Page 51 of Hidden Echoes

I couldn’t control it anymore.

I wanted him more than I should.

More than I was allowed. And with that want, something darker, more dangerous, crept in.

I wanted tokill her.

Zane was already staggering when we left the beach and got back to the car.

He seemed more relaxed, laughing at anything and everything, and with the bottle of tequila I had swiped from the club, he was even more excited.

"You have to really try this!" he exclaimed, opening the bottle and offering it to me.

I laughed, accepting the sip, but feeling the strong heat of the drink run down my throat. Not that it was unusual for me. It was almost a bitter reminder.

Zane, however, seemed to be feeling the effects more. "Okay, that's enough for you," I said, taking the bottle back. "You'll start seeing unicorns soon."

He laughed out loud, leaning against the car, his face relaxed. "I'll take you to the coolest places in Los Angeles!" he said suddenly, almost like a promise.

"I've seen the sea," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but there was something about his excitement that made me curious. Maybe it was because he was the first person who hadn’t looked at me with pity or disgust. He just seemed... fascinated.

"You've seen part of LA," he corrected, giving a crooked smile. "But there's so much more."

He tugged on my hand, and before I could protest, we were in the car, driven by a stranger, cruising through the brightly lit streets of the city. Each place was new to me, but there was something comforting about not knowing what to expect. Zane seemed determined to show me everything at once.

"We're going to start at one of my favorite places," he announced, making a turn a little too tight. I held myself back but ended up laughing at the look of concentration on his face.

When we finally parked, I looked around. It was a small building with a flashing neon sign that said "Zane's Tattoos." I stared at it in surprise. "Why are we on one of your studios”

“Because this one is my favorite,” he smiled, clearly proud. “I’ve worked here for years. And now you’re going to help me.”

"Help you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He got out of the car with an awkward hop and opened the door to the studio, pulling me inside. "You're going to tattoo me," he declared, as if it were the most obvious idea in the world.

I stood in the middle of the studio, surrounded by drawings on the walls and the smell of paint and antiseptic. "I've never done this before," I said, a little incredulously.

"It's easy," Zane said, grabbing one of the swivel chairs and sitting down haphazardly, still holding the bottle of tequila. "I'll teach you. It'll be fun!"

I laughed, more nervous than I wanted to admit. "You trust me like that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He replied, his eyes shining. "You don’t look like someone who does anything halfway."

He handed me the gloves and began working on the machines with expert hands. “Look, this is the needle,” he explained, showing me how to hold the equipment. “And here, you select the ink.”

I watched his every move, and even with the slight tequila buzz, something inside me stirred. The idea of marking his skin, of leaving something permanent, was strangely tempting.

"Are you ready?" I asked, trying not to sound nervous.

"I was born ready," he replied, laughing.

With my hands a little shaky, I began the process. Zane guided me patiently, explaining how the pressure of my hand influenced the intensity of the line, how the ink penetrated the skin. He seemed relaxed, and at some point, his laughter made me feel at ease too.

I ended up drawing something simple: a small flower near his shoulder. Nothing fancy, but it was my first drawing, and seeing the trust he had in me was unexpectedly comforting.

"Perfect," he said when I was done, his eyes still half-sleepy from the drink, but clearly satisfied.

"Perfect? Really?" I looked at the drawing and, despite its simplicity, there was something almost symbolic about that flower. Something that meant more than I imagined.

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