Page 17 of Monster
Vincent
Six months ago
My phone blaringstartles me out of my reverie, and I pull it from my pocket and hit answer without looking to see who it is—I already know. Not many people have my number.
“Just calling to let you know I’m on my way. GPS says thirty minutes.”
“Sounds good. Come on in when you get here. I’ll be in the living room.”
He mumbles, “Okay,” and we hang up. I put my phone back into my pocket and glance out at the field again. The poppies have an even more brilliant red-orange hue with the setting sun in the background—giving me another idea.
I don’t want to leave, but I turn around and make my way back to the house to wait for Jax.
* * *
“You sure?”Jax asks me, not because he doubts me, but because he asks before every tattoo.
“Yes, I’m sure. You know this.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, but I still like to ask.” He chuckles as he finishes getting set up. He brought his entire kit, not knowing what he would need and I’m grateful because my idea changed, and I know this is going to take a while. I’m lying on my right side on my couch, but when Jax told me we could find someplace else to do it, I refused.
I want the pain. I want it all.
He finishes getting set up and moves his chair until he’s right in front of me. He grabs the metal tray and moves it closer as well.
“Ready?”
“You fucking know it,” I mumble. The pain in my right shoulder is already immense, but I grit my teeth and bear down. Without further ado, I hear the ever-familiar sound of the tattoo gun buzzing and he begins, starting at the top of my ribcage. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to relax.
* * *
“All right, I’m done,”Jax informs me as he finishes up and pulls away, but not before wiping the tattoo one last time. He sets his tattoo gun down and looks at the tattooed image with his head tilted slightly to the side. His white blonde hair shifts slightly with the turn of his head, and he quirks a brow.
“What the fuck are you staring at?” I growl as I shift into a sitting position. My entire body aches and every movement makes it worse. I grind my teeth and take a minute to breathe through the pain without making it obvious.
“Nothin’. I fuckin’ love it, dude. Not to brag or anything, but it looks badass.” He smirks and begins cleaning and putting his equipment back in his bags. I huff out a breath as I stand and without a word, make my way to the bathroom down the hall. Once I step into the room, I flick the light switch on, automatically finding my reflection in the mirror.
I meet my own gaze and quickly avert my eyes. I can’t fucking stand the man staring back at me. So, instead, I look down at the tattoo now covering the entire span of my ribs. From the first rib down to my hip bone and extending outwards toward my chest and back are a multitude of poppies. Dozens of the red-orange flowers surrounded by dark shadows now grace my body and they all surround a single fucking word—baby doll.Because now, the one place that had ever been mine and mine alone, is now tainted with her presence, with her memory.
I wanted something on my skin that would forever remind me of the one girl who irrevocably changed me. For better and for worse—mainly the latter. Only because before, I had everything. And now? I have nothing but an empty fucking shell of a heart she dug out from within the deepest pits of myself and then left me to die.
I clench my fists, my short nails biting into the skin of my palms—another fucking thing that reminds me of Essa. I take one last look at myself before stomping my way out of the bathroom. Once I’m back in the living room, I see Jax is almost completely packed and ready to go. I fish out a handful of hundreds I grabbed from my safe earlier and slap them in his palm.
He doesn’t even bother to count them as he says, “You know this is too much.”
“Yeah. And?” I ask with a shrug of my shoulders that I immediately regret. “You did a good job and you earned it. Not a big deal,” I huff.
“Um. Okay, I guess.” Jaxon chuckles lightly as he picks up the bandage to cover my tattoo. I step up to him and he sticks it to my skin, covering the entire span of my tattoo and rubs it lightly to make sure it sticks.
“You know how it works. Leave it on for at least a couple days and when it falls off, wash it and lotion.” I nod my head in acknowledgement and he smiles, grabbing his bags to leave. When he’s almost to the door, he turns around to look at me. “Hope you get her back,” he states, then pulls the door open and he’s gone. And I’m alone again.
Yeah. Me fucking too.
