Free Northern Sons by Angelica Siren Page B

get out of the ' burbs. I had to grant it to him - as nice as the old shop might have been and as rough as the neighborhood was around the place - this new shop was very inviting. It looked more like a classy art gallery than a tattoo shop. I think maybe that was one of Ronan's gripes about the place. Bikers like to get their tattoos done in a place that matches their rough image, not a gallery with state of the art appliances.
    I was anxiously waiting for Wil to ask me if I was ready or something like that, but it never happened. One moment I was sitting there, feeling the pressure and the next moment I was feeling pressure of an entirely different kind. Ronan stood beside me, holding my hand. At the time I felt like that was completely justified, though now I know he was just being sweet. It was painful and a bit shocking feeling at first, but I quickly came to understand that getting a tattoo is just not a big deal. When the tree was only half complete, I'd already become used to the sensation and was able to hold a moderately coherent conversation with Ronan while Wil worked.
    The whole thing took just over an hour. Wil works fast but he really is a master at what he does and I understand why the Druids use him whenever they get their club tattoos and anything else important. By the end of the process, when he wiped away the excess ink and let me see my new piece for the first time, I was still in a bit of shock that I'd just gotten it done. It might be just a tree and some stars to the outside observer, but I would always know what that tattoo meant to me. I'd only been in Dublin for two months, but already the importance of this place and the people I was with were so great that I felt like commemorating them for the rest of my life with a piece of art on my body. When I bent my leg towards Ronan to show him the ink, he smiled wide and I could have sworn I almost saw a tear come to his eye. He knew the meaning of the tree and the stars and he knew that I was getting the tattoo for him. It was just a tattoo, but it was also the best way I had of showing him how big a part of my life he had become.
    When we left the shop, the rain had lightened to a mere drizzle, and I was happy for it. I tied my jacket around my waist and rode with only my t-shirt to keep the small amount of rain off of me. It was a little chilly, but I didn't mind. When the wind cut into me, it made me feel even more alive. Every day with Ronan and the Druids, I felt like I was waking up and experiencing life in ways I'd never imagined possible, back in my boring life in Baltimore. Doors had been opened for me that I didn't even know where there, just a few short months ago.
    Once he knew where we were going, the ride back to my house was much faster. Ronan had chided me for hanging on to my grandmother's house for as long as I had, and he predictably teased me for the decor as well. It was never more than teasing though. The house might be full of doilies and paintings of flowers, but it was still a home and he knew better than to mock me for where I chose to live. I knew that Ronan wanted me to move into his apartment, but it still felt like too soon. I had decided that, now that all of my paperwork was finalized, I would try to sell the house. I would only leave this place when it no longer belonged to me. In that way, I would keep myself grounded as much as possible. When you are swept away in a series of exciting events like I had been, it can be easy to forget your responsibilities and just let everything slide. I wasn't about to let that happen with the house.
    Ronan pulled the bike up alongside the house and turned back to look at me. He didn't say a word, but I could tell what was on his mind.
    "Coffee?" I asked him. Of course, wherever you go in the world, you know that coffee is always more than coffee. It's an invitation to come in and enjoy your hospitality. Sometimes that means pleasant conversation. Ronan and I were well beyond the