Page 87 of In the Light of Sin

“Did he pop your tattoo cherry?” Knight questioned, but I let the silence answer him before he let out a low whistle. “Figured you’d have another one.”

“I did,” I admitted. One of the first things I got when I turned eighteen and got my first paycheck. I wanted a barbed wire around my bicep. It was the most badass thing I could think of, and I was just an irrational, impulsive teen looking to rebel against parents who frowned upon any amount of body ink.

The two of them looked at me with curious eyes before Tyrant couldn’t help but ask, “What do you mean did?”

This was the first and only tidbit of information I’d share about my past with them. It was obvious, one look at my exposed arms, and you could see the bumpy, scarred skin. It was where my barbwire tattoo used to be. “Hard to keep a tattoo when the skin melted off.”

“Jesus,” Knight muttered.

“Don’t let the skin get melted where I put this one,” he preached, and I rolled my eye. Didn’t want to experience that again. “I spent a lot of time on it.”

I narrowed my eye suspiciously. “You were just supposed to put a J.” He began to whistle innocently, pretending to be preoccupied with cleaning his station. “What did you do?”

I ran as fast as my legs would take me to the mirror, flinging my hoodie off my head, and looked at my chest, the extra detailing turning my skin cold. They could see my face now, ugly imperfections I had yet to accept, but my anger trumped those feelings, especially since they had seen it during my tattoo session when I was unconscious. “Tyrant!”

“What,” he feigned. “You don’t like?”

“You’re not gonna like what I’m gonna do to you.” Forgetting my hoodie, I strode over to him as he rushed around his parlor seat, him laughing like this was a damn joke.

“Gonna fight me?” He tapped the digital watch on his wrist, “Don’t you got some more things to do for yours and Joslyn’s cabin?”

I stilled. “How the fuck—”

“You still write your to-do list on paper.” He dangled the piece of paper, grinning like it was his favorite toy. “Dude, it’s the twenty-first century. Use the notes app on your phone like a normal fuckin’ person.”

I tried to snatch it away from him, but he pulled it away. Was there even a point? “Don’t fuckin’ tell her any of this. It’s a surprise.”

“You bein’ a romantic?” Knight laughed in disbelief, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. This was out of character for me. They only knew me as the man who never showed his face and intimidated our enemies with my fists.

Now I was half naked, my face exposed in their tattoo shop.

“I still remember the one time at Calypso that chick was tryin’ to get with ya. You kept pushing her off, and she pretended to get dizzy and fall.” He started laughing, hunching over and grabbing the counter for support. “And you just let her.”

Yeah, then that bitch had the audacity to say it was my fault. I didn’t accept any of her obvious advances. It wasn’t my fault she couldn’t take the damn hint. I was showing her that I wasn’t interested.

Joslyn’s the only girl I’d ever been interested in for more than a damn night.

I sighed, giving up going over to put my hoodie back on when Tyrant’s words hit me, “We’re just givin’ ya shit, brother. Happy you’re actin’ like an asshole instead of a fuckin’ asshole lately. It’s not a huge improvement, but I’ll take it.” I heard the amusement in his voice. “Also, you’re a handsome fucker brother.”

I should’ve just done the tattoo myself.

* * *

My arms were throbbing, and my chest stung as I pulled up to Poppy Oaks. I was exhausted, having put in a week’s worth of work in just a few hours. I blew out a breath, hoping it was worth it.

She better love it; I’d hate to have to burn my fucking cabin I built from the ground up and start over somewhere else.

Joslyn ran out the front door when she heard me pull up. She was carrying a backpack that looked like it was going to bust open at any second. I stood up, reaching a hand out, and she looked at it confused. “Backpack.”

She sighed in relief and let the straps slide down her arms, handing it over to me. It was fucking heavy. What did she put in this thing, bricks? I saw her smile tinged with exhaustion, but her eyes reminded me of a dimly lit street light, trying to put in the effort but was flickering for reasons beyond her control. Grim and Nyla walked out of the door shortly after, Nyla locking it behind her. Grim dipped his chin at me. “Brother.”

I didn’t respond, looking at Joslyn. “Gotta go to the clubhouse.”

“What for?”

“Gotta talk to Vic.” Her and Libby were helping me with some things since Victoria begrudgingly knew where my damn place was.

“Why don’t you just call her?” When I didn’t answer, she laughed, probably picturing the look I was giving her under the darkness of my hood. Fucking hated phones. I’d rather talk to someone through messenger pigeon. I only talked to people I deemed necessary and worth my time. Only had Prez, Grim’s, and Joslyn’s contact in my phone. That was it.

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