The Tattoo Artist (La Petite Mort #1)

17. Chapter 17

seventeen

Quinn

I t had been a few days since I last saw Alexander. I haven't texted him my resume. I think we all know that was a lame excuse for me to get his number. Lame excuse or not, it worked. As I sorted through my sketchbook, looking through which art piece I would be selecting to add to my art portfolio, my hands immediately stopped when I came face to face with a sketch of Deimos.

Sophie was going on and on about some nightclub, trying to convince me to accompany her tonight. I must admit that it sounded exciting and tempting, but I had plans to stay home and enjoy the fact that my parents hadn't returned from the States. I stood up from my giant bean bag chair in the corner of my room. I grabbed my laptop and made my way back to my bean bag chair when Sophie got off the bed and went towards my closet.

She rushed inside my closet and started looking through my clothes, trying to find something for me to wear since it looked like she mistook my silence for a yes. I continued to search the web using her Wi-Fi as she continued to talk and look through the items. I logged into my parents' security camera portal and started looking through the feed of the days I saw him. I was mentally scolding myself for not thinking about this earlier.

Stupid Quinn.

Why didn't I think to check the cameras earlier? I wasn't sure how far back this goes, but I highly doubted a video from two years ago would be here.I had this immense urge to find Deimos and to prove to Sophie that he was indeed real. I reviewed the footage and scrolled through videos where I might have seen him. I clicked on the video that would give me a direct view of where he was standing the night he painted my skin. I pressed the forward button, making the video go a little faster, as I paid close attention, and that was when I saw him. I paused the video and zoomed in until I was satisfied, hitting play, when suddenly, my laptop was snatched from my lap.

"What are you watching? I called your name, and you didn't answer," she said, raising an eyebrow at me. She looked down at the video and sighed. I tried grabbing the laptop, but it was too late. "Seriously, Quinn!" she said in a serious and stern voice. She shut the laptop and threw it on my bed.

"What!" I said, somewhat annoyed.

"You know what!" She yelled, rolling her eyes. "You have an obsession with someone who does not exist. Don't you get that, Quinn? You have to stop before this gets out of control. I don't want you to end up like your sister in a loony bin."

"I'm not fucking crazy," I yelled back, getting angry that she would think that I needed help mentally. I was not my sister, and I hated when people talked about her and how she lost her mind.

"No?" She asked, but the way she said it was with a sarcastic tone, laughing at me as if I were crazy.

"Have you seen your sketches, your canvases, and don't get me fucking started on the box you have hidden under the bed. That box is filled with news articles and pictures. For fucks sake, you even have a goddamn map filled with red dots."

Before she could say anything else, I interrupted her. "It's not an obsession," I said, my voice getting louder and deadlier.

She laughed, but there was no humor. "Oh, I'm sorry. You're right; it's not an obsession. You're stalking. Quinn," she said calmly, changing her tone to almost sympathetic. "Leave the poor man alone, and instead, why don't you focus on what I was telling you? He's a myth, a town legend," she said, waving her hands around. My body automatically went to retrieve the box from under my bed so that I could show her all the evidence. She could see the video footage of the black figure who was standing outside.

She stopped me before I could even make it to the bed. She stood in front of me, almost like she was challenging me. "He is not a fucking myth, Sophia," I challenged as I stood in front of her, my nostrils flaring. "You saw the video, and you've seen the evidence. He was in my fucking bedroom Sophia. MY BEDROOM! He kissed me," I yelled. Her eyes displayed hurt when I called her by her legal name.

She scoffed, placing both her hands on my shoulders. My gaze met hers, and what I saw was pity. She was making me feel crazy. The pity in her eyes was a blow to my face. She was comparing me to my poor older sister.

"Look, Quinn, you're a virgin. Your hormones are going wild. And sometimes, the hormones and the books we both read can cause us to imagine things because we're horny. I get it, trust me. I should know I'm talking from experience," she said with a small frown. She squeezed my shoulders and looked into my eyes once again. This time, it was my turn to scoff.

"I am not horny," I argued, emphasizing each word. I stepped back two steps, causing her hands to drop from my shoulders.

"I know what I saw. I know what I felt—" I said, my fingers grazing my lips, remembering the feel of his lips.

"I know what I experienced. He kissed me, and I'm going to prove to you that Deimos is real. He isn't a myth," I promised her.

"Deimos is a myth. A fucking myth. It would be best if you got that inside that big brain of yours. GOD! Quinn, you are the smartest and stupidest person I know. You have been looking for him for two years," she shouted, raising two of her fingers as she emphasized two years.

"Alexander believes me, plus he said that nothing in life is a myth."

She walked towards the balcony and turned to face me. I could see that she was getting frustrated with me. "Alexander just wants to fuck you, Quinn! Huh? OPEN YOUR EYES! When are you going to realize that he wants to get inside your pants and see if he can fuck the virgin out of you." I swallowed the lump that was stuck in my throat. I'm not going to lie—her words hurt. And for a second, she did have me questioning Alexander's real intentions.

Was that what he wanted? To just fuck me?

"Bebe, you know I love you. Okay? You're innocent, and look, I don't blame you for fantasizing about Deimos; you know what they say—" she paused, her brows raised just a bit. "He must certainly fuck like he kills," she smirked in a sultry manner. "Intense," she said right before she made her way out of my room. I stood there in shock, my mouth opened. I closed my mouth and wiped the drool from the side of my mouth-getting out of my daze.

I knew he wasn't a myth. I sighed and promised myself to prove to her that Deimos was real.

My parents called last night to let me know that they would be staying another four days. So, I was taking advantage of the freedom I now had. Sophie was coming over in less than two hours because we were both headed to the grand opening of a club in downtown London. I exited the shower and dropped my towel in front of the mirror.

I stared at my tattoo, and my fingers caressed the wings of the blue morpho. The same butterfly Alexander had on his hand, and I wanted another tattoo for some reason.

I wanted his mark on my skin.

I wanted his hands to touch me again.

I bit my lower lip, excited at the thought of having Alexander's hands on me again.

I picked up the black ruched cami dress with a crisscross back. The dress was beautiful, and I especially loved the draped collar chain detail, which made me feel elegant and sexy at the same time. Sophie had lent me the dress since I had nothing to wear.

I did the last-minute touches on my hair when my phone beeps. I checked it to see a message from Sophie, letting me know she was waiting for me outside.My hands ran down my curves as I looked at myself one last time in front of the mirror; the dress enhanced my curves and showed just enough cleavage to keep it still modest.Satisfied with how I looked, I smiled to myself. I grabbed my bag, placed my phone inside, and slipped on my black heels that laced up to my knees. She beeped the horn, and I laughed, shaking my head at her antics. She honked again, and I groaned. Standing up from my bed, I rushed down the stairs and made my way outside. Thankful that I didn't kill myself with these heels.

I made sure the front door was locked behind me, and I turned around. I saw Sophie's jaw drop to the floor. I smiled and rushed to the car. I pulled the handle and slipped inside. She whistled. "Damn, girl. Wow, you look fucking hot. I never knew you had all this underneath the clothes you wear." She motions to my waist and boobs. I chuckled, pushing her shoulders.She laughed.

"Now, I understand why your parents keep you looking like a nun," she said, smiling.

"Stop," I said, giving her a full-on grin. She put her hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay. But I'm serious. Your body is built for sin. I can see why you caught Alexander's eye," she smirked, and my heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name.

I blushed crimson and turned away as images of him touching my body took over my thoughts. Did I want him to do sinful things to my body?

She turned her head towards me and smiled genuinely, "I love this you. You look so happy, Quinn, and you deserve it. Now—" she paused and smirked at me wickedly. "Let's get drunk and have fun." She turned on the car and drove towards the club.