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- Herausgeber: Tektime
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Sadist had made a commitment, one that didn't include a woman, at least not one of his own, but was it possible he could have more?
Sadist had lived the last ten years with one goal in mind. To make this world safer for people like his family. He lived to protect his fellow Demented Souls, his club brothers. That didn't leave room for the softer parts of life like a wife or family. He didn't know if he could share the secret that kept his brothers alive. But who would be willing to let him keep those secrets from them?
Beth was just trying to get through a rough spot. Between work and helping her parents, she was getting by but that was all. Then a tall, tattooed man walked in to her salon for a haircut. The last thing she expected was for the man who made her stomach flip to be interested in her. Until he came back and asked her out.
Can Beth and Sadist figure out how to make things work or will the secrets and misunderstandings be too much?
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Seitenzahl: 311
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Sadist
Melissa Stevens
Copyright © [Year of First Publication] by [Author or Pen Name]
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
This Demented Souls book, like all of the Souls books, is dedicated to my dad, Wilmer ‘Billy’ Stephens.
When I started the series, I used him as a major resource, as he’d been a police officer, machinist, gun smith, Harley rider, mechanic and so much more.
Now that he’s gone, I write them in his memory.
Contents
1
Sadist sat at a small table in the main room of the Demented Souls clubhouse. The room was half full of his club-brothers, men he felt closer to than his own blood brother. Tuck sat across from him, but others had come and gone. It had been an evening of bullshit, laughter and a little whiskey, at least until Ruger put an end to it. His best friend had announced he was going up to his room. To Krissi.
It had taken Sadist a long time to understand how his best friend could trust the woman. Not only because of who she was, the daughter of one of their arch enemies, but because of the risk. It had taken Sadist even longer to trust her than most of the brothers. Possibly because of his own issues with people he’d trusted in the past.
The risk wasn’t just to Ruger. For any of the brothers to get involved with anyone outside the club was a massive risk for all the Souls. Every person let in on their secret was a potential leak. Someone who could turn on them and get them all killed.
There was a reason having no close family ties was a requirement to get into the club. It meant no one to have to lie to. No one to protect but your brothers. No one to be used against you. No one to come asking questions.
Out of habit, Sadist scanned the room. He frowned and shook his head as he spotted the goofy grin on Ruger’s face as he climbed the stairs to the room he kept at the clubhouse, where Krissi waited. He’d watched several of the brothers try to have wives and families. It almost never worked.
Women who could handle what they did were rare. Few were willing to put up with the secrets, the danger and the deceptions. He’d decided a long time ago, it was better to stick with the women who hung around for the allure of the bikes and danger but knew nothing of what went on behind the scenes. Sadist was careful to never get too close, to never spend too much time with any one of the girls and never, ever play favorites. Some of the worst fights he’d seen ever had been between a pair of the sluts who hung around the club and one thought the other was moving in on their man.
“What’s wrong with you?”
The question made Sadist turn back to Tuck.
“I’ve watched it over and over. Brothers try for a picket fence and two point three kids and it never works. I don’t know why they don’t just give it up.”
Tuck glanced away then back to Sadist.
“I don’t know, man. I wasn’t looking for normal when I met Brenda, I was looking to get laid. I can’t explain it. Things went right then things went wrong. But when it was right, it was beyond anything you could imagine. I wouldn’t trade Johnny or Amanda for the world.”
“But instead of a full-time dad, they get you what? Every other weekend?”
“About that. You know I’d kill for them, though, just like I would for any of you. Maybe faster. You having second thoughts about the life?” Tuck lifted one brow.
“Fuck no. I’m not having second thoughts about anything. I just don’t see how these guys can keep making the same mistakes over and over, as if something is going to change.”
“It might with the right woman. Ruger and Krissi are what, over a year in and still happy? Besides, what man doesn’t think he knows something no one else does? That they can make it work when someone else couldn’t?”
Sadist just shook his head. “I know something they don’t all right. Don’t bother.”
Tuck gave a low chuckle. “See you’re not all that different from them, they just have different hopes.”
“Hope is for fools. Reality is, our life is too hard for something soft like a family.” Sadist stared at last half inch of whiskey in the glass he had one hand wrapped around. He’d been sipping this one drink for thirty minutes, it was time for another. He threw back the last of the amber liquid, savored the burn as it slid down his throat, and poured himself another from the bottle of Jack sitting on the table. “With our lives, it’s best to stick with easy pussy. The kind that doesn’t expect a ring or promises and doesn’t need to know where you are or when you’ll be home.”
“I enjoy a good fuck as much as the next guy. But I gotta tell you man, there’s something different about it when you care about the woman and she cares about you. Something that can’t be duplicated with a whore or just any piece of ass. I kind of hope you figure that out some day.”
“What did I do to piss you off?” Sadist cocked one brow at his president.
“What do you mean?”
“I just told you I want no part of love, a woman, kids, anyone who expects to know my every move, and here you go wishing that shit on me.”
“It’s not because you pissed me off, brother. I said it because you need it.” With that, Tuck stood, pushing his chair back as he went. “I’ll leave you to your misery. I’m going to make the rounds then call it a night.”
“I’m going to sit right here a while. Maybe take Linda or Double D with me when I crash.”
“You do that.” Tuck walked away.
Sadist watched as the president circled the room, checking with each of the brothers and making one last stop to talk to the prospect behind the bar, before he climbed the stairs and disappeared into the room, he called his.
Sadist downed the drink he’d just poured in one long drink, sat back and surveyed the room. Amber sat on Crash’s lap in the corner under the TV where a rerun of some football game played. They were so engrossed in each other, it was like no one else was in the room. Jailbait sat at the bar, watching Dumbass with hungry eyes. Linda danced around the pole on a small stage on the other side of the room, wearing only a G-string while a couple of the older brothers watched and made suggestions. Double D went from man to man around the room, trying to get someone to pay attention to her and buy her a drink. He didn’t do anything to catch her attention, she’d probably make her way around to him, unless one of the other brothers took her up on her offer. That was soon enough. He poured another drink and settled in to wait.
With a grunt, Sadist clenched one hand around Double D’s hip while the other clamped down on her naked tit as he came. He jerked several times as he finished emptying himself into the condom he never went without, then pulled out and fell back against the bed.
“Out,” he growled. He was done and ready to sleep. No one spent the night with him. Ever. It was one of his rules. Sleeping in his bed made them think they had a claim on him. Double D rolled off the bed and picked up her clothes.
“I could keep you warm tonight.” She looked him up and down with eyes clouded from alcohol and pleasure.
“No need.” Sadist removed the condom and dropped it in the trash can next to the bed.
“You sure?”
He looked up at her, meeting her gaze with a steely look. She finished dressing and let herself out without another word. This was going to have to be the last time with her for a while. She was getting entirely too pushy and he needed to show her she meant nothing. She was only a convenient piece of ass when he wanted to get off. The door clicked shut. Sadist groaned and pushed himself to his feet. Locking the door on his way by, he used the attached bathroom. He trusted his brothers not to come in while he slept, but not the women who hung around the club. He never slept without his door locked anymore. All it had taken was waking up once to find Linda passed out in the bed beside him.
He shuffled back to the bed, fell across it, face down in the pillow and went to sleep.
Thunder woke him. It wasn’t until he sat up that he realized it wasn’t a storm but someone pounding on the metal door to his room that woke him. Stepping into his jeans he went to the door. He yanked them over his ass, not bothering with the button before unlocking and throwing the door open.
“What is it?” Sadist scowled at Gizmo, who had his hand raised to pound on the door again.
“Meeting. Downstairs. Now.” Gizmo took off toward the stairs leading down to the main room before Sadist could ask anything more. If Tuck had ordered them to wake him, and Tuck was the only one with the authority, then he should hurry. He snagged a shirt off a hook, not the one he’d been wearing earlier, that was on the floor somewhere, checked his pocket for his keys and locked the door before stepping out into the hall. He buttoned his jeans and headed for the stairs himself, pulling the shirt on as he made his way down them. It wasn’t until he reached the ground floor and his feet hit the cool cement slab that he realized he was barefoot. Too fucking bad. They woke him, this was how they got him. If he needed his boots, he’d grab them after. The door to the backroom where meetings were held was open, Dumbass standing guard next to it to keep anyone who didn’t belong out. Sadist nodded at the prospect as he passed him and made his way to his chair near the head of the table. The chair beside his, Tuck’s chair, was empty.
He glanced around, wondering what was up and taking in who was present. It was a mixed bunch, with not quite half the voting membership present. Other than Tuck there was only one conspicuous absence, Ruger. Tuck came in, nodding to Dumbass on his way by, and took his seat. Dumbass closed the door, leaving himself on the other side. Tuck looked to Gizmo who got up and turned the deadbolt on the door.
The president cleared his throat and the low chatter around the room died as they all turned their attention to Tuck. Sadist looked at the empty chair on the other side of his own, then to Tuck. The Prez nodded once but looked to the rest of the table. Sadist knew he’d have a chance to talk to their leader later, so he let it go.
“We’ve had an issue come up.” Tuck looked around the table, making sure each of the men was paying attention. “You may or may not be aware that Lurch, Mac and Watt were dealing with a package tonight.” He paused. Several heads nodded around the table. Whether they knew what had been going down or not, they all knew what he meant. “Watt, brief the room.”
Watt stood and glanced around the room at their brothers. “We were picking up the package, well packages, and taking them to the safe house. I thought I recognized one. I wasn’t sure so I nudged Lurch and told him to take a look, he saw it too. We secured them then double checked and sure enough. One of the packages is on the watch list.”
“Shit,” Kinard, the club medic, muttered, shaking his head. “Where from?”
“One of the ‘stans. I don’t remember which one.”
“You recall his name?”
Watt shook his head. “He’s relatively new to the list, so no. If he was one we’ve been watching for a while I could tell you.”
They discussed options for a while, then settled on keeping a guard on the packages and keeping them on lock down for the time being, while they reached out to see how this should be handled. It wasn’t entirely out of protocol, the usually locked down shipments for a period of time, and guarded them, but given who they had, they decided to double the guard, just to be safe, while they waited.
Tuck called an end to the meeting, Gizmo unlocked the door and the brothers started to trickle out. Sadist turned to Tuck.
“Why wasn’t Ruger here?” He watched the president with narrowed eyes. His buddy had been in the room a couple doors down and Sadist wanted to know why he’d been deliberately left out of the loop.
Tuck pulled out he silver dollar he kept in the small front pocket on his kutte and flipped it over the backs of his fingers as he watched Sadist a moment. “I considered calling him in. But he’s still recovering from being stabbed. I’ll give him a few more days to take it easy, before I give him something else to worry about.”
“It wasn’t because you suspect him of anything or that you don’t trust him?” Those were the only reasons Sadist had been able to come up with not to include Ruger, especially when they’d taken the time to wake Sadist.
“Neither of those. I’m getting used to Krissi trying to help, but I’m not ready to let her in on all our secrets. Not yet. After a year I trust her, mostly. But it’s a lot and it’s all our lives on the line if we trust the wrong person.”
Sadist nodded slowly. He felt the same way. He liked Krissi. She’d sided with the Souls in every issue that had come up. Even against her father. That didn’t mean he was ready to let her in on every detail of the club’s business. She already knew much, but some part of him, probably a paranoid part, hesitated to tell her everything when she had nothing at risk. Well, other than her man. A small smile curved his lips as he remembered the sass she’d given him and Ruger, when Sadist had flirted with her early on. She knew how to handle a bunch of loud, obnoxious, and often crude bikers, he had to give her that. She hadn’t flinched away when their business had gotten her hurt. Nor had she gone running to daddy. That earned her points. The way she’d taken it when Ruger had been hurt? That helped too. She hadn’t freaked out and instead went back to tending bar, keeping up appearances while Sadist and Tuck had made sure her man was taken care of.
Satisfied with Tuck’s answer, Sadist stood.
“If that’s all, I’m going back to bed.” He waited for some kind of response from the president and when Tuck gave him a slow, absent nod, he headed for the door. Sadist stopped at the base of the stairs, looked over toward the bar and contemplated a drink before going back to bed.
No need.
He took the stairs two at a time, let himself into his room and fell back across the bed. It took him longer to fall asleep this time but not by much.
Sadist pulled his bike into the narrow alley of his shop, eased it up against the building where it wouldn’t get hit or be in the way, and killed the engine. After being woken in the middle of the night, he’d not slept well, and he’d had a rough time getting started this morning. He shook his head, climbed off, and hung his helmet on the handlebars before letting himself in the rear door.
“Morning, boss.” Steph, his receptionist, greeted him as he stepped in the door. He growled and headed for the break room. In the small kitchen they used as a breakroom he shrugged off his kutte and hung it on the hook reserved for it, opened the fridge and grabbed an AMP without bothering to look at the flavor. After popping the top, he tipped it back and took a long drink then stood still for several seconds while he waited for the sugar and caffeine to hit his system. Taking the can with him, he went to the front desk.
“What do we have today?”
“You’ve got an appointment this afternoon for a back piece, but you’re open until three. However, I’ve had three calls about piercings in the fifteen minutes since I got in, so who knows if anyone will show up.”
“All right, what’s the back piece? Someone I know or a newbie?”
Steph checked the schedule and shot Sadist a narrow-eyed look. “It says Lurch. Is this a joke?”
“No, Lurch is one of my brothers. I know what he wants.” Steph had only been around for a couple weeks, and while she was doing a great job, she’d not met many of the Demented Souls yet.
Sadist took another long pull from his Amp. “Let me know if anyone comes in. I’m going to draw something up for Lurch.”
“Will do, boss.” She turned back to the counter where she had a deck of cards dealt into a game of solitaire.
Sadist left her and took his sketch pad into the break room. He sat at the table and worked on an idea he’d been putting together in his head since talking to Lurch. His brother wanted an eagle holding the club colors in his claws and Sadist was going to do his best to give him something amazing. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there when Steph’s voice pulled him out of his head.
Sadist blinked then looked up. “Yes?”
“Your appointment is here.”
“Lurch?” Shit, was it that late already? He glanced at the clock on the wall and found it was indeed.
“That’s what he says.”
“Send him on back.”
“Will do.” She disappeared into the front of the shop and after a moment the slender man he’d last seen around the meeting table twelve hours earlier appeared.
“Hey, how you doing?” Lurch asked.
“Good.” Sadist stood and gave the man a one-armed-hug. “I’m glad you finally made it in to let me work on you. Come take a look at this.” He showed Lurch what he’d drawn up, an eagle mid-flight, with a patch that matched the one on their kuttes clutched in his claws.
“Wow. That looks great. Better than I imagined.” Lurch looked up from the sketch pad. “You think you can put that on my back?”
“If I can draw it here, I can put it there.” He tapped the sketchbook with one hand, then pointed to Lurch. “Come, on, let’s get started.” Sadist took Lurch and the sketch into the other room for the first of several sessions. “Now you get to see where I got my name.”
“I’ve seen enough of your work to understand it.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t seen me work.”
Lurch blinked and took off his kutte, then pulled the white t-shirt he wore under it off over his head.
“That’s about to change.”
2
Beth’s heart raced as a tattooed man in a black leather vest came into the little hair salon where she worked. He smiled at Jasmine at the front counter and Beth’s stomach somersaulted. The deep rumble of his voice as he asked for a cut made Beth want to close her eyes and let the sound wash over her. Instead she finished sweeping up the hair from her last client and cleaning her chair while doing her best to keep how much is voice affected her from showing. When she was done, Beth went up to the reception desk.
“Who’s next?” Beth looked down at the book in front of Jasmine. Something was off, it said Sadist. She had to be reading that wrong.
“He is.” Jasmine nodded in the tattooed man’s direction. “His name is Sadist.”
Beth blinked. Who on earth would name their child something like that? She pasted a smile on and looked up. Maybe the name was a prank, but on whom?
“Sadist?”
He looked up from the magazine in his lap, met her gaze and smiled. “Yes?”
“Right this way.” Beth waited while he stood, then led him to her chair. “What are you looking for today?”
“Mostly a trim.”
His hair was cut in what she thought of as a viking mohawk. Partly because of a cable series she’d been watching recently. The sides were buzzed almost like a military high and tight, but the top was long enough it hung to his shoulders.
“The sides are getting a little long and you might need to take some off the ends, too.” He ran one hand through the length.
“All right.” She covered him with a cape and turned the chair until they both faced the mirror, her behind him. “Are you looking for a shave or trim on your beard too?”
He raked his hands through his facial hair and looked like he was considering it. “Sure, why not trim this too.” He smoothed his hand over the beard., then tucked it back under the drape.
She ran her hands through his hair, asking questions so she could be sure exactly what he wanted before she started cutting, then picked up her comb and a couple of clips to get started.
“Is your name really Sadist or were you messing with us?” She was used to making small talk with her clients. It helped pass the time and made the fact she was touching them seem a little less awkward.
“My name is really Sadist.”
“It’s an odd name.” She smiled at his reflection as she worked, hoping he wouldn’t be insulted by her comment.
“It is, but it’s what my brothers call me.”
“I like your artwork.” She knew she was babbling, but it was expected. “I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo, but I can’t decide what I want.” She worked a while longer. “I really like this piece.” She brushed her fingers over the flames that licked up the back of his neck. “Do you mind my asking who did it? I really like the style.”
“I don’t mind, but it won’t do a lot of good. He’s gone.”
The back of her neck itched, she glanced in the mirror to find him watching her and quickly looked away.
“What kind of piece you thinking of getting?” His smoky voice seemed to touch something deep inside her.
“I really don’t know. I was thinking maybe something with a pair of scissors or a straight razor, but I haven’t found anything that speaks to me.”
“I take it you like what you do?”
“I do.” She paused, thinking about it for a minute. “I had other options, jobs that make better money. My parents pushed me to go to college and find a better career, but I love what I do.” She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as she realized how much she really did love cutting, coloring, and styling hair. Helping people find a look they loved made her happy.
His eyes narrowed and Beth couldn’t help but notice him watching her, an unfamiliar look in his eyes, as she finished his hair. When she was done, he ran his hands through his hair, flipping the top from one side to the other as he looked it over, then ran his hands along his newly smooth cheeks and nodded. He waited while she removed the cape, then stood and smiled at her.
“Thanks, what’s your name again?”
“Beth.”
“Thank you, Beth, you did a good job.”
She walked him to the counter and while Jasmine helped him, she cleaned up her space for the next client. Oddly, she couldn’t help but think about him, wondering what he’d been thinking as he watched her.
3
After his hair cut, Sadist stopped back by the clubhouse. He needed to shower. It was odd, and he wasn’t sure if it was real or imagined, but after a haircut he itched until he showered. He suspected it was the fine bits of hair that couldn’t be avoided entirely, even with the big cape they wrapped around you, but who knew?
He stepped inside the door and stopped to let his eyes adjust. Once he could see, he scanned the room, noting who was there and what was going on before climbing the stairs to his room. After his shower, dressed in hair-free clothes, he went back down to the main room where Dumbass was restocking the cooler behind the bar. Sadist stepped behind the bar and helped himself to a soda before joining Tuck at one of the tables.
“What’s up?” Sadist asked as he pulled out a chair and sat.
“Working on the details for our next run and waiting for info back on our package. You?”
“On my way to the shop.” He lifted the can and took a drink. “With things still up in the air about so many things, that package being one of them, I thought I’d check in, see if anything needed my attention.”
“I’ve got it covered for now, but there’s a meeting tonight.”
“Eleven, right?” Sadist waited for Tuck’s nod. “I’ll be over as soon as I close the shop. Should give us enough time to make sure everything’s ready before we close the doors.” The Demented Souls had to be extremely careful about what was said in the open, even inside the clubhouse. They could never be sure who might be listening. The prospect wasn’t a worry, but the fender fluff and the whores that hung around were another matter.
Tuck nodded again. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”
“I’ll be around.”
Sadist stood, looked around to be sure there wasn’t anyone else he needed to talk to before he headed out. He turned back and caught Tuck’s eye.
“What?”
“Have Gizmo sweep before the meeting.”
Tuck nodded and they both knew they weren’t talking about the floor. No. Tuck would have the club’s tech sergeant sweep for bugs, for listening devices or tiny video cameras before they closed the door to discuss sensitive club business. Hinges screamed as a door opened above him and he looked up. Krissi, his best friend Ruger’s girl, stepped out of the room she shared with Ruger, at least when they were at the clubhouse for the last year, and glanced around. She wore a pair of loose sweatpants and a shirt she’d obviously taken from Ruger’s closet. It was just snug enough for Sadist to know she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her face was drawn, and dark shadows stood out under her eyes. It looked like she’d slept even worse than he had. She started down the stairs, taking them one at a time. He watched until she reached the bottom and went to the bar then joined her.
“How you doing?” he asked as he slid onto the stool beside her.
Krissi glanced at him from the corner of her eye but didn’t turn to look at him. “I’m all right.” She watched Dumbass as she waited for him to notice her, her hands twisting together in her lap. “I’m all right.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m all right.” Krissi shot him another look he didn’t know how to interpret. The same three words, three times in such quick succession though? That sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as anyone else.
“How’s Ruger?”
“He’s asleep, again.” She took a deep breath. “Kinard gave him something stronger a couple days ago. It lets him sleep but he hates to take it.” Krissi shook her head. “I’ve tried to get him to go home but he flat refuses the meds there. He’ll only take them here, where he’s got brothers to watch his back.” Sadist couldn’t blame him on that one. Ruger was still recovering from being stabbed in the back with some kind of glass. Ruger hadn’t seen who had stabbed him, but the top suspect was that Krissi’s father was trying to send some kind of message.
Sadist couldn’t imagine someone doing this to a member of their family, but from what Ruger had told him, Krissi was used to it. Her father was one mean son of a bitch and he hadn’t bothered to hide it from his family.
Dumbass finally noticed her and came over.
“Whatcha need?” the prospect glanced down the bar to where Jailbait sat with a bottle of water in front of her.
“Can I get a burger and a Pepsi?” Krissi ignored the roaming eyes.
“You want fries too?”
“Sure, why not.”
“Coming right up.” The prospect disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the door swinging behind him.
Coming back through the same door, Dumbass poured the soda Krissi had asked for and set it on the bar in front of her. “Your food will be out in a few minutes.”
“Thanks.” She took a sip and closed her eyes.
It wasn’t hard for Sadist to see what his best friend saw in her, but Sadist wasn’t sure she was worth the trouble in either Ruger’s life or the club. Switchblade was not someone they wanted watching them too closely.
Sadist talked with her a little while longer, trying to make her feel a little more comfortable while simultaneously trying to make sure Ruger wasn’t worse than they’d thought. After Dumbass delivered her food, Sadist said goodbye and headed for the shop.
On the ride, the girl from the salon snuck into his mind. Her words about scissors and a straight razor kept echoing in his mind.
Business was slow at The Sadist Den. Sadist usually stayed pretty busy, but today had been blocked off for several hours with one client who had called the day before to reschedule, so Sadist hung around in case of a walk in, for either a tat or a piercing, but no one came in. Normally, he hated the slow days but today he was playing with a design he couldn’t get out of his head. Something a little different.
He tried several ideas, ending up with three different sketches he was happy with. A quick check of the clock told him it was just past two, hopefully she was still there. Stacking the pages, he stood and took his kutte from the hook in the breakroom. Once it was on, he tucked the sketches in the inside pocket then headed for the front door.
“I’m going to lunch, if someone comes in or calls, I’ll be back about four. You can reach me on my cell if you need me.”
“Yes, sir.” Steph’s voice chased him as he stepped out the door.
On his bike, he directed it toward the salon he’d left several hours earlier and twisted the throttle. When he got there, he parked the bike, climbed off and went inside before he could have second thoughts. Sadist was relieved to find Beth at the front desk, neither gone nor busy.
“Hey.” A smile spread across her face. “You’re back way too soon for another cut. Is everything okay?”
“Hey,” he said back. “No, everything’s fine.” He ran one hand along his trimmed beard. “I wanted to show you something.” Sadist pulled the folded sketches from his pocket and laid them on the counter. “Something you said earlier struck a note. I couldn’t get it out if my mind.” He unfolded the pages and laid them flat as she stood to get a better look.
“What are these?” She picked one up and took a closer look. “Where did these come from?” Beth picked up a second and examined it a moment before looking up at him, a confused crease between her brows.
“I drew them. Do you like them?”
She looked back down at the three pages. “I do, but why?”
Sadist shrugged. “Why not? I had time and the idea just hit me.” What he didn’t want to say was something in her face, in her eyes had caught his attention and had made him want to see it again. He had been right. When she saw what he’d drawn, there it was. Totally worth it.
She kept moving between the three sketches, but he could tell, there was one she liked more than the others, it didn’t get put down as she picked up the others and compared them.
“You drew these?” She looked up again. “Just from what I said?”
Sadist nodded. “I did.” He watched her and his next words were out before he realized he was going to say them. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out with me?”
Beth looked up, eyes wide. “I-I don’t know.”
“I’m busy tonight, but how about tomorrow? I can do lunch or dinner, either one.”
She looked down, her face turning a bright pink he thought was cute.
“That is, if you’re not already attached.”
“No, I’m not attached.” She was quiet a moment. “I’m working during the day tomorrow, but I can go to dinner.”
“Great.” He flashed her his best smile and pulled a card for the Sadist Den from his wallet. After taking a moment to write his cell phone number on the back, he handed it to her. “Here’s my number, call or text with where I can pick you up. Is six good for you?”
“Six sounds great.” She looked down at the sketches. “Can I keep these?”
“Sure, that’s why I brought them.”
“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“You will, just let me know where.” He motioned to the card on the table in front of her, turned and left the little salon. He couldn’t help but grin, even though he knew it was the same look he’d been giving Ruger shit over for the last year.
4
The tall tattooed man who called himself Sadist left the salon for the second time the same day and Beth watched him leave, a little stunned by what had just happened. This morning had been normal enough. She had chatted with him, made him feel at ease as she had helped him, then he’d left. Nothing remarkable, except the way he’d made her stomach flip-flop and her heart race. Her next client had come in and she’d moved on, wondering if Sadist would ever be back. He’d been the last person she expected to see when he’d come in while she was taking her turn at the front desk. She’d panicked for a moment wondering if she’d screwed up his cut.
“What was that?” Sierra, another stylist asked after a moment.
“Someone I did a cut for this morning.” Beth blinked, remembered the card he’d given her and looked down.
“Was he unhappy with his hair?” Sierra frowned.
“If he was, he didn’t say so.” It was glossy card with the words The Sadist Den written across it in what looked like neon lighting. There was an address and a phone number as well.
“Then what did he want?”
“He brought me some drawings and he asked me out.”
“Drawings?” Sierra moved closer. “Let me see.”
Beth didn’t mind letting Sierra look at the sketches, but for some reason, she didn’t want to let her handle them. Instead, she laid them on the counter. “These are what he brought. He said he drew them.”
Sierra looked down and looked them all over. “They look like they could be tattoos,” turning to look Beth in the eye. “It was Sadist wasn’t it?”
“You know him?”
