Savior: A Tattered Club Story (Tattered Social Club Series Book 1) (3 page)

Time to go home.

The apartment he rented was within walking distance of the shop. It was past ten o’clock, but walking in the shadows between the street lamps didn’t bother him. He liked the quiet as each step cleared his head. And the riffraff? Come at him. The black letters tattooed across his fingers read
FEAR NONE
for a reason.

The Cinema House was part of the new restoration project. Already underway, the top two floors had been converted into studio apartments. Niko had been lucky enough to get into a loft on the third floor. The place was hella cool, and he liked the look of the old theater. At least the owners were willing to turn it back into the style of its glory days. The Professor loved telling stories about his dad and the nights when the theater had been packed and the club full of gangsters. Niko could listen over and over to the story about when Capone landed a bullet in one of the basement walls and The Professor’s grandpa tossed the thug out on his ass.

He rounded the corner of a crumbling building and watched two guys dressed in black hoodies cross the street. As they passed, one made a point to bump into Niko’s shoulder. Three years of sobriety may have brought him some clarity, but hell-no did it shrink his balls.

“Douchebag.” Niko turned. “You got a problem? I’m sure we can work it out, say, down that alley?” There was no hiding a shakedown when the target was the king of walk-by theft. Fuck, he’d been doing the shit since he was twelve.

The man, obviously taller than Niko, snarled and started to walk back. “What did you say, asshole?”

Niko dropped the bag from his shoulder and slid his right hand into the front pocket of his jeans. “I know what you were trying to do, dumbass. Been there a thousand times and you’re not slick enough. Do you seriously think I’d walk around here with a wallet on me?” Niko slid his fingers through the brass knuckles hidden in his pocket.

“All fucking right. So, you caught me. Now, how about you give me that bag, smartass.”

Niko saw the end of a blade slide out of the guy’s pocket. “Not a cop in sight, fucker,” Niko stated without hesitation. “You’re not getting the bag.”

When the tall thug lunged at Niko, he ducked to the right and popped his hand out of his pocket, making a hard impact to the partner wielding the knife. The cocky talker was on his own as the thin blond fell, thudding his skull on the sidewalk. Niko kicked the knife against the building.

“Gonna talk now?” Niko taunted. When the thug reached out to make contact with Niko’s face, instincts sped through his veins.
Duck. Bob. Impact to the rib cage.
“You jacked with the wrong fucker, dude.”

The guy fell beside his friend, coughing and trying to breathe.

Niko shoved the brass knuckles back into his pocket. He hunched down, bending his knees to look the man in the face. “You see, my name is Niko Melikov.” He snapped a quick slap across the man’s cheek. “Maybe you’ve heard of me. Maybe not, but I assure you that name won’t be forgotten now. Show your face around here again and you won’t be able to walk next time. Been off probation for two years. It’s free game now, guys.”

Niko left the assholes rolling on the sidewalk, holding their torsos. He slid the bag back on his shoulder and strolled the two blocks to his place. He looked up at the intricate details above the set of doors.

The ancient elevator freaked him out. The one time he’d used it, the metal door got stuck, and it took every muscle in his arms to move it. Thugs trying to knife him didn’t raise his blood pressure, but being trapped again made his pulse explode.

Turning down the hallway behind the restrooms, he took the metal steps two at a time until he hit the second floor projection room. He’d spent too many nights unable to sleep, unable to forget the sound of the shot, the smell of burnt metal. The room hadn’t been touched yet. Several dusty projectors stood like rusted statues, waiting for their moment to crank up and be important again.

A single gold-and-silver lamp sat on an olive-green metal table against the open wall where the magic flew onto the white screen. For thirty dollars at a thrift store, he’d gotten the lamp and a chair.

The musty scent of times gone by inspired his art. Hell, how many times had he sprayed walls just like these, making something amazing from something...nothing.

Niko moved on until he reached the third floor. His door was on the right. The one on the left rarely opened. He’d met the guy once as they’d unlocked their doors in what could’ve been an awkward silence if they’d stalled too long. He turned the key. The echo of the heavy metal door sliding rang out in the landing.

Casper, a white pit bull pup—well, white except for the jet-black fur covering his left ear—came barreling toward Niko with fat paws pounding the hardwood floor. “Hey, big guy, miss me?” Niko knelt down, letting the dog lap at his cheek. Before walking into the spacious room, he slid the door closed and clicked the lock into place.

For the first time in his life, he was able to open the fridge and find the shelves full of eggs, butter, milk, cheese...everything he once had to scrape money together to afford. Omelets were a staple when cooking for one, easy and damn near one of the few things he knew how to make well.

“Sorry I was late, little man. I see you’re getting used to the puppy pads.” He knelt down and scratched the dog behind one floppy ear. “Good boy. Tomorrow we’ll hit the park.” One positive thing about the restoration was the new dog park on Washington. The grass and water fountain took the place of the dilapidated park. The old slides and equipment had been painted and modified for the dogs. Pretty cool.

He cracked eggs into a bowl and whisked. As he poured the mixture into the hot pan, a vibration hummed against his thigh. Silencing his phone during a tat was one way he concentrated on the client. Hell, the only people who meant anything to him were already in the shop whenever he was working.

After dropping some chopped green onions into the simmering eggs, he fished the phone out of his pocket.
Damn.
He slipped the pad of his finger over the call strip. “Hey,” he said, remembering he’d made plans.

“Hey my ass,” Samantha, the woman he occasionally fucked. One of the two women he used to forget the fantasies running through his screwed up head. “You ditched me Saturday and now you won’t answer my calls? This is it, Niko. I don’t have to be treated like this. You want me around to fuck then treat me like shit?”

She was right, but that was the way he worked. She was one of many on a list of hellos and good-byes. “Sorry. Had a client.”

He slid the omelet onto a plate as she continued the tirade. “Listen, I know I’m not your...preference, but the least you could do is not lead me on. If you want to stop seeing me, then have the balls to say so. Do you think I don’t notice your eyes roaming? The shit part is we’re checking out the same guys.”

Niko slammed his fist on the counter, instantly regretting it when Casper flinched and ran behind the butcher block counter. “Shut your fucking mouth. I don’t know what you think you’ve seen, but you’re right about one thing. I have a big set of balls, so me and my balls are telling you to get the hell lost.”

Before she could say anything else, he tapped the red icon and tossed the phone behind him on the bag. Casper crept from behind the tall chair pushed against the counter. “Sorry, boy. Women come and go, little man. You’ll learn.”

Grabbing a bag of barbeque chips and the plate, he walked to the couch and picked up the remote. As soon as he plopped down, Casper jumped beside him and got comfortable. Unfolding the bag of chips, Niko held one out for the pup to chomp.

“That’s it. You’ve got food in your bowl.” Niko flipped through the channels until he found an episode of
CSI: New Orleans
.

The light from the TV tossed shadows in the far corners of the room until it bounced off the wall of windows behind the metal staircase leading to the loft. For a moment he was confused until he felt the soft up and down of Casper’s chest next to his thigh. They’d fallen asleep. After putting the empty plate in the sink, he stepped into the bathroom.

Damn, once again he woke up in the middle of the night. It didn’t matter if he was in bed or on the couch, all he wanted was one night of good sleep.

Walking back into the kitchen, he opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Casper slept on the couch. He slipped the drawing notebook from the black bag and stuffed the keys into his pocket.

The projection room’s musty smell lit his senses as he turned the knob on the lamp. The screech of the chair brought him closer to the metal table. First, he tried curves and lines, perfecting the dragon one client requested. Erase. Scales lapped over scales. Erase.

Damn.

Finally giving in, he flipped forward to the soft lines of the anchor he’d started in the studio. The one he’d envisioned on Ethan’s slender torso, running along his side, the tip barely touching the ribs hidden under his arm to the U shape resting at the crest of his hip.

The soft corners of Ethan’s pink lips had moved as Niko listed his favorite colors, but Niko had barely heard the voice that was much too mature for the innocent face sitting across the table. Looking away had been the only way Niko could stomach the thoughts running through his mind. Niko wasn’t gay. He wasn’t gay. Damn it to hell, he wasn’t gay.

Two experiences didn’t make a guy a fag.

Wiping the thoughts from his head, he slid the charcoal tip across the paper. The flood of his muse took up whatever space was left in his brain. The trance settled in with strokes and smudges. He’d decided to make the humming birds a watercolor style. After attending a tattoo conference, he’d tried the technique on several customers and liked the results.

The fading palette of wings bleeding and disappearing into nothing behind the anchor made Ethan fly. The snap of the rope tied to the base of the anchor gave the young guy freedom. Freedom from the asshole in the expensive car.

Several more strokes and everything but the finishing colors completed the custom design. In the confines of the room, time stopped. The night lasted forever and daylight was a demon coming to get him.

He startled. Lifting his face from his folded hands he realized he’d once again fallen asleep working on a project. The design was done. He wiped his eyes, unable to scrub the image of the dulled points on the anchor sliding in movement as Ethan’s pale skin stretched and turned. Perfection.

Today, he’d finish the dragon at the studio between clients. He switched the lamp off and shut the door before heading back upstairs. The blinding light from the morning cast dusty rays on the landing. By the time he slid the heavy door to the side, Casper was waiting with a furiously wagging tail.

“Come on.” He yawned and grabbed one of the plastic grocery bags from the box beside the door. “Let’s go.” He clipped the leash to Casper’s leather collar and headed down the stairs.

The end of summer made Mother Nature go on a bipolar binge. He rubbed his T-shirt covered arms and walked Casper down the alley behind the theater, letting him sniff fifty thousand perfect spots to do his business.

The design turned out better than he could’ve hoped. Ethan wanted color and Niko drew the maximum effect of the blues fading into the greens and—yes—even pink incorporated well into the hummingbird’s feathers. He hoped Ethan would agree to the two sittings it was going to take to put the damn thing on his skin. He figured a pretty boy like Ethan wouldn’t be able to take the pain for a six-hour session in one day.

Niko went back inside and headed for the bathroom. As he waited for the shower to heat, he slid a tooth brush over his teeth and rinsed. When he stepped behind the glass door, he wiped the water from his face. The flip-flop in his stomach had nothing to do with needing to eat breakfast. Every flutter rolled as he stared at his hard cock. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his fingers around the stiff column until the strokes slid along the fat vein underneath the shaft.

Damn, the tug felt good. Felt fucking amazing filling his fist.

Long slender legs. Blonde hair touching her naked shoulders. Pink lips lined with a tinge of red. She bit down...so tight. Legs...long legs...wrap around me... God, wrap around me. Fucking tight pussy. So wet. So fucking wet.

He rounded his palm over the crown, collecting the bead of clear thickness before the water had a chance to wash it away. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he stuck the tip of his tongue out to lick and suck.
So sweet. So sweet...

Sweet dark lashes. Look down baby. Look down where I’m filling you up. Fuck your cunt feels warm. So warm.

Long slender legs...around me. Silky pale hair barely long enough...so soft between my fingers. Sweet creamy skin. God, baby...so smooth.

Dark pink lips split into a moan. Tinged with red where...where...I have to have them, baby. Press...taste...mine. Mine...mine...

Fill her up...fill her until she’s stretched with my fat cock. Fill her up...faster...fill her up...fill him up...tight...wet...faster...fill him up...fill him up...fill him up until his body coils tight...cum... Cum... Thick cum against my stomach. Fuck, come for me...keep coming for me. Let me taste you. For fuck’s sake I have to taste you...have you...have him...have him...

“Fuck!” Niko pistoned his hips, gripping his cock until he fucked the ring of fingers sliding against the pulsing, thudding vein at the back of his dick.

Before he could halt his goddamn brain, the fantasy took him over the edge and cum sprayed against the white subway tiles in gushes. “Fuck...fuck...fuck.” Struggling to catch his breath, he leaned his forehead against the wall. He slammed his fist against the tile. “Goddammit!”

CHAPTER TWO

Ethan zoned out as his friend Michael rambled about an assignment he’d missed in History of Ancient Civilizations. Ethan tried to focus, but his brain drifted to the shadows lurking as they drove by the street lamps. He was on his way to Charles’s, thanks to Michael letting him hitch a ride. It was out of the way, but he knew his friend felt bad letting Ethan take the train.