Page 79 of Dare You to Run
“The fuck you are,” I growl and jump from my seat.
I stomp over to them, not caring that I’m not allowed to be in their sanitary station.
“Does it hurt there?” She asks him.
“No,” I bark. “Because you’re not getting a fucking tattoo there.”
Her face grows hard and her eyes spit fire. “Don’t tell me where I can and can’t get one.”
“I’m not telling you where to get one, I’m telling you who you’re not getting one from. Want it on your arm or ankle, fine. Have it at, bro. Butthere,” I say and point to the spot that only I belong. “Is not fucking happening.”
“What are you, her dad?” he asks.
“I’m more than her dad. I’m her man, and you aren’t touching her there.” I look over at the woman who is now gawking at our interaction. “Is there a woman who can ink her?”
“Uh, yeah. I can,” she stutters.
“Cool. Dagen you go with her. Don’t worry, man. You won’t lose the money. I’m getting one, too. And so help me, if you purposely fuck it up, I’ll fuck you up.”
“Jesus. Don’t be an asshole. I take my art seriously.”
“Good.” I walk over to the counter, do the same paperwork as Dagen and go back to sit on the chair that my girl once occupied.
I tell him what I want and where, pull off my shirt, and sit back. The guns buzz and I close my eyes, wondering if this is just a little too much.
Who fucking cares?
THIRTY-ONE
I take a deep breath,swiping at the small tear that has leaked from the corner of my eye, as Mollie, my tattoo artist, wipes away the last of the ink puddled on my skin.
“You okay, little lady?” she asks me.
“Yeah. I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.” I puff out a small laugh.
“That spot does hurt like a bitch. I just didn’t want to tell you because then you’ll be anticipating the pain and it makes it so much worse.” She swipes and ointment across the fresh tattoo then hands me a handheld mirror. “What do you think?”
I take it and stare at the reflection in absolute awe at the masterpiece she has painted. It’s a simple line tattoo but it’s elegant and exactly what I wanted. A beautiful rose blooms and the stem consists of elegant writing and words I never want to forget, as insane as that may seem. What type of person wants a phrase branded into them that reminds them of fear?
Me.
Run run run, little mousetakes the place of the stem in a flourished scroll. It stretches between my breasts and therearen’t many people who will know it’s there. I really only got it for one person and one person only.
“Did you want to show your guy? Or do you think that will set him off?” Mollie ponders.
“He may get a little pissed if I walk over there without a shirt on. Maybe I should just wait.”
She winks. “Good idea. Let me get the wrap and then you’ll be ready to go.”
I continue to look at it from different angles until she covers it with a thin almost plastic wrap like film she calls second skin. I carefully pull my bra and shirt on, and Mollie begins folding the screen that she placed around her station to block the view of those around the shop. I can see now why Hendrix didn’t want a man tattooing me. I assumed I could just lift my bra a little, but Mollie told me I would need to completely remove it so that the skin didn’t fold.
“How do you prefer I pay you? Credit card or transfer?” I grab my purse from the chair and pull out my phone.
“Oh baby, it’s taken care of.” I look at her questioningly. “Your man already paid for it. He asked how much then paid me double.”
My jaw drops and I look over to Hendrix who sits in the leather lounger, the artist hunched over his chest, working on a new piece. He looks relaxed like he’s getting a hot stone massage with zen music in the background. I guess at this point for him it is relaxing.
“You almost done there, Mr. Wolf?”
