“Sheridan, don’t play dumb. What is it?”
“It’s just…Cooper told me that Alex found Matteo already, and he’s dead.”
The air left my lungs quickly as I tried to understand what I was hearing. “What do you mean?”
Sheridan sighed and sat down on the tattoo chair again. “Alex had put some of the boys out there to track him down while he kept you here I guess. When he found him, he killed him and had to come to Cooper to ask forhis permission. No one is allowed to go out on their own without asking for Cooper to be okay with it, so he asked after he’d done it.”
“Why would he lie to me?”
“Maybe he’s enjoyed having you here,” Sheridan offered. “He was scared you would leave like you always do, and he wasn’t ready for that.”
“I wouldn’t have left, Sheridan.”
“He doesn’t know that, Orla. Talk to him.”
“Oh, I intend to,” I said as Sheridan rolled her eyes.
“I already feel bad for him.”
Bear
I opened the door to my house and headed down to the room I’d set Orla up in for tattooing. She could have people here if they were vetted properly by Rebel. He’d told me she was tattooing today but didn’t tell me who. I’d almost killed him.
After being on the road all day, missing Orla like crazy, I wasn’t in the mood for his shit.
“Orla!”
“In here,” she called out. I moved down to the door and saw her putting her ink pots down on the side, after refilling them.
“Who were you tattooing?”
“Sheridan,” she answered. “Why?”
“Rebel wouldn’t tell me who it was, the little shit.”
Orla shrugged. “Why does it matter? Do you not trust me?”
Something in the way she said it put me on edge. She refused to look me in the eye, and she hadn’t bounded into my arms the second I got home, which meant she was probably pissed off.
“How did today go?” I asked, trying to see if something happened at the courthouse. I hadn’t seen Hawk yet to ask him.
“It was fine, I suppose. Neal is a dick, but we all know that.”
I nodded. “Sorry I had to go on a run. I wanted to be there for you.”
She shrugged. “I had almost the rest of the crew with me, so it was fine. How was your run? Do anything fun?”
“Hardly,” I said, feeling the anger seep off her in waves. “You got it in you to tattoo me some more today?”
“Sure,” she said, picking her gun up. “Come over.”
I pulled my jeans off, kicking them to the side of the room and jumping up on the chair. Orla pulled her stool over and got to work on finishing the tattoo she’d been doing on my shin for the last few days. My other leg wasalready almost complete. The pain was intense, being on my bone, but I’d give anything to have her sweet artwork on me. I wish I had a fresh canvas for her to work her magic on, having her tattoo me did things to me that I didn’t even think were possible.
She didn’t speak as she went to work, but I could feel the quick needle work and the swiping. She was pissed off about something.
“Are you upset I went on the run?” I asked her.
“Nope.”
