Page 25 of The Tattoo Artist

Mrs. Johnson continues to praise her son, Clark, who was studying medicine and apparently excelling at it. I try to engage in the conversation, but to be fair-I just wasn’t interested. The conversation carried on, Clark leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You are very beautiful, Alexandra,” he whispers.

“Uh, thank you,” I reply, trying to keep my composure.

“Your lips bleeding.” He points out, I gently brush a finger and hold it back-noticing the blood. “You should get that cleaned up.” I stand up from the couch and head to the kitchen, I grab some tissue from the dining table and dab it against my lips.

He might as well have taken my mouth with him.

Mr. Johnson steps into the kitchen, his presence making me slightly uncomfortable. He had a striking resemblance to his son, with his strawberry hair and strong brown eyes. He was dressed in a navy suit, with a pink handkerchief peeking out of his pocket. I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of unease around him. He walks towards the open bottle of wine and pours himself a glass, looking back at me every now and then.

“Are you okay, Alex?” He asks, concern evident in his voice.

I forced a smile and nodded.

“I’m fine, Mr. Johnson, nothing to worry about,” I answer, taking a step towards the door to return to the living room. But his hand stops me, preventing me from going any further. He steps closer, his breath near my ear as he seemed to inhale my scent. It is an unnerving moment, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort. His hand rested on my lower back, and I felt a wave of unease wash over me.

He was old enough to be my father, and his behaviour was making me uneasy. “I remember you when you were a kid, so small-so innocent.” he whispered, his voice sending shivers down my spine. “You used to love sitting on my lap you know.”

What the fuck?

His hand lingers on my back, and I felt trapped.

“Let go of me,” I manage to say, my voice trembling slightly. Mr. Johnson let out a soft chuckle, and his hand finally fell away from the door, back to his side. I quickly move away, making my way back to the living room, hoping to put some distance between us.

My hands rub onto my arm as I re-joined the conversation, all the sparks created by Diávolos have now been blown out.

And now I just want to run up to my room and cry from that awkward conversation.

CHAPTER NINE

ALEXANDRA JONES

WE STEPPED INTO THE TATTOO PARLOUR.

The receptionist, Aliza, gave me a piercing stare. Her tight vest top accentuated her tattoos, and a row of silver necklaces adorned her neck, giving her a fierce and edgy look. What does this woman have against me? She looks at me as if I have stolen her man or something, and trust me, she should worry around Catherine for that.

“Hey, Aliza. Is Ares ready to tattoo my sexy legs?” Cathy chimed in; her voice filled with excitement. Aliza nods and points us to Ares’ room, all the while giving me lingering glares that made me uncomfortable. I follow Cathy down the narrow hallway, memories of the last time I was here flooding my mind. As we reach Ares’ door, Cathy pushes it open, and Ares looked up, his eyes locking with mine. There was something about his gaze that made my heart race, and I quickly looked away, settling down in the corner of the room. I didn’t want to act as if we were best friends in front of Catherine, I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable or anything.

Cathy confidently declared, “ready for my sexy legs, Ares? I need you to make it look amazing because I have a date.” I watch as Ares put on latex gloves and gently cleaned the back of her thighs, making sure the area was prepared for the tattoo.

Envy surged through me as he touched her with such familiarity.

I wanted him to touch me like that.

However, I don’t really have a right to be jealous after my kiss with Diávolos last night. For some reason, I regret it. I wanted it to be Ares. I want Ares to kiss me like that, not Diávolos. The sound of the tattoo machine filled the room, and I tried to avert my eyes as Ares began his work. It was hard to watch him in such close proximity to another woman, and my mind couldn’t help but wander into thoughts of his touch.

“I thought this would be more painful,” Cathy whispers, her voice strained from the sensation.

I smiled, trying to distract myself from my feelings. “Guess you can handle everything.”

As Ares continued his work, Cathy mentioned the events of the previous day. “Anyways, what happened yesterday?” She asked.

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to reveal too much. “Nothing much, just a boring dinner. Although, Mr. Johnson was acting a little weird...”

I could sense Ares listening to our conversation, and there was a momentary pause in his movements.

“Weird?”

“Or I was just overthinking, but I was uncomfortable, I just hate having them around.” I whisper honestly.

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