Page 189 of Misrule
“That would be gloved, like Amanda’s would be,” Gabe cut in.
“Don’t give a fuck, Gabe. The motherfucker would still know the difference. My cock smart like that.”
“At least something on your person is,” Knox grumbled.
Val scowled at him. “Only Prez get to call me stupid, motherfucker,” he warned, then refocused on Gabe. “I’ll pay you whatever the fuck you want.”
“I’mnotdoing it,” Gabe said firmly.
“Then I guess I don’t get a cock piercing.”
“I guess you don’t,” Gabe replied.
During the exchange, Gabe had shaved Knox’s chest, although he kept it smooth, then washed the area with green soap. Once his skin dried, Gabe sat. He lowered the tattoo chair and raised his rolling stool, then grabbed a long needle from the open drawer.
The moment the tip pressed against his skin, Knox yelped. “Don’t hurt me,” he begged.
“Knox, this is only—”
More pressure on his skin. Tears rushed to his eyes. “Owwww!” he howled.
Frowning, Gabe pushed away from him.
“Why the fuck did I consent to this?” Knox demanded, doing his best not to allow tears to slide down his cheeks. “If I don’t have a tattoo that doesn’t mean Roxanne will love me less.”
“Knox—” Val’s alarmed voice halted when Knox shook his head.
“No. This shit hurts!” He breathed in deeply. “I’m doing this,” he reasoned more to himself than to either of the other two men. “If I can survive so many ass beatings from Outlaw and Mortician, I can survive needles that will drive into my skin seventy-five thousand times a second.”
“They don’t even make a needle that goes that fast,” Val said with exasperation.
Knox closed his eyes and sat rigidly in the chair.
“It’sseventy-fivetimes a second,” Gabe said. Though he sounded calm, there was a bit of astonishment in his tone, too. “Like seven and a half decades? Ten multiplied by seven, then adding a five to the answer. Seventy-five.”
Blood poured down Knox’s chest, warm over his skin. He didn’t see it—he refused to open his eyes. But he felt it. It was sticky and wet, draining him of life. “I’m bleeding to death.”
“You not bleeding at all, pussy,” Val snapped.
“Of course I am!” Knox insisted, still not opening his eyes. “How many stitches do I need?”
“How the fuck you were a cop?” Val said. “You ran away from scenes with blood?”
“I don’t care about anyone else’s blood,” Knox fumed. “It’smyblood being spilled that concerns me.”
Something long and skinny rubbed against Knox’s nose and his eyes flew open. Val dangled a marker in front of him.
“What the fuck is that?” Knox demanded, not in the mood for teasing.
Val leaned in, almost nose-to-nose. “The fuckingmarkerGabe was using for the stencil.”
“No, he was using a needle.”
“No, I was using that marker,” Gabe told him.
Blinking, Knox swallowed. “I don’t like needles,” he confessed.
“Oh, no shit,” Val answered, tossing the marker back to Gabe and returning to his seat.
