Artist by Juli Valenti

Author:Juli Valenti [Valenti, Juli]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 2940156671601
Amazon: B017QPOKMA
Barnesnoble: B017QPOKMA
Goodreads: 27233106
Publisher: Juli Valenti
Published: 2015-11-07T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Within two weeks, Artist fell into a routine. Wake up, work out, club business, go to work, get home, and go to bed with Shakespeare. She’d long since stopped sleeping in her bed, her head not hitting the pillow alone since the morning she’d been initiated into Hells Redemption. Shakespeare had practically moved her into his room, complete with closet and drawer space, which suited her just fine.

Teagan was able to go home, but rather than stay at her apartment, where she usually lived when not lingering around the club, she stayed at the clubhouse. The boys had spent an entire day clearing a room for her, decorating it how they thought she would like, and then helped her move into it. Artist wasn’t sure if it was guilt, or genuine concern for her, but her friend was close and she wasn’t about to argue with them.

As for the bastards who shot her, the club was still deep into looking for the exact culprits. The entire club was on high alert daily, each man keeping one eye firmly on his brother’s back. The Diablos Hermanos declaration of war was never far from their thoughts, though nothing had happened as of yet. In fact, most of the DH were practically ghosts, none being seen since the day the shooting went down.

Shakespeare, especially, was taking the lack of information hard. As VP and computer security guru, he took his position seriously, and felt it was his job to get the answers they were all looking for. But, so far, he’d come up empty handed. Even Branka had disappeared off the face of the planet. All the club could gather was either they were deep in hiding, running scared, or they were planning something big. Hells Redemption had to be prepared for both.

The bells over the shop door chimed, pulling Artist’s attention away from her workstation she’d been cleaning. To her surprise, Titan stood in the entry, his face hooded but a tentative smile on his face as he walked toward her.

“Titan,” she said in greeting, confused as to why he was there. The last time he’d been in her shop he’d put a hole in the wall, which she still hadn’t gotten fixed completely, and gotten into a childish brawl with her boyfriend. Boyfriend? She chuckled to herself; it seemed like such an immature word.

“’Ili,” he returned, tilting his head to look at her, “do I have something on my face?” When she merely looked at him, he elaborated. “You laughed.”

“Sorry. A thought popped into my head and struck me as funny.”

“Care to share?”

“Nah. What’s up, brother? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

They’d been in contact of course, sharing the occasional text message to catch up, and she’d seen him with Poet for a joint club dinner a week ago, but they hadn’t really spoken. Artist was still irritated with his attitude, and he hadn’t exactly jumped on the apology bandwagon.

“I saw the ink you did on Train … some pretty badass shit, sister.

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