Chapter 43: 1


    Aspen Colorado, ten yearster…


    Mackenzie stood in the bridal shop watching her bride Alice Carter trying on hr fiftieth dress that day.


    They had been to every bridal shop in Colorado in thest week, and the woman still wasn’t satisfied.


    To say Alice Carter was a nightmare bride would be an understatement. Alice looked in the mirror with


    the staff standing around her fussing over the hem, praying she liked this one.


    Alice was a ne woman who thought she was Beyoncé. “I don’t like this one,” she said. Mackenzie


    rolled her eyes, big surprise. “It makes my arms look jiggly.”


    “Don’t me the dress,” Mackenzie muttered under her breath


    “Excuse me?” Alice asked, turning around.


    Mackenzie smiled, “I said, bring out the next dress. Please, this one certainly will never do,” which


    seemed to satisfy Alice as she returned her attention to her reflection.


    Mackenzie had been working as an event nner for thest four years, and she had be very


    good at it. She was now the top event nner in Colorado. She nned everything from bar mitzvahs


    to borate weddings. Most of her business was at weddings. nning weddings had left Mackenzie


    disillusioned with love. She had seen too many women only in it for the money and been hit on by so


    many of her grooms. She could usually tell how long these marriages wouldst based on their vows.


    So many of them wanted to write their vows, and they were almost always cheesy and hooky.


    She liked to keep tabs on her couples after their weddings to see if she was right about how long it


    wouldst. She almost had it down to a science. Mackenzie spent the next four hours helping Alice in


    and out of dresses while she poopooed each of them. After a long day of getting absolutely nowhere,


    Mackenzie said goodnight to her client and sat in her car in the parking lot. After a day like this, she


    needed to rx. She had just the thing too. Mackenzie had heard about an excellent tattoo artist, and


    she had booked an appointment with him to get a new tattoo. And her appointment was in an hour. She


    couldn’t wait.


    Têxt ? N?velDrama.Org.


    ***


    Gordon leaned on the counter, his hand over his right side. He could still feel the bruising beneath the


    skin healing. Melissa had done a number on him two days ago, and while on the surface, he was fine,


    beneath the skin, he still had some mending to do. Another day and he should be good. It was a good


    thing he was Lycanthrope of his wife might have killed him long ago.


    The chime above his door rang, alerting him that he had customers. He stood tall and put on a false


    smile. He walked around the corner to the main desk to greet his appointment. Gordon was surprised


    to see a beautiful young woman. She was dressed in a ssy woman’s suit that made her look


    powerful and influential. Her long blond hair hung in curls down her back, and her make-up made her


    blue eyes pop. She was tall for a woman with amazingly long legs and curves that could put the


    backroads to shame.


    This woman was a whole other breed from his typical biker clientele. She smiled at him. “I’m looking for


    Gordon Wilder.”


    “You found him. You must be my 4:00 pm appointment.”


    “Mackenzie Starr,” she offered him her perfectly manicured hand. Gordon wiped his ink-stained hands


    on his dirty jeans and then took her hand and shook it.


    “Come on back,” he suggested. Mackenzie followed him to the back room, where he gestured for her to


    take a seat in the tattoo chair. “What were you looking for?”


    “I was hoping to get a phoenix rising from the ashes on my side right on the ribs,” she said, taking her


    seat.


    “Ok. Do you have any other tattoos?”


    “No, this would be my first.”


    “How big do you want it?”


    “My whole side.”


    “That is going to be expensive.”


    “I can pay.”


    “Well, I must warn you that tattooing on the ribs is extremely painful. A lot of people tap out. Given this


    is your first, I would suggest another spot. Somece a little fattier than directly atop bone.”


    “Like where?”


    “Well,” hum, he thought for a moment, looking her over. He didn’t think this girl had any fat on her body.


    She looked like a real-life Barbie doll. “Take off your jacket and your blouse,” he instructed. She looked


    at him questioningly. “I want to see the canvass so I can decide the best cement,” he offered her a


    grin. “Don’t worry. I won’t take advantage.”


    Mackenzie removed her suit jacket, offering it to Gordon, who hung it up. He then watched as her


    slender fingers released one tiny white button of her blouse free one after the next until the silk fell


    open. She shrugged it off, and he had an unobstructed view of those full round breasts contained in a


    sexy littlecy white cage-style bra. Wow, he could not stop staring. “I was thinking right here,” she


    said, running her right hand over her left side from hip to just below her the band of her bra.


    Gordon was doing his best not to seem like a creepy old man. This woman was half his age and clearly


    worlds out of his league. Plus, he was a married man. Gordon reached out and ran his hand over her


    side, trying to judge the skin. Wow, her skin was soft, and she smelled like orange blossoms. Removing


    his hand from her person, Gordon cleared his throat and began to gather his supplies. “I’ll draw up a


    stencil, and if you like it, we can get started.”


    “Can I button up my shirt now?” Gordon stood there, staring at her with a smile. “Well?” She asked with


    a chuckle.


    “I’m thinking,” sheughed, and he nodded. “Yeah, go ahead and cover-up,” he said, sitting down at his


    light table so he could draw up a stencil.


    “Have you been doing this long?”


    “thirty years. “I started apprenticing in a shop when I was fifteen. Been doing this ever since.”


    “You must be excellent. Youe highly rmended.”


    “I’m d to hear it,” he said as he went about his drawing. Gordon was a fast drawer. He was


    imaginative, and when he put ink to paper, he flew through it.


    “So, do you own the shop, or are you just an employee?”


    “I own it. It’s just me working here,” he said. “What about you? What do you do? You’re a little ssier


    than the guys that usually walk in here.”


    “I am an event nner. I work mostly weddings.”


    “You must be good at your job. Your clothes look expensive.”


    “I’m the top event nner in Aspen.”


    “Good for you.”


    “Do you think I could get a ss of water?”


    “Sure,” he said, pointing to a mini-fridge. “There are a few untouched bottles in there,” Mackenzie slid


    off her chair and walked to the fridge. She bent over to retrieve a bottle, and Gordon couldn’t look


    away. She had an amazing ass.


    They sat in silence while he finished his stencil, and when he showed it to her, she lit up. “That is


    gorgeous? How much?”


    “$150/hour. I bill you at the end of each session.”


    “How many sessions do you need?”


    “Depends on how well you sit. It could be six hours. Could be twelve.”


    “Ok, then let’s get started,” she said, removing her toppletely.


    Sheid out on the tattoo chair on her side. Gordon pulled his stool and supply trolley up as close as he


    could, then he prepared the location and applied the stencil. He ran his hands over her skin a few


    times, making sure things were the way he liked them; then, he positioned his light source and picked


    up his tattoo machine.


    “Ok, this may hurt a little. If you start feeling dizzy or nauseated, you tell me immediately, and we will


    take a break,” Gordon said as he began. If you like, there is a remote on the stand next to you. He then


    took a moment to point to a small TV. “You can watch something to kill time.”


    “You said you have been doing this for 30 years. You don’t look that old.”


    Heughed. “I’m old enough to be your father.”


    “You’re a lot cuter than my father,” Gordon looked up at those shing wild eyes of hers. Was she


    coming on to him? He had not expected that. Gordon was not from her cultured world. He was a rough


    and unkempt middle-aged biker who hadn’t seen a razor in two weeks. His ebony hair was long and


    tied back sloppily. His jeans were old, worn, and dirty. His shirt was outdated, and his leather jacket


    hung up on the hook next to her suit jacket.


    “Then, you must get your looks from your mother,” he smiled and continued to form his outline.


    They sat and talked about the show on TV. Gordon never looked up. Once he found his rhythm, he was


    focused. The tattoo wasing together quite nicely. When the rm on his wristwatch went up, he


    proceeded to clean up. He had worked for two hours. “OK,” he said, wiping the site down and cleaning


    it up so he could wrap it. “We will let this heal for a few days,” once she wrapped up, Mackenzie


    dressed and followed him to the counter. He looked through his schedule. “We could book the next


    session next Monday. Another two hours. Say the same time.”


    “Alright,” she said, checking her schedule with her smartphone. She paid for today''s session, and then


    she took her business card from her wallet and jotted down something on the back. Mackenzie offered


    it to him. “Why don’t you call me, and we can have dinner,” she said as he took the card. “My private


    number is on the back.”


    Gordon could not fight the grin curving his mouth. It had been so long since a beautiful young woman


    hit on him. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he was married. Still, the fact that she wanted him was a


    nice ego stroke. He watched as she left the room, and Gordon took a moment to fantasize what it might


    have been like if he were a less than faithful man.


    She spent the next half hour cleaning up. Usually, it took a little longer, but today he just flew through it,


    which was depressing because it meant he now had to go home. Sucking it up, he got on his


    motorcycle and drove home. He was home a lot earlier than he had hoped to be, but he couldn’t put it


    off forever.


    He pulled into the drive next to a truck he recognized. Getting off his bike, he looked in through the


    driver’s window to see what was inside. This was his friend Conrad’s truck. Why was it parked here?


    Conrad hadn’t said he was popping by to see him today.


    Gordon went inside the house and looked around. There was no one on the main floor. Gordon heard


    the sound of moaninging from upstairs, so he followed the sound. He climbed their stairs and


    stopped outside his bedroom. He could hear the mattress springs and more moaning. He pushed the


    door open to find his wife naked in bed on top of his friend.


    They both panicked when they saw him. They scrabbled for their clothes, and something in Gordon


    snapped. He had suffered so many indignities at the hands of his wife, but this was thest straw. He


    wasn’t going to put up with any more of her crap. “Gordon,” Conrad stammered as he quickly got


    dressed. “This isn’t what it looks like.”


    Gordon said nothing as he red at them both. He took a calming breath, and then he spoke. “I’m


    going to leave now. I’m going into town to get good and drunk. When Ie back, neither of you are


    going to be here, and if either of you is here when I return, I will kill you.”


    He turned and started back down the hall to the stairs. Melissa came out of the bedroom with the sheet


    wrapped around her. “You can’t throw me out of my own house.”


    Gordon turned to face her. “Wrong, this is my house. My name is on deed, and yours isn’t, so you have


    no im to this house. Sure, if you like, you can try to take it in the divorce, but I don’t think you are


    going to get it.”


    “Divorce?” Melissa gasped. “You can’t divorce me, Lycanthrope’s mate for life. It’s a tradition.”


    “It’s time for tradition to change.”


    “I won’t let you,” she growled. Her hand flew up to strike him, but Gordon’s hand closed around her


    wrist and stopped her assault. She looked surprised that he stood up to her.


    “You don’t get to do that anymore,” he snarled his eyes, beginning to glow. “You don’t ever get to hit me


    again. I’m done taking your crap. If you are here when Ie back, I will forget how I was raised and


    rip your fucking throat out,” he let her go and took a step back. “Consider yourself warned,” he then


    started down the stairs.


    “Where am I supposed to go?” Melissa yelled down the stairs at him.


    “I don’t care,” starting tonight, the world was going to see a whole new Gordon.