Home > Nash (Marked Men #4)(18)

Nash (Marked Men #4)(18)
Author: Jay Crownover

The client paid and told me how deliriously happy she was with her zombified kitty as I showed her out and locked the door behind her.

“You’ve been pulling some crazy hours lately, dude.”

To make his point even more obvious I yawned and had to crack my neck.

“It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have been acting like such a douche canoe last week.”

“That was some heavy shit to deal with.”

“Yeah, but I’m a grown-ass man. I was acting like a baby.”

“No one blames you.”

No they didn’t, but they should have. It took Saint showing up and telling me to pull my head out of my ass to see beyond my own churning feelings and Rule strong-arming me into acting right.

“What are you doing here so late?” I asked as I started to straighten my station up.

“I was looking for you. I stopped at the hospital to see Phil and he mentioned the new shop. That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do about it, though.”

He chuckled and leaned on the front desk while I wiped things down with strong antiseptic.

“Well, I don’t know shit about hiring a new staff, and thinking you’re going to find someone to replace Cora is a pipe dream. That mold didn’t just break, it got shattered into a million pieces on the floor. The world couldn’t handle more than one of her.”

I laughed because he was right, and stood up so I could crack my back. I sounded like I was falling apart.

“True.”

“I know a guy, he does custom renovations and stuff like that. He’s a good dude, one of my clients actually. I just wanted to let you know I had a name when it comes to getting the place ready to be turned into a tattoo shop.”

“Who is it?”

“Zeb Fuller.”

I had heard the name before. Zeb was a fellow car guy. He had an old International that he took to the same mechanic I used whenever the beast had something wrong with it I couldn’t handle on my own.

“Cool. I’ll keep him in mind. I haven’t even made it down there yet. Between trying to catch up here and spend time with Phil, I’m just running in circles.”

Not to mention even though I knew she wanted me to steer clear of her, I was still silently searching for Saint every time I stepped inside the hospital doors. So far I hadn’t had any luck, but that didn’t stop me from looking for her.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that, and Rule is all in super-groom mode. Oh, how things have changed around this place in the last few years. I remember when we were all about a good time and a few cold ones.”

“Hey, I still am.” My argument was halfhearted at best. I was too tired for a good time.

He laughed at me and rolled his ocean-colored eyes.

“No way, Nash. Our entire crew is getting married and having babies, we’re all growing up and settling down.”

Rowdy was the youngest of our band of brothers, so it was funny hearing this coming from him. I hit the lights and pulled a black beanie on over my shaved head.

“Had to happen sometime, I guess, but marriage and babies …” I made a face. “Not for me.”

“We’ll see, brother. We’ll see. Honestly, none of that was really why I tracked you down. I have an idea I want to run by you for the new shop.”

Rowdy was an interesting guy. He was funny, the jokester of the group, but he also had a lot going on under the surface. I think that’s why he and Jet were so tight, there was so much more going on there than most people took at face value. He was way more into the art of what we did for a living than the rest of us were. I think underneath his tremendous hair, perfectly groomed chops, and jovial persona lurked the soul of a truly artistic man. I appreciated it, and him, so if he had an idea I was more than willing to give it a chance. Plus it had to matter a lot to him if he was approaching me after everyone else had cleared out for the day.

“Shoot.”

I was a little surprised to see he looked a bit nervous. There was a little flush of pink behind that big-ass tattoo of an anchor he rocked on the side of his neck.

“Cora mentioned there was an empty space on the top floor of the new space that had offices and stuff. I think you should turn it into a store. Keep the tattoo shop and the piercing stuff downstairs, but upstairs you should consider selling stuff … like our own brand. More than just T-shirts and shit like we do now. I also think it might be a profitable idea to showcase some original art by the artists. Like Rule did that mural in the man cave for those rich guys and the way you did the back of that restaurant in graffiti on Broadway. People would buy it, and in that location you guys could charge an arm and a leg for it.”

I could only stare at him. He must have taken my stunned surprise the wrong way because he shrugged and lifted a tattooed hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Or not. It was just an idea.”

I blinked and reached out to shove him in the center of his chest with my palm.

“A f**king brilliant idea. Goddamn, dude, Phil should have left you in charge of this new project. I had no idea you were so business savvy.”

We walked out the front door and entered into the cold Colorado air. The chill sucked the breath out of my lungs and made me shiver inside my hoodie.

“I just watched what Rome and Asa did with that dive of a bar they ended up running and I thought we should try and up our game some as well. I love this place, love what we do, so why not take it to the next level?”

“That means whoever we hire to manage these shops in place of Cora is going to have to be a perfect fit. You don’t happen to know anyone that can fill that role, do ya?”

I automatically patted the pocket of my hoodie looking for a smoke and almost threw a fit when I came up empty. Quitting sucked and I sucked at quitting, but I was trying hard, and every time I saw Phil in that bed it made it a little bit easier.

Rowdy shook his blond head and pulled the collar of his quilted flannel up around his neck.

“Nope, but you’ll find someone. You have great instincts about people and Rule is like the gatekeeper from hell, not to mention whoever you hire has to pass the Cora test. You need to give yourself some credit, Nash. This is Phil’s life, his legacy … of course you’re the only one he would trust with it. We’re family, he wanted you to carry on the tradition and keep this place a home. You’ve got this, brother. Have some faith.”

I just grunted and turned to walk to where the Charger was parked. Light flurries of snow were starting to blanket the ground.

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