Page 29 of Ring Around the Rosie

I watched him walk around and touch the birdhouses. “Oh? Why’s that?” I asked.

He turned and looked at me over his shoulder. “Foster doesn’t exactly mesh well with the other kids. He’s… different. Thisbe thought it would be best to isolate him a bit. So, naturally, we don’t get to participate in all the camp activities. Such as painting.” He stopped and looked around. “It sucks. I’ve always enjoyed painting.”

“You do?” I asked. Sabbath nodded, and a strange idea floated into my mind. “Well, in that case.” I grabbed a brush and dipped it into some paint. Sabbath watched me as I approached him. I couldn’t help but smile at the childish thing I was about to suggest. “Why not paint now?”

He raised a brow and plucked the paintbrush from my fingers. “Okay, spitfire. But what am I painting?” I looked around. There really wasn’t much to choose from. “What about—” I looked at the geometric tattoo on my hand. “This.”

Sabbath stared at my hand. He gently raised it and admired the delicate linework. “You’ve really added to your collection, haven’t you?” He softly ran the tip of the paintbrush along my flesh and painted in the tattoo.

He was so oddly delicate, and the way he behaved made my skin prickle. I had to control myself as a weird sensation began to stir within me. “Yes, well, tattoos have kind of become therapeutic for me.” His eyes raised. “I’d be lying if I said you didn’t fuck me up, Sabbath.” I noticed his muscles tighten. “But the pain helps. It makes me forget the hole you left inside me. Even for just a small moment in time.”

Sabbath stopped and lowered his head. “I wish tattoos could give me that same momentary release.” He grabbed a different paintbrush and leaned forward as he began to paint a rose tattoo inked along my forearm. “I’d give anything to have even a minute to breathe and just exist.”

I watched him paint my skin. He was so focused and looked more relaxed than he had this whole time. But you could sense a heavy sadness buried within him. Something he kept locked away. I wanted to know what it was.

“What did Foster mean when he said he was your replacement?” Sabbath froze. “I thought you said you were the next head of your church?” He lowered his arm and admired hiswork. I looked down and realized most of my left arm was now painted. And it was beautiful.

“You heard that, did you?” I nodded, and Sabbath smiled. “Tell you what. Since you seem to have so many damn questions, I’ll make a deal with you. For every painted tattoo, I’ll answer one question.”

I looked at my arm and counted. “Okay. So that’s, what, at least four questions?”

Sabbath shook his head. “Not those tattoos.” He then carefully peeled his camp t-shirt off and stretched his arms out along the small workshop table. My eyes immediately fell to his bare chest. Not only was it extremely tattooed, but there was more ink than skin. “These.” He pointed to his chest.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

I crossed my arm and groaned. “You would find some dumb ass way to get your shirt off.” Sabbath laughed. “So let me get this straight. I need to paint your tattoos if I want to ask you a question.” He nodded. “Seriously? Can we not have a simple conversation like two adults?”

“There’s nothing simple about us, Rosie. Why start now?”

My head ached from him.

I dropped my head into my hands and groaned loudly. “You are so fucking annoying, Sabbath.” My head rose, and he was holding a paintbrush out to me with the biggest fucking grin.

Fine. If this is the only way to get you to answer my questions, then so be it. I’m going to paint your whole fucking chest if I have to!

I snatched it and stepped forward. Sabbath stopped me. “What?” I snapped.

“It’ll be easier for both of us if you paint on your knees.” I raised a brow. “Trust me.” His eyes flickered.

God damn pervert.

I reluctantly fell to my knees and watched him adjust his posture. He slumped further back and spread his legs wide as I inched closer. By the looks of it, he was enjoying the view a little too much. Especially considering I had to lean forward to even reach his chest. I tossed my long hair over my shoulders and arched my back. If I was having to do this just to get answers, I might as well have some fun of my own. My heart fluttered a bit as I adjusted myself between his legs. He bit his lower lip and then let out a soft moan as I steadied myself, roughly pressing my hand against him.

One way or another, he’s going to answer every single one of my questions.

I silently painted in a small tattoo at the base of his neck as he played with my hair. It took everything in me to stay focused on trying to breathe normally. “There.” I smiled up at him. “One down. Now, answer my question.”

He made a face. “You would paint the smallest tattoo I have first.” He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Yes, I was the next head of my church.Was. That all changed when my dad died.”

“You mean when you killed him?”

Sabbath glared at me. “Yes,” he snarled. “When I killed him. My mother regained her position, but I was stripped of mine. Punishment for carrying the blood of my father, even if it was mixed with sacred blood. And for saving you. My mother was hysterical. Without me to take over when it came time, the church would have no choice but to choose a new heir. One from a different family.” Sabbath scoffed. “My mother refused to lose the power her family had carried for generations. So, she decided the only way to keep that power was to create a new heir.”

“Foster.”

He nodded. “Took her a few years, mostly because of her age. But also because it was a risk for both her and the father. Men didn’t exactly line up to be with her.”

“Why the father?”

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