The Tattoo Artist (La Petite Mort #1)

22. Chapter 22

twenty-two

Quinn

Mom: Coming home, Sweetheart! Mr. Walsh is DEAD.

M y mother's message had been in a constant loop inside my head. Class today passed by like a blur, and the only thing I could think of was Mr.Walsh—his death, to be exact.The scenarios running through my head right now were crazy. I mean, would Deimos have killed Mr.Walsh?Deimos had blood down his thigh and all over his hands, but what if that blood wasn't just his? What if he found out what Mr.Walsh had done to me and killed him? I shook my head to rid myself of these crazy thoughts.

The bell rang, signaling that class had ended.I packed my things into my backpack and exited the classroom. I rushed out of there and headed straight for the school library.My backpack bounced as I ran through the hallways full of students. Entering the library, I made my way over to the computers on the second floor.Those happen to always be empty.I took the computer closest to the wall and farthest to the entryway. I wanted to get some privacy and ensure that if somebody was coming up the stairs, I could close out my tabs before anyone could see what I was searching.

Typing in the words Deimos had said to me yesterday into the search bar, I hit the search key. Google immediately brought up the results.

One word.

One word that caused my breath to be sucked out of my body.

Protection.

My eyes widened at the image in front of me—a skull with devil horns and a sword. But my phone rang before I could click one of the results or even search more about the pendent Deimos had given me. I looked to see who was calling me. Sophie's name appeared on my screen. I slid my finger to the right to take the call.

"Hello," I answered.

"Where are you? Did you hear what happened to Mr.Walsh?" She asked.

"Library," I answered, but before I could even say another word, she blurted out that she was on her way and hung up. I sent her a quick text message letting her know I was using a computer on the second floor. A few minutes later, my eyes caught Sophie making her way over to me. I cleared the history off the computer and signed out, meeting her halfway.

"Hey bitch," she shouted. I slapped my hand against her mouth, and she laughed. I grabbed her hand and led her inside one of the study rooms students usually reserved to study.

Once inside the dark room, I turned on the lamp on the desk.I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "What's wrong?" she whispered, taking in my worried expression.I tighten my grip on her shoulders.

"It means protection," I whispered, revealing the necklace. Her eyes instantly landed on the necklace.

"The necklace?" She asked curiously. I couldn't speak. I could only nod, trying to process what I read before Sophie called me.

"The—the necklace means protection," I said, walking back and forth around the room. Sophie was just standing there watching me, almost having a nervous breakdown. I turned around abruptly to face her. "I have to see him again, Sophie— I have to," I said, my voice full of urgency.

"See who? "

"Deimos!" I exclaimed. "He—he gave me the necklace last night. His necklace and his hands were all bloody and—" I was blabbing. Sophie stopped me from blabbing even more by gripping my shoulders and forcing me to look at her. She rolled her eyes.

"Deimos isn't real. He's a fucking myth, Quinn. Please, tell me you will stop with this nonsense. What is wrong with you? Are you going delulu now?" She said the last part while she raised one of her hands with her index finger pointing straight towards her temple and moved that same finger in a circular motion.

I slapped her finger with more force than I intended, but before I could do or say anything else, the door suddenly opened with two students glancing at us. We immediately left and hurried out of the library. Once outside, we made our way towards her car, where we usually hung out and listened to music while I sketched and she talked. But today was different because instead of music playing, we listened to the truth.

The radio played as soon as Sophie turned the key of her 1990 Buick towards her. "Breaking news, the infamous Deimos has struck again," the radio host reported. We both glanced up, and I turned the volume higher. "London's Metropolitan Police have confirmed that the deceased is a very prominent man, William Walsh, who was found murdered in his home early this morning. Detective Avery has confirmed that Mr. Walsh had a particular sign down his throat. The sign is particularly linked to the very infamous Deimos. I guess he came back from being just a myth in the UK's underworld. What we know right now is that the signature was first linked to the Greek tradition of the underworld. The Hellenic Police were never able to confirm if he really did exist. He's very real, and he's back. Our deepest condolences go to the family," she said as she went on to report about the weather and the traffic.

My heart dropped to my stomach, and my hand clasped the necklace tightly. Sophie looked back at me, her eyes widened. She now knew the truth.

She finally believed me.

Deimos killed Mr. Walsh the same night he came into my room with blood all over his hands. It was clear to me that Mr. Walsh had fought back and stabbed him. Because of me, Mr. Walsh was dead. It had to be? Why else would Deimos kill him? He had to know that Mr. Walsh tried to touch me inappropriately, but how? How did he find out? "Deimos killed him," Sophie whispered, bringing me out of my Deimos-induced daze.

I turned to look at her shocked expression, which showed fear. "You were right? He's not a myth," she added, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You believe me?" I whispered more to myself because it was obvious that she believed me. All of the UK now knew Deimos was very real. Everything the radio host was reporting was still reeling through my head. She mentioned Greece. Alexander was from Greece. "I need to talk to Alexander," I blurted out. He might know more about Deimos and his signature sign.I closed the car door and buckled myself in.

"What are you doing? We have class," she stated cluelessly, almost as if she didn't hear what I just blurted out a few minutes ago. "I need to talk to Alexander," I repeated myself, making sure she heard me this time.She looked at me with a smirk on her face. "Holy shit! Are you finally going to shoot your shot," she guessed, wiggling her eyebrows.I laughed because only Sophie would do a complete 180 and forget about Deimos and his killing tendencies. I shook my head.

"No, I have a few questions to ask him," I replied.

Sophie gave me one last glance before turning the key to turn on the ignition and driving off towards the tattoo shop. My hand clasped the pendant tightly, never letting go. The car ride was silent, allowing me to think a lot of things over. Why me? Why would Deimos risk getting caught and returning from being just a myth? Why kiss me? Why protect me? Who was Deimos? And why wouldn't he trust me?

"I'm sorry," Sophie apologized, interrupting my spiraling questions. Huh? It took me a minute to register what she had just said. "I'm sorry for making you feel like you were crazy. And I'm sorry for not believing you," she repeated, going on about how I've been chasing after him since I was sixteen and how wrong she was for gaslighting me.

"It's okay, Sophie, I forgive you," I answered.

Twenty minutes later, we arrived at Terror Ink Tattoo. I pushed open the car door and got down. Walking towards the entrance door to the tattoo shop, I opened it to reveal the same receptionist lady from last time. She stared at me, but I ignored her, walked past her, and made my way down the narrow hallway.I pushed the door open and saw him sitting in his chair, gun in hand, getting ready to tattoo some bimbo.I looked at her and then at him, and something inside me raged with jealousy. I was under the impression that he never tattooed women, just men, except for Sophie.At least, that's what I had heard from someone the other day. "Quinn," he said. Quinn, not Princess or Little Butterfly.

"I need to ask you a few questions—it's important," I confessed, narrowing my eyes at him.He looked up at me from where he was sitting and nodded.

"Can you go to the front and wait for Harry? He'll be tattooing you," he explained to the girl, but she looked at me and rolled her eyes. "But—but I wanted you," she whined and pouted as if that was supposed to do anything.Alexander looked at her, giving her a hard stare as he replied, "Can't," giving her no room for argument. She grabbed her bag and walked out of the room, huffing her dislike.I closed the door immediately after she left. Rage and jealousy were still running through my blood.

"What does this mean?" I asked him as Ilifted the pendant from my neck, and he stared at it for a second.

"Who gave this to you?" He asked me as he held the pendant in his large hand.

"Deimos," I whispered. I refrained from telling him about him coming to my room last night injured. "He—he, umm,gave it to me and said something in Greek?" I added, getting nervous.

"What did he say?" Alexander questioned me, looking at me with a raised brow.

I repeated the exact word Deimos had said to me last night, but I butchered it horribly.

"Προστασ?α," Alexander mumbled, and something about the way he said it and the way he stared at me made me feel the same way Deimos did. ( "Protection. ") The way his eyes analyzed me seemed familiar.

"Yes! That's the word," I said, a little too excited.

"The word itself means protection. However, the pendant dates back to the Greek tradition used by the underworld to signify that the person wearing it is important. Deimos is protecting you with his life and whatever you do, Quinn ," he said my name with emphasis. "Don't take it off," he expressed.

"Don't take it off. Why?" I questioned, but my voice was full of concern.

He grabbed my chin gently, lifting my chin so that our eyes met.

"It's a Greek tradition. It means he's given his life for yours. It's not good if you go against it." I nodded at his words and watched as he continued to look down at me.I swallowed hard and whispered, "He kissed me yesterday." I don't know why I said it. Maybe I wanted to see his reaction. I wanted to see how he would respond. If he would feel this rage and jealousy I felt when I entered this room. His jaw tensed, and he let go of my chin. He turned back and started to clean his area.

He was ignoring my existence. I stood there watching him clean up his area, dump the ink he had already poured, and sanitize. "Go home, Quinn. I have work to do," he uttered, not even looking at me.

My shoulders sagged and I regretted saying that to him.

Lying on my bed and listening to the rain was somewhat peaceful. My parents' flight was canceled because of the weather, but they should arrive tomorrow in time for the funeral. It was dark outside, and the thunderstorm was roaring outside, but even that didn't stop me from feeling guilty. Something inside me felt guilty for what I told Alexander. There was no reason for me to tell him what I told him. My jealousy was not an excuse for my behavior with him.

Frustrated with myself, I got off the bed and headed straight for my balcony, opening the door to breathe some fresh air. I stood at the corner of my balcony, leaning against the railing and looking at the dark alley .

Hoping to see Deimos again.

As I stepped closer to the railing, I held on tight and leaned over. The rain and wind made my skin cold and wet. My hair stuck to my skin, but I refused to move. I knew he was coming; something inside of me knew. So, I endured the rain, the wind, and the cold.

My eyes focused on the alleyway before me, taking in the darkness and thanking the lightning for bringing some light for a split second. This helped me take in everything as my eyes scanned the area. But for some strange reason…

I felt him.

He was here with me.

I knew he was.

My body was on autopilot.I turned around, and there he stood.

Deimos.

He watched me from the corner, staring at my eyes and my shaking body. The rain hits us at full force, soaking our bodies even more.I moved closer, leaving a small gap between us. "Did you kill him?" I whispered, staring at his eyes, which were currently speaking to me. His eyes told me all kinds of things, and in them, I could see the answer to my question even before he nodded his head.

"Why? Why did you kill him?" I asked him, getting closer. I knew he wouldn't answer me because he never talked. Rain came down harder and made contact with my lips and eyes when I looked up into the sky. I licked the water from my lips, my gaze meeting his once again. "Do you know what Mr. Walsh did?" He doesn't hesitate. He nodded his head, giving me my answer right away.

"But why do it Deimos?" I uttered.

He made contact with my neck. At the same time, his hand pointed to the pendant that was hanging and currently sat between my breasts.And the words that Alexander spoke earlier today resonated with me.

"Deimos is protecting you with his life and whatever you do, Quinn," he said my name with emphasis. "Don't take it off," he repeated.

And that was all it took for me to step closer to him, wanting to rip that stupid skull mask off.I rested my hands on his chest and leaned into him. I needed to feel him and make sure he was safe. "You could have gotten hurt!" I mumbled against his chest, and my hands gripped the sweatshirt he wore. I let go, and my hands reached up to remove his mask over his mouth. My thumb grazed his lips as my other hand reached behind him, pulling his head down to meet my lips.

I kissed him.

The world ceased to exist at this very moment. Our lips locked together, and his hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him. Our wet clothes fused together, and there was something about being kissed in the rain that made this moment even sweeter. The rain soaked through our clothes, causing chills to take over my body, but the heat from the kiss and his hands on me helped me forget about the coldness against my skin. His hands moved up my back and fisted my wet hair.

"I want you, Deimos," I mumbled against his lips, and at that moment, he smirked sinisterly. His hands lifted me up by my thighs, and my legs wrapped around him. He held me with one hand, pushing me against the balcony door. Once inside the safety of my room, he kissed me harder. The intensity of the kiss left my body burning with a need for more. My legs unwrapped themselves, and he gently placed me down. Our wet clothes rubbed against each other. He towered over me.

I licked my lips, watching him.

He removed his sweatshirt, dropping it on the floor. My eyes made contact, and I could already see the puddle forming. I cursed myself for not having turned on my light. The only light was coming from the small lamp on my desk. The darkness from the night and the darkness from my room made it hard for me to see him. He moved towards me and grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me towards him. His hand trailed down my robe, looking at me for permission. I nodded my head, and he pulled on the belt, revealing my pajamas.

The robe fell to the floor, causing another puddle of water to form. He stepped back to admire the view in front of him. Deimos then settled me down onto the bed and towered over me, settling between my thighs. I licked my lips, waiting for his next move. Excitement coursed through me like a freight train. He settled himself between my legs, and I moaned softly, feeling his hardened bulge.His hands snaked beneath my wet shirt, and his fingers caressed the skin. Gripping the shirt, he lifted it over my head, and I willingly let him. Nothing but my hardened nipples on display for him. I was bare, and his lips dragged down my chest, and I gasped.

Tilting my head back, my eyes closed shut, and my mouth opened, I enjoyed the feeling of his tongue on me. He kissed down my breast and abruptly stopped. I lifted my head to see why, getting ready to protest, when suddenly I watched his fingers brush up against my butterfly tattoo. He lifted his head, and our eyes met for a second, and then his mouth captured one of my nipples. I gasped in surprise, not used to the sensation of a man doing this to me. I felt every sensation he gave me. Deimos nibbled my right breast as his free hand reached up to squeeze the other one, and before long, he sucked, bit, and licked his way down my stomach.

I moaned.

"Deimos," I moaned his name, and he tugged at my shorts, looking at me for permission. I nodded my head, biting my lower lip. He slipped them off my legs and threw them to the side, dragging my cotton panties along with them. Fuck! I mentally scold myself for having my day-of-the-week panties on. Who in the hell wore underwear with the days of the week on them? Oh yeah, that's right—I did.

He got on his knees in front of me, wrapping his hands around my thighs, and pushed me towards him, catching me by surprise. He pushed my legs wider, and I was utterly wet down there. And before I could even think about it, I felt his hot breath on my clit, and I clenched my inner muscles. I didn't have to wait long to feel his mouth all over me. I whimpered breathlessly at the sensation of his mouth on my wet clit.

"Fuck," I cussed, my back arching farther away from the mattress. My hands went up to cover my mouth so that my neighbors wouldn't hear me. I thanked God my parents weren't home. Butterflies swarmed my stomach, and my back arched off the bed as I felt his tongue slide inside me.

I wanted to touch him. I needed to pull him closer, if that was even possible, so I reached down and fisted his mask, grabbing a handful of his hair. His tongue moved expertly, and then I noticed that he was spelling his name.

D-E-I-M-O-S

He was going to make me come by spelling his own name. I let go of him, and my hands instantly fisted the sheets when I felt the M and then came the O. His hands trailed up my neck, wrapping themselves around it, squeezing. I looked down at him, and then the final letter S was traced inside me, and that was when it hit me. I detonated and released all over his mouth.

His hands tightened around my neck, and I screamed. It was a silent scream. Nothing but the rain could be heard.My legs fell apart, my body trembled, and my breathing was heavy.He stood and leaned his body over me, kissing my lips, and I could taste myself.

Sweet but slightly bitter, almost like cranberries .

His tongue explored my mouth, sucking on my tongue. I took this opportunity to slide my hands over his body, gripping the long-sleeved black shirt that stuck to his body like a second skin because of the wetness. His body tensed under my touch, but soon after, he relaxed.We let go, catching our breath. "I trust you, Deimos. With my life," I grazed his stubble, the pad of my thumb brushing against his swollen lips.

He didn't say anything.

Not a single word.

My arms stopped gripping his shirt; instead, I wrapped my arms around his muscular torso. "Stay—please stay," I begged him. "Just until I fall asleep," I added, trying to compromise with him. I tilted my head to watch his response, but instead of shaking his head, he nodded his answer. The grin that took over my face in that instant was immense. My heart soared as I rushed to get under the covers—naked.

Once I was settled into the warmth of my bed, I watched Deimos enter the en-suite and bring at least three large towels. He laid the towels on top of the comforter. Once settled, I rested my head on his chest with one leg on top of his stomach.

He cradled me the same way Alexander did the night I was drugged. His hands played with my wet hair as he ran his fingers through it.I snuggled myself closer to him if that was even possible.

"You're the first man who's ever touched me," I whispered against his chest, my eyes closing, sleep taking over. Just before I fully dozed off, I heard him whisper something in Greek.

"Kαι το τελευτα?ο σου." ( "And your last one .")