Page 29 of The Tattoo Artist

“Yes, please, Mike. And another one for Ares, please. Oh, and can I also get the...sorry, one second,” I say, trying to read something off the menu.

“Can you hurry the fuck up!” I hear someone from behind us shout impatiently. My hands begin to shake in response to the sudden aggression. In an instant, Ares shifts his position, standing tall and assertive. He turns his head, his gaze piercing into the group of guys who were shouting at me. Their eyes widen in fear as they see him. “Sorry, Ares... we never saw you... and... her...”

“Get out of my face,” Ares says in a low, dangerous tone, causing the guys to quickly leave the area. A sense of relief washes over me as I see Ares take control of the situation but why did they fear him?

“You want the dip?” Mike asks, trying to change the topic. I nod my head, my heart still racing from the earlier confrontation. “That will be fifteen dollars all together,” Mike says, and I open my bag to get my purse.

But before I can take out the money, Ares stretches his hand over my shoulder and pays for the meal. I turn around with furrowed brows. “I thought this was on me.”

“When I’m around, that purse stays inside that bag,” he says with a hint of a smile.

“Ares.” I warn him.

“Butterfly.”

We collect our food and find a free table next to the window. I slip off my jacket and put my things to the side. Ares sits opposite me, and I open my wrap with a smile, dipping it into the sauce before taking a bite. Instantly, I realise something is off with the taste, but I force myself to swallow it.

“What’s wrong?” Ares asks, noticing my reaction.

“I think they put too much spice in the sauce,” I say, trying to hide my discomfort.

Holding out my sandwich to him, he chuckles leaning forward.

His hands cover my wrist as he takes a bite from my food, biting a bit of my finger, I gasp as he pulls away. His jaw moving to swallow the food. “I said the food, not my finger. And look, you spilt sauce all over it.”

He takes my hands and sucks onto my fingers; I felt his warm tongue. “Not anymore.” He smirks. I watch him, wondering if he can handle the spice, but he seems unfazed. “It’s not that bad,” he says, a small smirk playing on his lips.

He hands me his sandwich, and a warm smile spreads across my face as we switch. The taste of his sandwich is surprisingly delightful, and I take the moment of sharing this simple yet intimate gesture with Ares.

“I know this might be the wrong time to bring it up...” I whisper, and I see a slight shift in Ares’ demeanour. His eyes locks with mine, and I can sense that he knows exactly what I’m referring to. He leans back a little, his tongue poking out from the inside corner of his mouth as he seems lost in thought. “About the girl?”

After a moment of contemplation, he leans forward again, resting both elbows on the table. His dark eyes study me intently, and I feel a flutter of nerves in my stomach.

“Let me tell you something, Alexandra,” he says, his voice soft yet powerful, captivating my attention completely. “What happened that night...” Ares begins, his voice trailing off as he seems to choose his words carefully. “It’s a complicated story, butterfly. One that I’m not sure I’m ready to share completely.”

I nod, understanding the gravity of his words.

There’s a hint of pain in his eyes, something that he’s carrying with him, and I sense that he’s been through things I can’t even begin to comprehend.

“Is she dead?” I ask in a whisper, settling down my food.

Why would you ask that! God!

There was something about the way he looks at me, he nodded his head and looks away from me. “Yeah, she died.” He answers me, “she was everything to me…and now she’s gone.” I feel my eyes tearing up, God, I always had a soft spot for this. I gently takes his hands in mine; he glances at me as I squeeze it for comfort.

“I’m sorry for your loss Ares…”

He sits up properly, removing his hand from mine before standing. “We should get going.” He speaks.

Part of me regretted asking but another part of me wanted to confirm if it was true. It wasn’t online, and I didn’t want to just assume. I didn’t want to believe the rumours. I wanted to believe him. But does he not understand how hard this is for me?

I straighten up, slinging my bag over my shoulders and sliding my jacket over my arm. As I grab the rubbish and place it in the bin, Ares stands up, takes my hand, and walks. I wave farewell to Mike, who smiles back before his expression drops as Ares walks by. Mike grabs Ares’ arm, and I come to a halt, turning to look at them.

I overhear a few murmurs. “She’s a good girl...please don’t-” Ares rips his arm free from Mike’s grip, and I can see the tension in his jaw as he speaks, his back facing me.

Mike seems hesitant, his eyes shifting between me and Ares.

Ares towers over Mike, his presence commanding and intimidating. He’s clearly a head taller than most people, and there’s a certain aura of power and strength that surrounds him. His build and height give him an air of authority, and it’s clear that he’s not someone to be trifled with. As Ares makes his way towards me, he reaches out and interlocks his hands with mine. We start walking back to the car, and I steal a glance at Mike, who shakes his head at me and mouths, “he’s dangerous.”

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