Page 69 of Rogue's Path
I take off my jacket and shirt and sit down on one of the chairs we keep for when artists visit. “Not trying to.”
“That’s what makes it even more romantic. So tell me about her.”
Talking to a tattoo artist is like confessing to a priest, right? “We don’t make sense together at all.”
“You don’t need to make sense to anyone else but her. My husband and I are the last people in the world that anyonewould put together. He should have been with a woman who makes home-cooked dinners in a sweet little dress while caring for their four children in a house with a white picket fence. I’ll never be any of those things.” After she squeezes the last color into the little cups for the tattoo gun to pick up, she turns around with a disposable razor in her hand. “How big do you want it, and where?”
I point to the spot on my chest, right above where my heart beats. “Not too large. Leave room for a name.”
“Slightly larger than a silver dollar?”
That seems about right. I don’t need to worry about anything else with Rhys. “That works.”
“Alright then.” She starts to shave the spot where she’s going to apply the ink.
This is the part I hate the most.
“You can stop cringing. We haven’t gotten to the painful part yet.” She teases.
I laugh. “The pain I can handle. The itch as the hair grows back in drives me crazy.”
“You could always start waxing your chest.” She checks for stray hairs that she might have missed and then picks up the machine. “Ready?”
“Yup.” Tattoos aren’t that painful, but I can’t say that I enjoy getting them done.
“So how did you really carry her out of a bar when you first met…”
***
“There, all done. What do you think?” Rhys holds up a mirror.
“It’s perf—"
“WHERE IS MY WOMAN?” Reaper storms into the room.
Guess Bishop’s hunch was right. Slowly, I stand up, handing Rhys her mirror and placing my body between them. “I told you already. Rhys isn’t yours.”
The veins in Reaper’s head throb as he stares past me at her. “The other one. The useless one. Where is she?”
“How would I know?”
“You know everything that happens in your clubhouse.”
That I do. “She’s probably gone looking for something to eat. Have you tried looking for her?”
“That piece of trash knows better than to move when she’s told to stay put.”
This isn’t the first time he’s hurt her. “What can I say? Some men don’t know how to keep a woman happy.”
Reaper charges at me.
The click of a bullet being chambered behind me is the only sound in the room.
Rhys came prepared, it seems.
“You might want to stop now.” I keep my voice calm. “Though it would be my pleasure to smash you in the face, Rhys isn’t going to wait to see if you’re going to play by the rules or not.”
He stops. “Rhys would never hurt me.”
