Page 11 of Inked Desires
“Bar after?”
Tempting, but I still have work.
“No, too much to do today,” I answer.
He grumbles, then I hear the door creak as he heads to the counter.
I ignore their conversation and focus on cleaning my space. The bell rings, snapping me out of my trance. Every corner of the room is spotless, like I never worked here.
I go to the front, pull a key from my pocket, and place it in front of Andrew.
“Lock up behind you when you leave,” I say before going back.
I grab my sketchbook and a pencil, then stand before the mirror.
I always work better alone, and only in solitude do I find peace. I push the mirror aside, revealing a hidden opening. I step through, disappearing into my sanctuary.
Finally, I find peace.
CHAPTER 3
ANDREW
Even though he asked me yesterday to bring something to eat, he neither looked at the burger nor said a word about it. He simply slipped away to the back, never to reappear. I wanted to say goodbye, but once again, he left me facing a mystery. His workspace is empty, and I feel like he vanished as easily as a ghost. Something’s slipping past me.
This morning, there’s not much to do. I stare at my coffee cup, hoping for some kind of revelation. Maybe I should go check on Arès in the back; after all, I don’t even know my salary yet, though I’d probably settle for scraps anyway. And if I dig deeper, it suits me—so far, he hasn’t asked for my social security number or ID, which lets me avoid lying by making up nonsense since I have neither. Honestly, I prefer the tax office to ignore this job. If I showed up in official files, Jace could find me. And that’s absolutely not happening.
Footsteps echo in the room. I look up; Arès wears the mask I’ve grown used to—cold, distant, and impassive.
“Hello,” I say, forcing a smile despite everything.
“Close the shop and come with me to the back,” he orders.
“Why?” I ask, puzzled.
He crosses his arms and steps closer. A slight nervousness washes over me—his movements intimidate me, but it’s mostly his proximity that unsettles me. His scent floods me, evoking a forest walk and absolute serenity—sensations that have become completely foreign. My body freezes as I realize how much his physical presence affects me, even without touch.
“You want to get rid of that horror on your neck, don’t you?”
Relief floods me. I hadn’t thought he’d agree to help. To be honest, I’d long hesitated to cover that mark engraved in my flesh. It might be my only chance to survive. If Jace finds out I erased it, he could kill me—or worse.
But I have to free myself. I don’t belong to him anymore. I refuse to keep displaying that humiliation to the world.
Once the shop is closed, I head to the studio. Unease creeps in as I spot the tattoo machine. Memories of my last experience come rushing back. I was tied to the bed, unable to move, while a needle tortured my skin. I screamed in pain, but Jace, unbothered, kept working, ignoring my pleas.
I close my eyes for a moment to banish that image, then take a deep breath. This time it’s different. It’s my decision. My choice.
“Take off your shirt,” orders Arès.
I furrow my brows and slip my hands into my pockets.
“I want a tattoo on my neck, not on my back,” I reply.
Arès sighs deeply. His look tells me he won’t accept any argument.
“The new piece will extend to your shoulder blades to cover every letter underneath,” he explains in a lecturing tone, as if I’m a child.
I realize with surprise that only Jace has seen my bare skin, especially my back. He made sure to leave his mark on every inch.
