Inked Fighter: Book One (BBW New Adult Romance) Read Free Page A

as it usually did. Some dudes cheered at my arrival inside. Everybody loved the fucking tattoo guy. Yeah, right.
    They’d given me a damp little cell of a room down in the basement. I kept my equipment locked in there so they didn’t try to use it themselves. I’d brought all my guns, needles, inks, and an autoclave with me from LA. Had I known the volume I’d be facing, I would have brought more.
    I checked my equipment and lined everything up on a sterile tray. Most of the club leaders wanted professional tattoos and planned them out before, even having me make original sketches. The rest of this bunch of cocksuckers just wanted to cover themselves in whatever I could put down as fast as possible.
    In the last five years, I had become one of the most sought-after tattoo artists on the west coast. I took pride in my art, even for these assholes. They made it hard to care.
    I had to tattoo a lot of stock art because I didn’t have the time or the equipment to do original designs on the fly. Tonight would be one of those nights. I could feel it. If the women got in on the action or another crew came in from out of town, it would be a fucking nightmare. 
    I briefly imagined forcing them to make appointments and to sign in before seeing me. I laughed bitterly at my equipment. Anger surged in my chest, and I felt like smashing my tray against the wall.
     
     

Chapter Three: Claire
    When I got home an hour later, Rose had passed out. Her little head was slumped over to the side. I let Bradly run into the front yard and carefully removed my sleeping baby from her seat. With Rose cradled in my arms, I walked inside, praying things hadn’t gone batshit crazy while I was gone.
    When I entered the living room, silence greeted me. Bradly ran around my legs straight for his food bowl. I looked into our old-fashioned kitchen and found my little sister Zoe sitting at the ancient oak dining table reading a magazine.
    Rocking Rose in my arms, I nodded to Zoe and tiptoed upstairs and into the room I shared with Rose. I gently deposited her in her crib. With one last glance, I closed the door.
    Zoe turned to me as I came down the stairs. The first floor of our house had a narrow living room on one side of the stairs and a dining room and kitchen that wrapped around the other. Down the hall, under the stairs, was a bathroom and Mom’s old room. We still didn’t use that room.
    My sewing machine and folded lengths of fabric were tucked behind the dining room table on a shelf that sat under a big dusty window. A half-finished sundress hung from a makeshift clothing rack on a wire hanger.
    “How is everything?” I asked Zoe. Her wavy, strawberry blond hair shimmered around her slim shoulders. She wore smoky eye makeup around her emerald-colored, almond-shaped eyes. A loose shirt fell off her shoulder to show the strap of a tank top. She looked cute and young. A tinge of envy washed through me, but I brushed it aside.
    “There was a massive asshole at the diner today that didn’t tip after he spent almost an hour complaining about everything I did. How was the hike?”
    “Sorry about the asshole. The hike was nice. I met a guy.”
    “You and a guy? Do tell.”
    “There isn’t really anything to tell. He was super hot, and he gave me a drawing of me and Rose.” I pulled out the drawing and flattened it on the table in front of her. Her eyes widened at the skill it displayed.
    “Wow. Nice drawing. Who is this guy? Where is he from?”
    “I didn’t ask.”
    “Claire, you’re hopeless.”
    I sighed and looked over at Zoe’s fashion magazine, examining the clothes. I hated that Zoe was still in town after graduating high school last month. After Mom, her grades went to hell. Unless she wanted to go to community college, she didn’t have a lot of options left. She insisted on taking a job at the diner to help pay the bills during her junior year. Now she worked full time.
    The front door slammed open and Bradly barked like a