Page 56 of The Tattoo Artist

Alexandra (8:07pm): Ares, can you pick me up please.

I take a seat beside Catherine, her head dropping onto my shoulder as she begins to sniffle. A wave of emotion washes over me, and I find tears welling up in my eyes. What if that necklace held something for him? Now it feels like everything has been thrown away.

As I wrestle with my thoughts, frustration begins to bubble up inside me, mingling with the sadness that hangs heavy in the air. And yet, even as I grapple with my own emotions, I can’t help but feel a growing irritation towards Catherine,

Ares (8:11pm): send me your location.

We wait patiently for Ares after I sent him my location, my fingers rushing through my hair. The sound of tires on the road breaks the silence, and the bright headlights pierce through the darkness, heralding his approach. With a sense of eagerness tinged with apprehension, I watch intently as he steps out from behind the wheel, his presence commanding attention as he strides towards us. I stand up, his arms wrap around my waist as he hugs me. “You good butterfly?” He whispers.

“I’m fine,” I reply, mustering a faint smile. “Can you take us home, please?” His nod is all the confirmation I need, and I watch as his gaze flickers over to where Catherine sat against the wall. “She’s drunk.”

“I can tell,” Ares responds, his voice tinged with understanding as he approaches Catherine. With a gentle yet firm grip, he lifts her up from the ground, offering her support as we make our way towards the car. He guides her inside before closing the door with a resounding thud.

The journey back home is marked by a heavy silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I steal glances at Ares from the corner of my eye, observing the furrow in his brow and the tension in his shoulders.

Reaching the house, he helps me bring her up the stairs silently.

“Let me get the bath on.”

I head to the bathroom and turn the water on to fill the bathtub. Once it’s filled, I return to my room and gently pull Cathy from my bed. She groans and leans heavily against me as I guide her to sit on the closed toilet lid. Carefully, I help her out of her dirty clothes before assisting her into the warm bath.

“I’ll get you some Advil and tea for your hangover, and please stay here for fifteen minutes, okay?” I tell her, hoping the warm bath will help her feel better.

She grabs onto my hands, her expression apologetic. “Sorry about the necklace.”

“So am I,” I whisper back.

I shut the door behind me and watch as Ares looks at the collage of photos stuck on my wall. I head to my wardrobe to find some medicine, and as I’m rummaging through my belongings. I turn around, as does he.

His eyes briefly glance at my neck, and I know he’s wondering about the missing necklace. His fingers gently graze my neck, and I understand that he’s asking without saying a word - where is your necklace?

“Where is your necklace?” He finally asks, voicing the question that hangs between us.

I take a deep breath, do I lie? Wait, why do I need to lie?

“Catherine ripped it of my neck, it fell down the drain near the club.” I whisper, in the dim light, his eyes glimmer like precious gems, hinting at a hidden fire burning within. The contrast between his strong, masculine features and the softness of his gaze creates a paradox that leaves me both breathless and at ease. When he looks at me, it’s as if he sees straight into my soul, peeling away the layers of my guarded heart. The depths of his eyes seem bottomless, filled with an ocean of emotions that I long to explore.

“Guess I’ll have to give you a new one.”

I raise a brow as he steps forward, I step back, and my back collides against the shelves of my cupboard. He pushes my hair away from my shoulders, revealing my neck to his greedy eyes as he sinks his lips onto my skin.

My head falls back, and the towels that rested in one hand suddenly drops. I gently gasp as I feel his mouth pressing down on my skin like a vampire, and I softly groan. I slowly rush my fingers through the back of his dark hair and release soft moans under my breath.

His lips crawl back up as his mouth presses onto mine, “Alex?” I hear Catherine call my name, I gasp and push Ares away.

“One second.” I yell out, I bend down onto my knees and stack the towel.

Before slowly looking up, I realise I’m right near his groin, and he notices, his gaze lingering there for a moment. He crouches down, wiping the wetness off my lips with his thumb. “I prefer you on your knees,” he murmurs, his voice laced with desire.

A blush spreads across my face, and I shoot up, feeling flustered by his suggestive comment. “Stop,” I manage to whisper, my voice barely audible.

He arches an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Stop what?” He questions innocently, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what, butterfly?” He teases, the smirk on his lips deepening.

I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself despite the heat rising to my cheeks. “Stop teasing me,” I finally manage to say, my voice firmer this time. I push past him, heading to the bathroom. I push the door open and hand her a towel, she changes into the clothes I’ve given her and walks out of the bathroom.

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