Page 92 of Like Fathers, Like Son
“Nothing hotter than an unwilling woman, am I right?”
“Get the fuck out of here, you two!” Pike roared in their direction, as he passed some leather straps to Blaze. I was crying helplessly by the time I was immobilised in that chair, with my hip angled for Pike to get to my tattoo.
“It’s gonna take a while to cover this, man, but I’ll make it look good,” he murmured as he stroked his gloved palm over my skin, and the offending tattoo that I wished I’d never even considered having. There was no way out of this for me, was there?
Blaze pulled over a wheeled stool and sat beside me, reaching for my hand, even while he glared at Pike’s hand resting on my skin.
“Don’t fucking touch me, Blaze. Why would you do this? Why? Last night you seemed like you… ow! Oh god, that hurts!” The tattoo gun felt like a blade being dragged over my skin, reminding me why I’d only had that one small tattoo so far. I had zero threshold for pain, and this felt worse than that serial killer trying to cut me to pieces.
“Please don’t make him do this, I promise I’ll keep it covered up, please, Blaze!” I was sobbing now, and Pike was having to lean his weight on my thigh to keep me still enough for him to work.
An hour passed in agony, while the bastard painted over my tattoo with flames to represent the monster I was trapped with. I cried for a lot of it, and there was only a brief moment where I thought I’d get a reprieve.
A guy with blonde dreadlocks came into the small tattoo parlour, also wearing a leather ‘cut’ as Blaze had referred to it, and he stopped dead a few feet away from us, his blue eyes assessing us in a split second.
“What the hell’s going on here?” He looked about my age, and horrified at what he saw.
“It’s okay, she’s just fighting through her nerves, prospect. Can you come back later for your lesson?”
The blonde guy was frowning deeply as he stepped closer.
“Come on, Pike, this looks like the lady doesn’t want that ink. What’s going on?”
Blaze lurched up out of his seat, but Pike stopped tattooing to step between him and the other biker.
“Later, prospect, unless you want to clean all the tools again?”
“Are you okay?” The guy was addressing me now, and ignoring his biker friend, at least until the guy got in his face and threatened him with god only knows what.
They argued briefly, and the young guy shot one last worried look in our direction before he left the building, and left me alone with the two assholes.
54
Blaze
Bythetimewewere home again, Anneka was completely ignoring everything I said to her, and flinching if I even tried to touch her.
I wished I’d had the chance to beat that dreadlocked biker to death, just to get rid of some of the brutal energy that had built up in me at the clubhouse.
I knew the bikers from way back, and even though they were a nasty bunch of fuckers, they recognised that in me too, I guess. I got on well with quite a few of them. Their president, Leif, was a complete fucking psycho though, but luckily he wasn’t around the tattooists all that much.
“Anneka-”
“Get the fuck away from me, Blaze. I hate you for this!” She winced with every step as she headed inside the house, and marched upstairs and away from me. Jesus. Was it so wrong of me to want that fucking abomination covered up?
A text from my dad told me that arrangements were in place, for two days from now. Two days to try and get her out of her mood, and where I needed her. How the hell was I supposed to get her out of this sulk she was in?
I was pretty sure fucking her wasn’t the answer, but there was an animalistic part of me that wanted to reclaim her after that bastard’s hands had been on her. The tattoo had taken over two hours.
Over two fucking hours of his hands on her. Fuck the tattoo, because now her entire leg offended me. I couldn’t exactly make her shower right now, not with the damn thing needing to stay dry.
I followed her up the stairs and found her curled up on the bed in the spare room, her sweatpants pushed down to uncover the new tattoo. Pike did amazing work, and the flames were gorgeous, not lifelike like my dad’s, but glowing and brilliant just the same.
“Anneka, can I get you a drink or something?”
“You can get fucked, that’s what you can do.”
I disappeared and returned with a cup of sweet tea, and some painkillers. I was trying to do the right thing, even though I was starting to realise just how betrayed she felt. I mean, being a smart guy, I’d known all along that she’d feel that way, but as I cast my mind back over it, I was understanding things a little better.
