Page 28 of Tattooed Love

“I spoke to the chapter this morning. Even after some explaining, they weren’t too happy. So, you aren’t a member anymore. Your slate is clean.” Blake said, and I could hear hisdisappointment.

I think deep down, he was hoping they wouldn’t let me go, and our unhealthy relationship would just go back to the way it was before he used me as a punching bag.

How should I respond to that?

“Oh” was all my brain could come up with.

Why was I feeling like this?

“Clean slate,” I whispered to myself softly.

Did I even want one?

I suddenly felt two muscular arms wrap themselves around me. I inhaled that familiar scent.

I pulled my hand away from the door and wrapped my arms around his back.

“Fuck…” he let out softly in my hair.

“I know,” I replied softly. I knew exactly what he was thinking.

Holding onto him tightly, I wanted this moment to last forever.

So we didn’t have to really say good bye, did we?

He pulled away, taking a step back, putting distance between us.

His hands dropped to his sides and he stood there staring at me.

“You can get the tattoo covered; I know a guy in the city,” he finally spoke, deadpan.

My eyes didn’t drop from his.

“I am not getting it removed,” I replied.“I know what it means, s but it means something different to me.”

Our eyes were still locked.

“It’s a mark of the HellBound, Amber,” he cautioned.

“But, to me, it’s a symbol of our love. What we were.” I straightened my shoulders up and said with more determination. “It’s a symbol of our memories. I won’t and can’t remove it. It’s… us.” It was an easy decision, really.

I broke eye contact, closing my eyes to take a deep breath.

Opening my eyes, I watched as Blake nodded his head.

His right cheek caught my eye, and I looked at it closely. It was swollen.

‘What happened to your cheek?” I asked.

“Disagreement,” he answered, pulling his shoulders back and standing taller, defensively. Iknew that stance. He did that when he was faced with a threat. That look on his face told me that right now, he was furious, but it wasn’t directed at me.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Jax shirtless, standing in the middle of the staircase glaring at me and Blake.

I let out an annoyed groan, and stepped forward onto the porch, slamming the front door shut behind me.

“Sorry, this is the wanker my father has staying with us,” I explained to Blake.

But anger consumed his face. His expression told me he didn’t believe me.

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