

I just sit and look at her, waiting for what she has to offer us.