So Steady: Silver Daughters Ink, Book Two (Silver Daughters Ink Book Two) Read online

  Noah nodded, the earth shifting the way he did when he saw that red box of pencils. “I’m gonna do the patches?”

  “Yup, but you better not fuckin’ ink yourself or I’ll kick your head in. I don’t need more reasons for your mum to get the cops onto me.”

  But two days later he’d given himself a Ranger helmet on the inside of his left arm. His dad didn’t kick his head in, he gave him a beer.

  “You’re a Ranger now,” he’d said, and Noah’s dumb thirteen-year-old heart had almost burst.

  ***

  Noah woke up five minutes before his alarm went off. That was standard, as was the hard-on throbbing between his legs. The dull unease was new. Especially without an alcohol fug in his mouth or the burned taste buds that said he’d smoked a full deck the night before. For a second he lay there, unsure what his problem was. The answer came in a hot wave—Nicole on her back, around his fingers, squealing and moaning and…

  “Fuck.”

  He’d finger-fucked Nicole on his chair. His boss’ twin. His mentor’s daughter. The recently separated accountant and tightass he’d been hard for since day one. He’d told himself he’d never go there and he’d failed. Now he was due at a staff meeting with her in less than an hour. He closed his eyes against the morning light, replaying the way Nicole looked arching back into his chair, thrashing as she came. She’d been sopping wet, so small it was like she’d never been fucked before. He wrapped a palm around his throbbing dick and gave it a slow pull. She was so goddamn needy for it. Maybe she didn’t like that about herself, but she was. The things he could do to that tight little—

  “Nuh.” Noah yanked his hand away from his dick. Not happening. Didn’t happen last night, wasn’t going to happen today. He picked up his pack of Bennies and stuck one in his mouth. Not the best habit, but what was the point of owning your place if you couldn’t smoke in bed?

  He took a deep drag on his cigarette. He’d thought—hoped—some of Nicole’s appeal was the sexy librarian thing, but last night she’d been barefoot and barefaced, and he’d almost had a heart attack when she showed up to help him with the pay system. Shame he couldn’t say anything good or nice or even constructive to her. Shame he’d let her get all jealous over Daniella, enjoyed it, then made her come in his tattoo room so their situation was more fucked up than ever. His gut cramped, sending sharp pangs burrowing into his chest like eels. This dumbfuck infatuation was going to kill him. He ashed into his bedside mug and got up. He pulled on a RCVC t-shirt and jeans and headed downstairs, a fresh Benson already between his teeth. Paula was sitting at the kitchen table, her knees pulled up to her chest as she watched something on her phone. She looked a little bizarre, with her teenage body language and fiftysomething face.

  “Morning,” she said. “Coffee?”

  He shook his head. “Meeting. What are you doing today?”

  “I’ve got a bakery shift at one, Dad. I promise I won’t nick any of your smokes while you’re out. God, you don’t stop, do you?”

  It often occurred to him that Paula was the only person in the world who thought he was chatty or overprotective. That made sense, but it was still a strange thing. “I’m heading off. I’ll see you later tonight.”

  “Whatever,” she said, returning to her video. “I’m going out tomorrow night, by the way. Around seven.”

  Her high, determined tone made him turn. “Shredder?”

  “No. AA.”

  Noah took in her flush, the way her fingers twisted at her phone. “Seriously?”

  “Yes! God!”

  “Okay. I’ll see you at home at nine then.”

  She lifted her chin. “Fine.”

  “How’d you sleep?”

  Paula shrugged. “How about you?”

  He’d slept like dogshit, but he couldn’t say it without her pressing for why. “Alright. See you later.”

  Paula pointed to the leather jacket waiting on the kitchen bench. “It’s cold outside. You gonna wear it today?”

  Noah suppressed a wince. “You didn’t have to give it to me.”

  “You’ve been letting me stay with you for free, it’s the least I can do.”

  “Alright.” He walked over to the jacket and slung it on feeling like a viper trapped in another snake’s skin. Paula smiled. “It looks great. How’s it feel?”

  “Fine,” he lied. He’d take it off as soon as he could, leave it at work. It didn’t have patches or buckles, but it didn’t need them. It was a Rangers’ jacket, her ex-husband’s. Something he never wanted to wear again.

  He left praying Paula meant what she was saying about AA. He didn’t need more drama, and no one stirred up more drama than bikies.

  He set off on foot down Vandal Street, irritatingly warm and, as always, thinking about Nicole. They’d messed around now. Did that mean they were free to explore the thing between them? He doubted it. Nicole was a nester. Once the dust from her break up settled, she’d pick out pictures for Bumble or eHarmony or wherever girls like her looked for guys who weren’t him. Anyone could see Nicole DaSilva had a life template and the spot marked ‘husband’ sure as fuck wasn’t Newcomb sized.

  Husband. Noah snorted as he lit the cigarette between his teeth. He had some fucking nerve even thinking the word, considering he had no money, a criminal record and a pending vasectomy. He needed to get his head out of his ass and leave Nicole alone. She’d sort her own life out eventually, then she’d be gone. Time would sand his feelings down to nothing and in the meantime there were cigarettes, looking out for Paula, and painting. He’d buy a new canvas tonight. He’d stopped when Paula showed up and started calling him ‘Picasso,’ but who gave a shit? He needed the distraction.

  “Hey man, could I have a ciggie?”

  The asker was a scraggly guy in his twenties, no jacket despite the morning air. His old man spoke in his ear, ‘Piss off, freeloader.’

  Noah handed the guy a cigarette and his lighter.

  The guy grinned. “Thanks man. I’ll give you one someday.”

  Noah doubted it, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, not giving what you could afford to give was shitty. Edgar showed him that. In the club, anything you had was for you first, The Rangers second and no one else. But why? He wasn’t going to run out of cigarettes.

  We all belong to the world, Edgar said. And we all owe the world.

  He flicked his butt into the street bin outside Silver Daughters. Belonging to the world was one thing, belonging to people was a whole other game. He’d trusted Edgar and he liked his daughters, but he didn’t want to join another gang. He felt the way he did about Nicole, but didn’t want her turning those gorgeous, life-template eyes onto his shoddy excuse for an existence. Best case scenario, she’d ride his cock until Sam found out, or her guilt would keep her away.

  He reached Silver Daughters studio and paused, stretching out both sides of his neck, making them crack before he headed around to the DaSilva’s apartment for the meeting.

  The smell of pancakes hit him as soon as he opened the door and his stomach flipped over. Nicole was here; only she would have made pancakes. He toed off his boots, noting Gil’s flashy sneakers. Probably already pestering Nicole for sugar-free syrup. That was good. The more people, the less he’d have to talk.

  “Noelle! The Big No!” Tabby bounded toward him, her red skinny jeans and huge green hat clashing with her colourful tattoos. “I need a minute of your time, good sir.”

  Sidestepping her clearly wasn’t an option, so he allowed Tabby to lead him into the cramped laundry room and shut the door. “What’s up?”

  “Oh, you know, the sun, the Dow Jones. Cool jacket btw.”

  Fuck, he’d forgotten about the jacket. He’d shrug it off, but Tabby would read into that. “What do you want?”

  “Have you taken any steps toward fulfilling my request? Actually, false question, I know you drove Nix home after her party. Don’t ask me how I know.”

  “I wasn’t going—”

  “I tracke
d her phone. And your phone. I’m tracking both your phones. The find my friend app has unleashed a whole new world of phone tracking and I am its emperor.”

  Noah rubbed a hand over his eyes. This fucking week. These sisters. “Stop tracking my phone.”

  He moved for the door, but Tabby blocked him. “Not so fast. You and Nix haven’t smashed. Or if you did, it took all of the two seconds you were parked in our street.”

  Noah shook his head. He shouldn’t have started smoking so early, this was going to be a bitch of a morning. “Leave it, Tabby.”

  She lifted her chin. “The window’s closing.”

  He frowned, not wanting to encourage Tabby to keep talking, but needing to know what she meant.

  Tabby grinned, pleased with herself. “Nix is beginning to doubt herself. No solid moves to call off the wedding and she and Fuckface Magee were on the phone for an hour last night. No yelling either, they were actually having a conversation.”

  A hollowness entered Noah’s head. So that was how Nicole had spent her night after he’d fingered her? Talking to her ex. He’d eased her sexual pressure and she’d used her clarity of mind to reopen negotiations? Well that was just fucking fine. Not like he had any claim. Not like he wasn’t going to take Daniella to Garden State and fuck her seven ways from Sunday.

  “Not my problem,” he told Tabby. “Get out of the way.”

  But in the manner of all DaSilvas, she didn’t budge an inch. “You know he cheated on her, right? Aaron? She found condom wrappers in his suit jacket. He was doing some chick from work behind Nix’s back.”

  That halted his escape. He stared at Tabby. She wasn’t smiling anymore. “He broke her heart, man, but she stayed with him. He laid the ‘it was a mistake, but we need to have more sex’ guilt trip on her and she bit the bullet.”

  Noah forcibly loosened his fists. “Why are you telling me this?”

  She gave him a look. “Stop dicking around and do what you know you need to do.”

  She whirled around and left the laundry in a kaleidoscope of colour. Noah leaned against the washing machine, his head a slow-motion car crash. Nicole, cheated on?

  Where he was from, cheating was a fact of life. A guy fucked whoever he felt like fucking at parties, clubhouses and barbecues. The wives and girlfriends took it in their stride, or pretended to because that was the life. You shacked up with a biker, you understood men who lived outside the rules didn’t make an exception for monogamy. His old man had a dozen girlfriends while he was growing up, brought them to parties and to his mum’s place without a lick of shame. But that was biker land. The DaSilva girls had been raised on love and equality by a dad who adored the shit out of them. So how the fuck had Nicole ended up in the same relationship model as his mum—wearing the blame for her partner’s bullshit?

  For the first time in his life, he was pissed at Edgar. How had he let Nikki stay in that position? Why hadn’t he tried harder? Made it clear what she was worth? She’d been so desperate in his tattooing chair. So sure he’d lose interest, or it wouldn’t work. She needed affection, security, fucking adoration and no one, not even Sam or Tabby, seemed to realise how much. If that wasn’t Edgar’s fault, whose was it?

  He heard Gil laugh and realised he needed to move before he was accused of hiding, probably by Tabby to cover her tracks. He eased the laundry door open and headed for the kitchen.

  Everyone was seated at the dining table. Sam and Scott were holding hands, and Tabby was showing Gil something on her phone. Nicole stood over them, passing out pancakes. She had lilac shadows under her eyes. He felt a stab of irritation. Why wasn’t anyone helping her?

  “Hey,” he said. “Need any more plates?”

  Nicole looked up at him and for the briefest second, he thought she was going to smile, then her gaze dropped to his chest. A crease appeared between her eyebrows and her face changed. She looked panicky, almost terrified.

  “What’s—”

  “Hey man,” Gil said. “Nice jacket.”

  Noah looked down, then back at Nicole’s wide, wondering eyes and it clicked. She knew. It had finally happened. The hairs on his neck lifted in a salute to how fucked he was.

  Sam patted the seat beside her. “C’mon, Noah, take a seat.”

  He sat, firefighting the panic spreading through him. When did she find out? Had she told anyone? She couldn’t have; Sam would have confronted him, Tabby and Gil would have wanted details. Nicole handed him a plate of pancakes and he took them without a word, wanting to stand and kiss her until he pulled everything she knew about his father out of her mouth.

  Sam beamed at him. She was always smiling these days, a side-effect of the Brit sitting by her elbow. Still, he doubted there would be many smiles once Nicole dropped her bombshell. “How was the rest of your shift? You send Daniella out, okay?”

  “Yeah, no problems.”

  “Daniella’s cute,” Tabby said, forever the shit-stirrer. “She single?”

  “Time to start,” Nicole said loudly. “Sam, can you give us a manager run-through?”

  Sam saluted her twin and stood up. “Okay, so it’s not been a bad week in terms of productivity, but…”

  Noah tried to listen, but it was impossible. How had she figured it out? Had she found his record, or was it just news articles and pictures of his old man? Those things people Googled every now and again?

  He shoveled pancakes in his mouth as Nicole took them through her agenda; advertising, finance, general upkeep and the schedule for the next week.

  “Is there anything anyone would like to discuss?” she asked.

  Yeah, can you not tell everyone my dad’s a bikie? he thought, but he kept his mouth shut.

  “Great,” she said. “Meeting adjourned.”

  Gil leaned back in his chair. “Fuckin’ finally. Good pancakes, Nikki.”

  Noah contemplated pushing him over but thought better of it.

  Scott gave a soft round of applause. “You run a tight ship, Nicole. I don’t think I’ve gone to a meeting that good that ran under forty minutes.”

  Nicole smiled. “I went to a seminar last year about the Gorman four-point structure. That’s what I use.”

  “I’ve heard of that!” Scott said enthusiastically. “Where did you take it?”

  Sam caught his eye and grinned, as if to say, ‘Look at these nerds.’ Noah tried to smile back, but in his mind, she was shouting ‘I can’t believe you never told me you were a bikie, you cunt!’ “Coming downstairs?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Gotta talk to Nicole.”

  “About?”

  He thought fast. “The pay system. I had trouble with it last night.”

  Sam rolled her eyes. “It’s a pain in the arse, isn’t it? But Nix wants to keep a tight fist around the finances.”

  “Why?” Gil asked. “There a problem?”

  “Not right now, but Nix thinks we lost a chunk of change sometime during the last year. She wants to find it.”

  Gil rubbed a hand through his hair. “What if Edgar took it to fund his little retreat into nowhere?”

  Sam shrugged. “He might have.”

  Noah scowled at Gil. “He didn’t.”

  “How do you know? No one knows where Eddie is or why he left.”

  “I just know.”

  “How?”

  Noah gritted his teeth. “You got Franco booked at eight, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Gil huffed. He stood. “See you pricks later.”

  He slouched off, his baggy hoodie and swooshed hair giving him the profile of a sulky teen. One down, three to go. Noah hung around as Scott, Sam, and Nicole chatted, trying to look like he wanted to be there. He was about to give up on a moment with Nicole when Tabby clocked him. “Oi, Sam, I found a log that looks like a dragon outside. Come see it.”

  She then frogmarched her older sister and Scott outside, dropping him a huge wink he chose to ignore.

  Nicole immediately headed for the kitchen, pulling pink rubber gloves out from u
nder the sink. He strode after her, feeling like a bull in a china shop. “You shouldn’t do that. You cooked.”

  She whirled around. “So, who’s going to do it?”

  Noah held out his hands.

  She looked at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” He tugged the gloves away and pulled them on. They were tight, but they fit. He gently nudged her away from the sink and plunged his hands into the soapy water.

  “Did you learn to wash dishes in The Rangers?” Nicole asked, her blue eyes hard as glass.

  He didn’t reply. Couldn’t. Hearing that name come out of her mouth was a sock in the gut. “How long have you known?”

  “A couple of days. Do they know?”

  “Who?”

  She gestured to the doorway. “Sam and Tabby and the others?”

  He shook his head.

  “What about my dad?”

  He turned back to the plates, scrubbing the syrup from a chipped dinner plate and placing it in the drying rack.

  “Noah?”

  “I’m not talking about this here.”

  “Then where—”

  “My place. Come over and we can talk.”

  There was a pause. “Is this about sleeping with me?” Nicole’s tongue snuck across her lower lip and it was so cute, he smiled. It felt like clay cracking.

  “You’re the one who wants it, Nikki.”

  “I do not! You’re the one who…did that to me last night.”

  “Because you were begging for it. Because you wouldn’t have left me alone until you got it.”

  He turned in time to see her going a furious red. “Don’t be a…dick.” The word came out jerky, as though her swearing reflex was rusted over. It was fucking adorable. “Don’t,” she hissed. “Don’t think that I’m cute.”

  He couldn’t help it, he stepped forward and cupped a gloved, soapy hand to her cheek. Nicole’s mouth turned up, her gorgeous blue eyes closing, and he did what he’d wanted to do for weeks, months, forever. He kissed her, and everything went quiet as a velvet sunset. She tasted like the first shot of whiskey, sweet and smooth, burning all the way down. His cock turned to steel against his thigh and he pulled her closer, pressing her slender, shivering body against his and feeling it soften. She liked this, being held like this and god, he liked it, too. He still wanted to throw her down and fuck her but this soft, slow-moving bliss was something else.