Free Inked Fighter: Book One (BBW New Adult Romance) by E.E. Griffin

knew me better than almost anyone. She used that knowledge to hurt me more than anyone else ever could. Her illness didn’t matter in that moment; nothing could take away the sting of her verbal assault. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes as my heart shattered all over the living room floor, mixing with the spilled popcorn. 
     

Chapter Ten: Damien
    The gang came back Sunday afternoon, looking wiped out and hung over. Most of the guys went to bed early. The others ordered pizza and watched sports on TV.
    I stood in the kitchen, sliding a piece of pepperoni pizza onto a paper plate. It was from one of the club-owned restaurants in town. The pizza tasted good, but I would have preferred something healthier. 
    Martel walked past me and upstairs to his office. I took a bite of pizza and chewed on Martel’s relationship with my dad. Questions swam through my mind. I wanted to know why Martel had really brought me here. Any moron could give the kinds of tattoos most of these fuckers wanted.
    The more time I spent with them the more I realized that the majority of the guys that hung around the club were lackeys or hangers-on. The inner circle consisted of only a few guys, Martel being at the center of them all.
    I let my pizza plate slide into the overflowing garbage can and headed upstairs. Soft moans and the sound of a headboard rhythmically knocking against a wall leaked from behind a closed door. The smell of cigarette smoke and pot smoke wafted through the hallway.
    Martel’s office door was slightly ajar at the end of the hall. I pushed it open and leaned into the frame, letting him see me standing there. He was bent over a business ledger. He glanced up at me through reading glasses perched on the end of his nose.
    With his salt-and-pepper gray hair and plain black shirt, he looked almost like a regular businessman sitting behind his desk.
    “What is it, Cruz?” he asked, not showing irritation but not showing kindness either.
    “I want a word with you.”
    “Alright. Come in and shut the door.”
    I pulled the door closed behind me and sauntered into his office. I puffed up my chest and spread my shoulders to their full width. Settling into the chair with easy confidence, I rested my elbows on the arms and pressed my hands together in a V. I wasn’t going to let him think I was intimidated or afraid of a fight.
    “Yes?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
    “Well, Martel, here’s the thing. I shouldn’t be here.”
    Martel looked at me blankly and leaned back, cocking his head to the side. He crossed his arms and sized me up. I tapped my index fingers together, not letting him see that my heart rate had jumped.
    “From where I’m sitting, you should be wherever the fuck I tell you to be.”
    “Is that right?”
    “That’s right.”
    “You want to tell me how you knew my father?”
    I could see the surprise in his face even though he tried to hide it. I had him by the balls. I knew my dad meant something to him. He sighed and rested his forehead in his hand, then leaned back to stare at me again.
    “Who told you?”
    “No one.”
    “How did you know?”
    “Does it matter?” I shot back.
    He sighed and turned his head to look out the window to the side of his desk. “A long time ago, before you were born. After we served in the military in the eighties and came back to an economic recession, your dad and I used to ride together. We were rogues back then. We played by our own rules. No affiliations to any clubs; we even made our own vest. He and I did a lot of jobs together. Got into a lot of shit. Your dad was a good man. A good friend.
    “I met my old lady, moved north, and got involved with the Black Blades. Your dad stayed in LA. Before he died, he asked me to look after you.”
    “So your way of looking after your buddy’s kid is to send your goon squad to blackmail me?”
    “I needed a way to get you up here. I knew you wouldn’t come on your own.”
    “Why the hell do you want me