The Tattoo Artist (La Petite Mort #1)

21. Chapter 21

twenty-one

Quinn

I t had been a few days since the incident that almost changed my life. I woke up the next morning with my head hurting and feeling like it was going to explode. Alexander was not by my side the next day. Helena, the housemaid, dropped off breakfast for me, then Alexander came up to check on me, and a few hours later, he dropped me off at my parent's home. Since that day, I haven't seen Alexander. He texted me occasionally to check up on me, but I haven't heard from him for the past twenty-four hours.

Sophie felt terrible leaving me alone at the club, and she came over yesterday and apologized. I could tell that she was being sincere. I'd never seen her cry, and yesterday she broke down. We both cried as I hugged her tightly. I didn't know why she broke down to that extent crying and begging me to forgive her for almost getting raped, but something told me there was more to her emotions. My parents weren't back yet. They would be staying for three more days. Not having them here was a good thing with everything that had happened to me these last few days. They would have known something was wrong.

Sophie was on the phone with me as we watched the new Halloween movie. I know what you're thinking; why the hell doesn't she just come over? She couldn't because her dad had an important dinner with some of the other priests from the different churches. So, she wasn't allowed to come over since she had to be there when they arrived. The movie was getting to the best part when, suddenly, a loud noise could be heard upstairs. It sounded like c rashing. "What the hell was that?" Sophie questioned, her voice laced with concern. I paused the movie, peering up from the blankets. "Quinn, are you there? Hello? Answer me?"

I gulped, standing up.Shit, I forgot I still had Sophie on the line. "Yeah, sorry. I don't know what that noise was." I answered as I made my way to the kitchen, hoping that I could find a better weapon there. I grabbed a knife from the knife block sitting on the kitchen counter, mentally counting to ensure no knife was missing.With Sophie still on speakerphone and the knife in my other hand, I made my way upstairs slowly.I pushed my parents' bedroom door open, but there wasn't any damage I could see and nothing on the floor. It sounded like something broke.

I gulped even harder as the fear crept in. That means the noise had to have come from my room. I went down the hallway towards my bedroom door, which squeaked open. The first thing I noticed was that my balcony door was open, and the second thing I saw was that something did actually break. There was glass on the floor. I pushed the door open even further, stepping into the room, and that was when I gasped. My eyes widened at the person in front of me.

I dropped the knife

"Quinn! What was that? Are you okay?" I snapped out of my haze and answered Sophie.

"Yeah, the neighbor's cat just got in and broke the crystal butterfly I had on my desk," I said.

"I have to go, Sophie. I—I need to clean up the mess. Good luck with the dinner. I will talk to you tomorrow," I added in a hurry and hung up the phone, tossing it on my desk, but my eyes never left Deimos.

"Deimos," I whispered.

Deimos was lying on my bed with blood all over his palms. When I looked down at the floor, there was a trail of blood starting from the balcony door all the way to my bed. My desk had a bloody handprint on it, almost like Deimos had grabbed onto my desk for support, which would explain the broken crystal.I rushed to him and took in his entire body, noticing blood pouring from his upper left leg. He groaned in pain when my hand brushed his left leg.

"Wait here. Let me get the first aid kit," I uttered as I dashed out of the room and down the stairs, heading towards the kitchen. I flung open the cabinet and grabbed the bottle of gin my dad kept. Then, I rushed back upstairs and grabbed the first aid kit from the guest restroom.I returned to my bedroom and shut the door behind me.I entered my en-suite and grabbed a handful of towels. I kneeled on the floor beside him.

"I want to help you," I whispered as he glared at me. Nodding his head, I stood up as my hand went to the waistband of his trousers. I pulled them down, and his jaw tensed when I pulled them over the wound.

I slid my hands under his boxers and moved them up just a tiny bit so that I could get to the wound completely.I noticed the tattoos on his upper thigh and his calf. My eyes widened when I noticed the bulge inside his boxers. How could he be hard during a time like this?

The wound was about four inches long and pretty deep, which explained the amount of blood. I settled between his legs and started to clean the wound. "Here," I said, grabbing the bottle of gin and bringing the nozzle to his lips. "Take a drink," I urged him to take a shot before I proceeded. He wrapped his lips around the bottle and chugged a reasonable amount.

I looked at him one last time, taking a deep breath and swallowing the lump that was stuck in my throat. "This might sting," I warned him seconds before pouring a good amount of gin on top of the wound. He hissed and clenched his jaw tightly, but other than that, he didn't make a single move. "Did you get stabbed?" I asked him, hoping that my talking would distract him.

He nodded his head.

I cleaned the area and grabbed a new towel to wipe away the blood before taking another towel and putting firm pressure on the wound. I grabbed the needle and thread. I disinfected the needle using the gin, and just in case, I leaned over, opened the drawer, and took out a lighter. I rolled the spark wheel down into the ignition.

I sighed in relief when I saw the flame.

I ran the needle through the flame for a few seconds. Once satisfied, I tossed the lighter and removed the towel I had on his wound. I looked up towards Deimos, making sure he was okay. His green eyes held me prisoner.

"If…if you need me to stop. Tell me," I added nervously.

He doesn't reply. He stared into my eyes as if he were using them as a distraction. I ripped my gaze away and began to stitch him up. I bit my lower lip to keep myself from whimpering as I pierced the needle through his skin and pulled the thread through.

"Oh my God," I whispered to myself. I was shocked to see how he didn't cry out in pain. He didn't even flinch when I pierced the needle through his skin. Thank God for my obsession with medical shows because I wouldn't even know what to do. Before finishing up, I poured a good amount of gin into a clean towel and wiped the remaining blood. Once done, I rubbed antibiotic ointment, placed a gauze over the wound, and wrapped a bandage around his thigh. Suddenly, I looked up, feeling his fingers graze my cheek before pushing my hair behind my ear.

My heart rate increased, and I felt it beat like a drum. I stood up, grabbed the supplies, and placed them on my desk. "Are you thirsty?" I asked him, hoping he would say yes so that I could spend even more time with him. He shook his head.

"Do you want something for the pain?"

"No," he whispered in a low voice. I could barely catch the sound of his voice. I looked down at his wounded body and wondered if he had any more wounds underneath his clothing. "You can stay here tonight. Let me get you some fresh sheets and get you cleaned up," I advised him. He needed to wash his hands as they were stained with blood. With that in mind, I headed for the laundry closet to grab some fresh sheets.

I made my way back into my room, and I was met with Deimos standing there. He made contact with my canvas in the corner of my room. My eyes roamed down his body, and I instantly frowned when I noticed his hands were already clean. I didn't want him to go. He must have taken the opportunity to wash his hands.

He didn't move or try to leave. His eyes were still on my canvas. His green eyes focused on the blue morpho I had painted earlier today. I had the opportunity to grab the sheets full of blood along with the towels and throw them into the laundry basket that was inside my washroom.I slipped inside further and washed the blood off my hands. I made a mental note to burn the sheets tomorrow. Exiting the en-suite, I was met with Deimos lying on my bed. I giggled.

He took up my entire bed, but I didn't care. I leaned against the door frame and stared at him. He still had his mask on. Why didn't he want to show me his face?

I settled down onto the edge of the bed, thankful for deciding to put on a clean pair of pajamas. Deimos grabbed onto my arm and yanked me beside him. I could hear my heartbeat profusely as I lay on my side next to him.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

His eyes stared into mine.

His fingers grazed my cheek.

I breathed in his scent and leaned against his touch. My hand went up as my fingers caressed his face more like his mask. I traced the skull on the lower part of his mask. "You never talk," I stated. "Why?" I added. He brushed his thumb against my lips, parting it down as he dragged the bottom of my lip.

I wanted to lick his thumb.

Bite and suck on it.

Hell, I wanted him to kiss me.

I missed his lips on mine.

I missed him.

My fingers continued to graze his mask, but they reached for the end of his mask, hoping he would allow me to take it off. He grabbed my wrist to stop me before I could even get to the end. He didn't remove my hand but instead placed it under his mask. Almost as if he was testing me to see if I'd do it, and I took my chance. I lifted his mask over his lips and stopped. I wanted him. No, I needed him to trust me. I had the opportunity to pull his mask all the way up over his face and reveal who was underneath, but I couldn't. Because I knew he would do it on his own time.

Hopefully soon.

I glanced down at his face and met his eyes for a slight moment. I might be inexperienced, but I wasn't dumb. I saw his desire swirling around in those darkened green eyes of his. I leaned down, ensuring my lips grazed his, and before I could chicken out, I pressed my lips onto his. This kiss was full of passion that sparked every inch of my body.My fingers ran through his stubble and took this opportunity to grab his face and deepen the kiss. He bit down on my lips, and I gave him access to my mouth. His tongue dove inside and explored every part of me. I released a soft moan, and he happily swallowed it down.

His hand reached down, held my hips, and pulled me on top of him roughly. I straddled his lap, not once, stopping the kiss until I could no longer breathe. He pressed his front to mine, all hard muscle and strength. My breast burned under the heat of his body. My nipples hardened. Sparks lit beneath my skin, sizzling from just the kiss.

The kiss was magical.

The kiss was real.

The kiss was addicting.

He tasted masculine with a hint of cranberry, which was probably because of me. My breathing was hard. I licked my lips, savoring the taste. We kissed again, this time it was slow and sweet. His hands trailed down my spine, this feeling somewhat familiar, almost as if he had done this before. He pulled away, his lips kissing along my jaw down to my neck. "Deimos," I moaned. He tightened his grip around my waist. I gasped, feeling something hard poke my inner thigh.

My eyes connected with his and for a moment I saw Alexander. My lips sought his, craving the taste of him. I craved his hands all over me. On every inch of my skin. I was ravenous for everything and anything he'd give me. Desire overtook my senses and I started to grind myself against his hardened cock. I threw my head back, gasping for air as pleasure ran through my body. The butterflies were flying free inside me.

And I almost moaned Alexander's name.

He flipped us around, and I landed on the mattress with a thump .Deimos laid on top of me, putting more of his weight on me. My legs found themselves wrapped around his waist, and his mouth traveled down my neck. My hand roamed his back, finally settling on his shoulders as I grabbed onto him.

Why did I feel guilty for Alexander? Why did I feel like I was doing something wrong? Having Deimos here on top of me.

Deimos pulled away softly, placing one last kiss on my forehead. I opened my eyes and released my grip on him. I watched his every move. I watched him sit up and lift his hands around his neck, unlatching his necklace.

He held it up. It was the skull with horns and the sword through the top of its head. The chain went through the sword handle. It was either silver or white gold with black diamonds for the eyes, and the sword handle was black. The necklace was the same sign that was on his hand.

With his free hand, he grabbed my neck, pulling me up so that I was now in a sitting position, bringing me much closer to him. My hands rested on his chest, and he wrapped the necklace around my neck.

I looked down, taking the sign between my fingers. "What does it mean?" I asked him as I continued to run my fingers, examining the pendant.

He lifted my head by placing two fingers underneath my chin, causing me to look into his gaze.

"Προστασ?α," he whispered. ( "Protection. ")

I watched him stand up and pull his trousers over his waist. I kneel on the bed. "Please don't go. I don't want you to leave me again. Deimos," I pleaded and slid off the bed, grabbing his wrist. He turned to look at me. "Stay," I begged him.

"Just until I sleep or until yo–" I didn't get to finish the sentence because he put his finger on my lips to silence me. He shook his head and turned to leave, heading towards the balcony. I rushed after him. "Wait!" I exclaimed. He turned around, and my hands automatically went up to raise his mask over his lips, crashing my lips with his. He wrapped his arms around my waist and bent his neck to deepen the kiss. When his tongue explored my mouth, I melted into his embrace, clinging to his biceps as our lips brushed against each other.

He pushed me up against the balcony rail, his arms catching me as he gripped the railing. His tongue swallowed me up even more.He released me, pulling his mask down before jumping over the balcony and disappearing into the night. I watched him walk away, heading straight for the dark alley.

At that moment, I made the crazy decision to follow him. I rushed down the stairs to grab my sneakers and put them on. I opened the door and ran towards the alleyway. Who are you, Deimos?

I know you're real because if you're not, I was either dreaming or hallucinating. I followed after him, holding my phone tightly since my pajamas didn't have pockets. I looked around the empty alleyway and continued towards the exit that led into another neighborhood.

I looked around when I finally saw him. What the hell was he doing that was so important? Both his hands were inside his pockets. His hoodie was over his head, and the black clothes camouflaged with the darkness of night. He looked huge from the distance I was walking from. His broad shoulders and six-foot-four-inch frame looked intimidating and dangerous. I'd been following him for the past fifteen minutes since finding him took me about twenty minutes. He crossed the street to get to the next alley.

I stopped walking. I'd be too far from my house if I followed him through that alley. But if I didn't follow him, I could lose him forever. My brain told me to return home, but my heart told me to do it.

So, I did.

I ran across the street into the alley Deimos had walked into. The moment my foot stepped into the dark alley, a hand wrapped around my throat and pushed me against the brick wall.

I collided.

I closed my eyes from the fear. I was too scared to see, but the pressure on my throat was overwhelming. I opened my eyes and gasped my final breath as my entire body was lifted. I was pinned to the wall, my legs wrapped around his waist. My hand gripped the wrist of my offender, and my eyes opened, but instead of feeling scared, I was relieved to see his green eyes. His bright green eyes gleamed into mine.

Lust.

His eyes were filled with lust and danger, full of unknown secrets—secrets I wish I knew. Those eyes spoke for him, and right now, they were telling me why the hell were following me. He loosened his grip on my throat but pushed his body closer to me. His lips caressed my cheek as he leaned closer toward my ear. The soft fabric of the mask warmed my cold cheek.

"Go home," he warned, but his voice was muffled behind that mask. He let go of me abruptly, causing me to fall to the ground. Deimos left me to fend myself off the ground. I looked up, ready to fight.

Stupid asshole.

"Or what," I spat out as I looked up to see him. He didn't offer his hand or say sorry. Instead, he dared to walk away and told me again to go home. I stood up quickly, dusting my hands.I crouched down to pick up my phone, which had dropped and examined it.

Thank God it still worked. I stood in the middle of the alley, watching him fade into the darkness of the night.I turned to leave the alley, stepping out of the darkness into the light of the neighborhood. As I went to rub my throat, my phone vibrated.I unlocked it to see a message from my mother.