Page 4 of Scythe’s Salvation (Imperial Knights MC: Roanoke, VA #2)

CHAPTER

THREE

Scythe

“Glad you’re going in,” Cuda says as we sit in the breakroom going over our schedule for the week. We hired everyone we needed and so far, everyone’s working out well, which is good because I’ve had to back off quite a bit.

Seems I’m a stubborn asshole who thought the aches and pains would work themselves out. Newsflash—they’ve only gotten worse, to the point that I’m calling for breaks during longer pieces because my shoulder starts throbbing in time with the gun.

“Yeah, me too,” I reply. “Looks like we’re staying pretty busy,” I murmur, as I gaze at the spreadsheet.

“I’m fucking impressed, to be honest. We’ve had a few calls from some other clubs who’ve seen our work wanting appointments. How do you feel about that?” he asks.

Since we’re partners, we go over the main shit, then have a staff meeting to cover anything the rest of our employees need to know.

The systems that Hawg, Beast, and Selah put in place are easy as hell to use, and it enables us to input client payments without any issues.

Each artist sets their own prices based on the size of the piece, while flash art is a set price, as are piercings.

They’re logged into the system accordingly, including tips that are put on credit cards, and then Hawg handles payroll for the whole shop, with the artist getting one hundred percent of their tip.

Most of our business is cash, which is nice, of course, but many citizens use plastic these days.

I don’t care who does what as long as our employees get a check every week, and money goes into our respective club coffers.

Brick and Dragon talked and came up with a plan to handle money distribution to the brothers.

Each of the businesses contributes a percentage of their monthly profits then it’s divided according to a brother’s position within the club.

Officers get a bigger slice of the pie, but even prospects get something.

“You’re kidding right?” I reply. “I mean, we probably need to have Selah add that while colors are okay in the shop, we won’t tolerate disrespect between clubs.

Any club that tries to start shit will be banned for life, all members, regardless of who starts it.

We want to be known for our work, brother, not brawls. ”

“I agree. I think we also need to put it on the signage out front as well. I have no problem laying ink on biker from another club at all, as long as they respect the fact that what we say goes, regardless of who the fuck they are,” Cuda says.

“Could really have us making bank before we thought we would, too.”

“We gave ourselves a year, but the numbers that Selah pulled show us already paying off the equipment costs, as well as the inventory, brother,” I murmur, whistling. “Fuck, we’re already in the black? How did I not realize that?”

“Maybe because we’ve both had our heads down and our guns in our hands?” he teases. “Seriously, though, we seldom have any downtime since we opened the doors. Not only that, but while we have had walk-ins wanting flash art, most of the pieces we’ve all done have been fairly large, and those cost.”

“True enough,” I reply. “Okay, so when the rest of the crew shows up, let’s go over what we’re going to add as far as bikers from other clubs coming in, and get their opinion on whether or not we should consider adding another artist. We have the room ready, just need a qualified body.”

“Works for me. Did Chloe put in the inventory order?” he asks.

“Yeah, should arrive later today. I’ll have her log it in and put it up between clients coming in.”

“She’s a helluva worker. Wish she was willing to learn to tat, that would solve the problem of the extra artist,” he says. “Because we already know she’s got a great work ethic. So do Anson, Gordy, and Bruce.”

I nod because the four people we hired are freaking awesome.

Chloe usually comes in early enough to get a pot of coffee going, while the guys all take turns hitting up the bakery for a box of pastries to share among all of us.

Cuda and I usually cater in lunch on Saturdays, then whatever’s left, Chloe takes home since she’s a single mom.

“Maybe we should ask her, brother,” I reply. “Easier to hire a receptionist than to go through the hell we went through getting good artists and piercers.”

Thank the Maker that the guys under Dragon have the abilities they do, because we avoided making a few mistakes.

On paper, the candidates looked great. But one was a pedophile, which Selah may or may not have anonymously reported when she and Hawg found some outstanding warrants, and another applicant was an abuser.

Neither are things we’re down with, so I’m glad we found out sooner rather than later.

“Remember we had two other candidates that we told we’d consider if a chair opened up,” I advise. “Chloe would have to apprentice and all that bullshit, so we might need to get one of them in the meantime. We have room to grow, Cuda, which would be good for business.”

“True, true. Okay, they’ll be coming in any minute now, anything else you can think of?”

“No, but if something comes up, we can always discuss it at the clubhouse,” I remind him.

“Agreed.”

By the time I get to Healing Hands, my shoulder, neck, and back are throbbing.

Riding my girl, which usually brings me a lot of joy, makes me wish I had my cage today as the steady thrum of the engine jostles me even more.

Walking into the suite, I see the clipboard that Tamara mentioned and once I pick it up, I sit down and start filling it out.

“Fuck, I hate paperwork,” I grumble as I move on to the second page.

This one has me snorting because it’s two pictures, front and back, of a human body.

The instructions say to mark the areas that are causing pain.

“Shit, I have a lot of places that hurt,” I muse once I see all the ‘X’ marks I’ve left.

I’m so engrossed in what I’m doing, I don’t hear the other client leave, but I definitely notice a shift in the room’s atmosphere just as I hear, “Hopefully, I’ll be able to help you with those.

” Glancing up, I see an absolutely gorgeous woman with tawny colored hair, at least that’s what I think it’s called.

It’s got brown, a bit of dark red, and also some blonde in it.

Her eyes are hazel, and her curves are the kind that cause men to go to war.

Full breasts, hips, and thighs; just the way I like my women. Gotta have something to hold onto when I’m fucking them from behind, after all.

Wait a damn minute, she’s your massage therapist, not an easy lay! I admonish myself as I hand over the clipboard and pray that my dick isn’t making himself known.

“I’m Scythe,” I say, holding out my hand.

“Tamara,” she replies, taking it and giving it a quick, efficient shake while looking through the paperwork. “You fell off a ladder, huh?” she asks as she turns toward a room with an open door. “Oh, follow me, please.”

I smirk as I watch her walk away from me, admiring the natural sway of her hips.

Yeah, under other circumstances, I’d love to take a ride in that swing.

When I walk into the room, I see the table, notice the soft lighting, and smell something that has me instantly relaxing.

“What do you need me to do?” I query. “And yes, my dumb ass lost my balance and I fell off a ladder while putting up shelving at the shop.”

“Okay, well, I’ll step out of the room to allow you to undress. You can strip down completely, or leave your briefs on, whichever is more comfortable for you. Only the area I’m working on will be uncovered so it’s not like you’ll be lying on the table nude.”

I chuckle then nearly burst into full laughter when I see red tinging her cheeks. “Do you have to go through that spiel often?”

“Every time I get a new client,” she admits. “Just adding, there are no ‘happy endings’ given here.”

“Noted.”

“I’ll knock on the door in a few minutes. Let’s start with you face down. Your head will go on this pillow right here,” she says, pointing to an egg-shaped spot at the top of the table. “Pull the sheet up so you’re covered from the waist down.”

“Got it. See you in a few.”

“Fucking hell,” I shout as Tamara finds one of the knots that’s been plaguing me since I fell.

“What are you using, one of those meat mallets or something?” Several other areas have hurt, but this is the worst one by far.

I was actually almost in a doze even though there were aching, painful places that she probed, rubbed, and kneaded.

She giggles but her hands never stop moving. “Nope. I was using my elbow to try and bring that knot to a pressure point area so I can work it out. If I work too deep, let me know.”

“I mean, yes, it hurts, but I also felt it give, if that makes sense.”

“It does to me. Now, I’ll say this much, Scythe, you’re going to want to drink a lot of water today and tomorrow to flush out all the toxins the massage has set loose in your body.

Also, the areas I worked today will probably be tender for the next few days, and the last two may even lightly bruise.

Use ice for the first twenty- four hours, then switch over to heat.

What I’m going to work into your skin now is some topical pain oil that many of my chronic pain clients swear by, which will hopefully give you even more relief. ”

I sigh as she starts rubbing the other lotion in.

Hell, it could be a cream for all I know; I’m definitely not savvy about this shit.

But as long as she fixes me so I can work without pain, I’m good.

It has a crisp, menthol smell and I can feel the heat as she works it into my muscles.

My poor dick, which has been hard most of the time, can’t wait until we get back to the clubhouse so I can rub one out.

Thankfully, she’s a professional and aside from a slight blush on her face, she never said a word when she had me flip to my back.

Because that bastard was loud and proud and in her face underneath the sheet, that’s for damn sure.

I guess it’s because it’s been a bit since I got laid.

I expect any female’s hands on my body would elicit the same result.

“All done, how are you feeling, Scythe?” she softly asks.

“Pretty damn good,” I mumble, still in that drowsy haze her hands put me in.

“Great. Okay, I’m going to step out to allow you to get dressed. Take your time getting up since you might be slightly dizzy. There’s bottled water on top of the counter or if you prefer it cold, in the mini fridge directly beneath. I’ll see you out front.”

“Thanks, Tamara.”

“You’re welcome.”

It doesn’t take me too long to get dressed, although she was correct about one thing, I was definitely a bit wobbly when I first got up.

I quickly chug one bottle of water, then grab another one to take with me.

Stepping into the front office, I see her texting someone until she hears me and my clodhopper feet coming toward her.

“Okay for me to take one for the road?” I question, raising the bottle of water in my hand. “I practically inhaled the first bottle.”

“Not a problem. Did you want to schedule another appointment?” she asks as she takes the cash I’m holding out to her. “Scythe, this is more than we discussed,” she states, trying to hand me some of the money back.

“Fuck, Tamara, I don’t care if it’s more than you told me it would be.

It’s worth it to me because this is the first time in quite a while that I’m not actively hurting when I walk.

Besides, I understand from Roxy you’ve got a little guy who’s playing baseball and those cleats aren’t cheap.

Put it toward those if you want. And yes, I want to schedule another appointment. ”

Every day, every night. I just want your hands on me.