"I'm not taking my shirt off." I give Ollie a side glare as I strap down my duffle bag to the back of the bike while Andy gives Dad directions to RagDoll Tattoos & Piercings.
"Awe, come on." Ollie stomps her foot in a small fit that brings a smile to my face. "We need a before and after picture."
"We don't need it." I zip down the last strap on the bag, making it dimple across the top.
Will I cave to taking my shirt off for Ollie so she can get her damn picture? Yes. But I'm going to make her work for it. "You just want it."
"Well, yeah, who doesn't want pics of you with your shirt off." Ollie leans two hands on my bike and wiggles her brows at me. With the tight white tee, blue jean mini skirt, and the way her back arches, she reminds me of one of those hot motorcycle girls' calendars photos that may or may not be hanging up in my bedroom.
I quickly clear my throat and think of the old nuns that I see walking to mass every morning across from our school, and not the two perfectly round grapefruit-sized breasts on display. That should do the trick.
My gaze shifts back to my bag as I run my hand through my hair. Andy and dad walk over.
"What's the kid's name again?" Dad glances up at Andy from his phone. He must be keeping notes on there.
"Jace Hall. He was trained by a friend of mine, Dolly, and close to my brother, Colt," Andy tells him.
Ollie's head snaps up at the name of the guy doing my tattoo. Her eyes glisten with excitement that brings a curious scowl to my face. "Jacey's doing the tattoo?" I can't say that I care for the amount of excitement in her tone.
"Jacey?" I scoff at the nickname. I don't know who the hell this guy is, but it's the first time Ollie's ever dropped his name.
Ollie grows serious as she turns toward me. "When you see him, say this exactly, Ollie says hi, Jacey Poo."
I give her a placid glare. "I'm not calling him that."
This guy's damn pet names are growing increasingly worse. Seriously, she's never talked about him before. They can't be all that close.
"You have to or he won't believe it's from me. My Jacey Wacey Cousie Poo needs his hello." A pout forms on her face as Andy holds back a chuckle.
"Jace is close to Colt. He's like a father figure to the kid, and probably the closest thing Ollie has to a cousin or a relative her age." He glances over at Ollie. "And she takes it a bit too far."
I'm not sure if I should feel sorry for this poor guy or just relieved that Zany hasn't evolved past that in the almost nineteen years I've known her.
Ollie rolls her eyes as I round my bike and lean against it next to her. Now that I'm packed and ready to go, tomorrow can't get here fast enough. This is by far the best gift my dad has ever gotten for me. Tattoos are fucking expensive, plus the motel stays down in Freecaster. We'll be getting back just in time for the surprise party I'm not supposed to know about.
"You ready?" Dad asks as he pockets his phone inside his jacket.
"Almost. Ollie wants before and after pictures." I raise my right hip just enough to pull my phone out of my back pocket and hold it out to my dad.
Ollie's face blooms with excitement as Dad takes the phone, and I slip out of my leather jacket. I quickly reach up and yank my faded blue shirt over my head and drape it across the back of my bike. Ollie leans over and rests her arm on my bare shoulder before I wrap mine around her waist and smile at the camera. Ollie beams so bright with joy while she points to my pec that it seems as if the sun dulls in her presence. Dad clicks a couple of pictures before I quickly get redressed.
I swing my leg over my bike to straddle it and pull my helmet off the handlebars.
"Good luck and be safe." Ollie leans over and wraps her arms around me in a warm hug. A waft of a sweet floral scent fills the air around me.
"I will, and behave yourself while I'm gone." I give her a playful wink before pulling my helmet on.
Ollie pulls away and pats the top of my black helmet, making it fill with a clunking sound. "I make no promises."
I shake my head as I watch my dad get on his bike. I tell Ollie a quick goodbye before dad kicks off and races out of our drive. A cloud of dust plooms behind him.
Fucker. He's trying to make me panic.
I rev my bike and speed off behind him. The rumble of my bike roars around me as the wind pushes against me. A smile crosses my face when I give one last glance in my side mirror. Andy sneaks up behind Ollie as she watches me leave and wraps his arms lovingly around her waist, spinning her around. By the way Ollie's face scrunches up; I can tell she's screaming and laughing.
The sight of her laughter brings a smile to my face. I have to tear my gaze away if I want a chance in hell of catching up to my old man.
With hefty throttle, I blast around a corner and find my dad. It's a two-hour drive down to Freecaster, and most of it is on the turnpike with the view of the gorgeous Atlantic coast to my left.
It's too bad Ollie couldn't come. She would have loved the ride with the salt air blowing through those curls. Though, she makes this trip often to visit her Uncle Colt.
When we finally get to Freecaster, we take the first exit that leads to the upper west side. It's still pretty remote and not a part I've seen before. The area seems a bit run down, but it's no surprise to me. Dad and I can't exactly afford to stay at the Marriot. But when he pulls into a two-story motel with a big ass clown sign on the front, I do start to wonder if he picked this particular place on purpose. We pull up in front of the glass reception area of the motel. The windows are cracked but sealed back shut with duct tape. If it weren't for the fact that the parking lot has vehicles in it, I would start to wonder if this place is condemned.
On the broken motel front window, a chipped hand-painted clown dressed in red and white polka dots holds a sign, 'Clown Hotel. One person is thirty-five a night, two people fifty.'
Who the fuck names a hotel Clown Hotel. You're just asking to be the bed bug and cockroach capital of the world.
I slowly take off my helmet and hold it to my chest before glancing over at my dad. This place has to be a joke. He's pulling my leg. Any minute now, he's going to burst out laughing and drive us somewhere else.
When he gets off his bike and gives me a well-are-you-coming look, my guts twist.
"You're not serious?" I nod toward the entryway.
"Course I am. It ain't so bad." Dad glances around the busted and heaved pavement that's long overdue for a resurfacing.
My nose scrunches up as I focus on the blue and white candy-striped pole holding up the giant clown sign. "It ain't that great either. It looks like the type of place you come to meet up with a five dollar hooker."
Dad raises a brow at me. "Do you meet with five dollar hookers at places like this?"
"What?" My attention snaps to him. "No. God no!"
Dad chuckles and shakes his head. "Suck it up, buttercup. This is where we're staying."
I sigh and reluctantly get off my bike. As shady as this place looks, I don't trust leaving my duffle bag on the back of the bike, even if it's only holding tomorrow's clothes, my toothbrush, and my hairbrush.
"Hey." Dad walks up to me and slaps my arm before pointing behind me.
I turn to see what he's pointing at and find a painted plywood cutout of a clown on the back of a motorcycle. The wind is blowing his flaming orange hair back, and under him is a painted sign.
"See, biker's welcome," he reads off the sign, though it doesn't make me feel any better about staying here.
When we get inside the reception area, my stomach drops to my feet. The small space is filled with hundreds of clown figurines and dolls. The most terrifying one is a life-size clown sitting in a rocking chair in the room's far corner.
His wide eyes stare intently at dad and me as we walk up to the reception desk. An older man in his eighties greets us, and I give a half-hearted nod, keeping my focus on that damn clown. While dad and the older man chat about the room we reserved. I swear I see the doll's hand move.
My heart leaps into my throat as I grab Dad's arm. "Dad! It moved!"
Dad's blue eyes scowl at me before he follows my terrified gaze to the clown. "Damn it, Zane, you fucked up my signature."
"Don't worry about him." The weathered man behind the counter tries to console me. "That's just Mr. Jangles. We have guests tell us all the time they see him move. Some even swear they see him walking around in here after I shut down."
Fucking great. That helps.
"My boy hates clowns. At his third birthday, my ex and I threw him a clown birthday party and one of our friends to dress up as one. Zane about shit himself scared, and has hated then ever since."
I tear my gaze from Mr. Jangles long enough to give Dad a gee-thanks glare. Dad quickly finishes signing in, and as he walks out, I swear to God, that fucking clown rocks in his chair.
Dad and I walk up the metal staircase that leads up to our room. On the door, a blue and white polka dot clown hangs with our room number painted on the yellow balloons he's holding. Dad fumbles with the key and opens it up. Despite the artwork of clowns in the room, the hotel isn't too bad. The room is clean and not the roach-infested place that I assumed it would be.
We get settled in, watch some TV, and order pizza before turning in for the night. The lumpy mattress and flat pillows make it difficult to fall asleep, and soon become restless.
While Dad snores away, the sounds of rattling and banging pipes keep me up, and I swear I hear the jingle of bells outside our room door. When a clown-like shadow figure passes in front of our large room window, I finally give up and grab my phone.
I don't want to wake Dad up, so I dip into the bright yellow bathroom and sit in the dry tub with my phone. I know she's probably asleep by now, it's nearly two in the morning, but I want to tell Ollie about this fucking creepy place.
Zane- You awake?
Ollie- No. I'm text sleeping.
Her reply helps me to relax, despite the giant dumbass clown printed on the shower curtain.
Zane- You should see this place that Dad rented out for the night. It's a nightmare. Fucking clowns everywhere!
Ollie- Hard pass.
Zane- Can you facetime?
My answer comes as a ring in request to face time with her. I quickly answer to find Ollie sideways on my screen. Her phone illuminates her face and bare shoulder. A dark blue blanket is pulled up, covering what I can only assume is her bare chest. When I don't recognize where she is, a frown crosses my face. "Where the hell are you?"
Ollie quickly holds a finger to her lips and lifts her phone just high enough for me to see a body outline behind her and short flaming red hair.
Fucking Korbin's house.
I guess she's back with him again. He's such a prick.
"Where are you?" She whispers as she readjusts her head on the pillow.
"In the bathroom. I didn't want to wake Dad up." I glance around the dated bathroom and try to ignore the sounds of Korbin's heavy breathing coming across the line.
"Are you nervous about tomorrow?"
My gaze flicks back to my screen to see her propped slightly up on her elbow. Thank God the blanket is still covering her chest, but barely. As wild as her hair is, I can tell someone, probably Korbin had their fingers dug deep into her locks. She's sporting an 'I just got fucked good look' about her, and she wears it shockingly well. A little too well.
"Not really. This fucking motel is giving me the heebie jeebies. I swear to God, Ollie, I saw a clown walk by our goddamn window."
Ollie's face lights up as a soft giggle escapes her lips. Behind her, I see Korbin shift; his groggy, gruff voice comes harshly across the line. "Either shut the fuck up and hang up the goddamn phone, baby, or get the hell out."
My jaw ticks. The fucking ass is lucking. I'm not there to drag him out of bed and bust his lip again.
Ollie glances over her shoulder before turning her gaze back to me. "I gotta go. Stay strong, and beware of the killer clown." She blows me a kiss right before the screen cuts off to an end call.
At least pissed off has replaced the unnerving feeling this damn hotel has given me. I drop my phone into my lap and rest my head against the shower wall.
Ollie can do so much better than that fucking piece of shit.
I head back to bed, and the thoughts of beating Korbin's smug face helps lull me to sleep.
The next morning dad and I pull into a tiny strip mall that's vacant, save for three shops occupying a few of the storefronts, one being RagDoll Tattoo and Piercing. The flashing neon open sign makes my heart rate pick up a beat, and when I pull my helmet off, Dad notices the slightly nervous look on my face.
"Changing your mind?"
"Hell no." I take in a calming breath. I'm determined to do this, and I'm sure it's not as bad as some people claim.
I get off my bike and follow Dad into the front of the parlor. On the inside, maroon and dark hardwood walls greet us. A few chairs sit by the window, and a small counter display case shows off different types of body piercings. Behind the counter, a trim short woman flashes us a smile. Her long dyed grey hair drapes over her shoulder, showing off her black death hawk. Her fair russet complexion is covered in tattoos, from her shoulders to her ankles. Two dimple piercings sink into her cheeks with her smile, and the silver septum ring flashes under the neon light.
"Can I help you?"
"Hey." Dad steps up to the counter before pointing a thumb at me. "Zander Armstrong has an appointment with Jace Hall."
The woman's pencil-thin eyebrows shoot into her hairline as she smirks, lifting one dimple piercing to the side. "Oh, we've been waiting for you guys. Been a while since we've seen Pirates in Freecaster."
"Yeah, well you might be getting a hefty dose of them soon. There's a boxing tournament down here in a month or so. Andy's thinking of entering a lot of our boys."
"Sounds fun. I'm sure Rob will have something going on at the barn to welcome any new Pirates to the area." The woman steps over to a door a couple of feet behind her. "Lord knows Colt won't let Andy get far if he's in town. But come on back, Jace is just finishing setting up."
The woman opens the door and steps inside to lead the way; looking over her shoulder at me; she says, "By the way, I'm Dolly. Owner, operator, and hardass if you ask Studmuffin back here."
A smirk forms on my face. "Zane. Zander, ma'am," I quickly correct when my dad gives me that look that says be respectful.
Dolly flinches. "Oh, hitting me with the ma'am title. Love the manners but that makes me feel old as shit. Dolly works just fine." She faces forward as we reach the end of the hall. "Oh Studmuffin, I got your next appointment here."
When I follow Dad into the room, I see a lean bulky guy in a black cutoff sleeve shirt with the RagDoll logo on it. The guy looks close to my age, just slightly older. He's hunched over his work table, getting his inks set up and supplies in place for our session. Thick muscular tattooed arms meticulously move, showing his care and dedication for his craft. It puts my mind at ease. I know Andy put me in good hands for my tattoo.
Without looking up from his task, the guy grins and shakes his head. "Damnit, Doll, stop with the Studmuffin shit. You're gonna have customers thinking the wrong thing here."
I have heard worse, dude. I've heard you called much, much worse.
Dolly scoffs and waves a dismissive hand. As she turns for the door, she shoots me one last encouraging smile and places her hand on Dad's arm. "Come on, big guy. Let's go grab some coffee while they work. I'm dying to hear how things are going in Mer Harbor."
Not to my surprise, Dad abandons me, his pride and joy, for a woman. Once they're gone, I turn my attention back to Jace. "I take it you're Jace, then?"
The guy finally lifts his head before getting up and walking over. Stretching out one of his inked hands, he nods. "Yeah, just Jace. Not Studmuffin. I swear. You must be Zander."
"Yeah," I chuckle and clasp his hand in mine before giving it a firm shake. "Glad the Studmuffin isn't what you go by. Might not be able to bring myself to calling you that."
I shrug off my leather jacket and drape it over the chair by the door. "Thanks for taking my appointment. Andy raved about you." Ollie's message for him comes to mind. No fucking way am I relaying it like she wants. "Ollie says hi too."
Jace's eyes widen as he steps back. "Wait a fucking second...Zander...Like Zane, Ollie's Zane?"
"Yeah," I reluctantly reply. God knows what that woman has said about me. "Do I want to know what she's said about me?"
"Nothing bad." He shrugs before waving to the tattoo chair for me to sit and takes his place on a stool next to it. Visibly holding back a strained smile, he adds, "Though there was that story about her first time wearing a bikini to the beach. Said you got stuck in the water for a while waiting for your inflatable to run out of air."
I pause in the middle of pulling my shirt over my head and groan. I remember that, unfortunately. She looked fucking hot, and puberty sucks balls. I had no idea she realized I was hiding my fucking boner or that she so kindly shared the event with another.
"I was...swimming." I finish pulling my shirt over my head and tossing my jacket before taking a seat in the tattoo chair.
"Don't worry about it, man. We've all been there and lord knows my girl has shared all the dirty details with our friends on more than one occasion."
"Yeah, well, it don't help being friends with an over-sharer either. Thank God that's about all she can share." I shake my head and glance down at my chest, bidding the virgin flesh a happy and silent goodbye.
Slipping on a pair of gloves, Jace asks, "So, where we putting this thing?"
"Right here." I pat my left pec just next to my heart, where I plan on having the souped-up version of the Pirates logo placed. Andy had faxed over the design of the realistic skull and crossbones days ago. The pirate bandana and the banner sporting Mer Harbor Pirates will finish the look-off. The perfect combination of my style and the badass look we Pirates hold.
"Good place. I got my Guardians mark there too." He nods and taps his chest with his hand. "It's a tough spot for first ink though, but I respect the pride you must have to put it there. Shows a lot of loyalty and love for your club."
I smile and nod, knowing the guy gets it. Most don't. Unless you're in a motorcycle club, it's hard to grasp the brotherhood that goes along with it.
"Well, go ahead and lean back, and we'll get this shit going."
Jace lines up the stencil on me and double-checks how I want it placed before I sit back in the chair. He starts on the outline as I grit my teeth from the burning pain that's spreading across my flesh and stare up at the ceiling.
"So, what's the deal with you and Ollie?" Jace asks as he wipes away some excess ink spilling from my skin.
"Uh." His question takes me off guard for a second. "No deal. We've just been friends since diapers. My dad, Pete, is the Pirates VP. He and Andy have been friends forever and our mom's were pregnant at about the same time."
"Just friends, huh?" A smile pulls at his face. "I had a chick friend I was just friends with too, Lexi. Knew her since the first day of first grade. Wanna know what I call her now?"
"What?" I raise a brow, unsure of where this is going to lead.
"My girl. My Guarded Lady. Future wife and future mother of my children." He looks up at me with this odd look on his face, like he knows something I don't. "And all of that started from just being friends."
"That's cool." I've never really let myself think of Ollie as more than a friend. Is she hot? Yeah, but she's Ollie. "But I don't think of Ollie that way." Or more like I force myself not to when the thoughts wander into my mind.
Jace cocks an eyebrow that says he thinks I'm full of shit before turning his attention back to his work. "So, you got a spitfire best friend, who's hot as hell—" he glances up briefly. "I may be happily taken, but I'm not blind and you getting stuck in the ocean with your inflatable says you aren't either." He looks back down as he turns the tattoo gun back on. "And I happen to know that chick's got a heart of gold, loyal as fuck, but...you don't think of her that way?" He tsks. "Sounds like someones got a bad case of blinders and denial, but that's just my opinion."
"I got a thing for someone else." I glance down at what he's done so far. It already looks fucking amazing. "My ex. I wanna get her back."
His brows pull tightly together. "Well, I know something about that shit too. At one point, Lexi was my ex." He grabs a rag and wipes away more ink and blood. "So, what's so special about her, the one you want back?"
"She's hot. Like hot hot, you know." I bite my bottom lip, thinking about Becca's petite frame and dark hair. "She's got this glorious porcelain skin, raven-black hair, fucking hot body. She'd still be mine if my ex-best friend didn't steal her away."
Jace tenses for a moment. "Friends getting into it over a girl...yeah, been there too. Not even gonna bother with bros before hoes, cause we all fucking know that ain't always the case for the right girl...and yeah, hot body is always a good thing. But if she can just jump to your ex-best friend that easily, is she loyal?" He looks up and raises a questioning brow. "Better yet, and maybe I'm over stepping here, if so you can tell me to fuck off, and I'll get it. But when you feel like shit is she there to make things better? Is she the first one you go to? Is she your anchor?"
"She doesn't need to be, I've got Ollie for that." The words fly out of my mouth before I give it a second thought. My body goes numb for a second. I mean, I've always known Ollie's my ray of sunshine. She always has been. "Ollie's my sunshine, but it's still different." Not that I can pinpoint why other than if it doesn't work out, it will literally shake my world to the core.
Jace tips his head to the side and shrugs. "If you say so."
Jace and I shoot the shit while he finishes up my tattoo. When he's done, it's complete perfection. Any other tats I get, I will make the two-hour trek down here to have him do it. Just as Jace smears the disinfectant on me and lays the protective cellophane on my brand new tat, dad shows back up to get me. We both thank Jace and head out.
"You ready to fake surprise?" Dad asks as I nurse my sore skin.
A smile spreads across my face thinking about how hard Ollie's tried to keep this party a surprise, only to have her dad rat her out. "Yeah. I better put on a real show."
Hey, lovies.
It's finally here!!! I can't tell you how excited I am about this chapter and having Dr. Love show up (a.k.a. Jace Hall). I want to thank my friend ChelseaKFree for the cameo. It was so nice to work with her again. And boy, I'll tell ya, Jace got those gears in Zane's head moving.
What did you think about this chapter? Also, I'd love to hear your thoughts on Jace's advice. Do you think he's right?
I'll leave my opinions to myself to avoid spoilers, but I look forward to your thoughts.
If you want to read more about Jace, and the Guardians of Freecaster, then I suggest you head over to ChelseaKFree's page and start in Kissing My Ex. There you'll see how Jace goes through his trials and tribulations that left him so sage in this chapter. It's what I'm currently reading, and I'll tell you 🔥🔥🔥.
Thank you again for reading, and I hope you're ready to party in the next chapter!
Below I'm leaving a gif of Jace.