The Tattoo Artist (La Petite Mort #1)

24. Chapter 24

twenty-four

Quinn

T hree Days Later

I watched how the sun and clear blue sky illuminated the view around me. The irony was that today of all days, the sky was bright and clear, almost as if the earth itself knew that there was one less scumbag on this earth.

My mother still had the twisted idea to marry me off to Mr. Walsh's son. She forced me to sit next to him. I could only imagine she had hopethat I would comfort him since his father died—if only she knew that he hated his father. Mrs. Walsh, on the other hand, had been crying since this funeral began— if only she knew the real man she was married to—crying for a scumbag and a pervert.

I didn't know how to feel. I felt a little guilty—I knew who killed his father and why. My thoughts were somewhere else as the Priest continued to talk. I brushed my fingers against my lips, the same place he touched me. I missed his touch already, and it had only been three days. I looked around, noticing people were already leaving. I raised from my chair, taking in my surroundings, almost hoping to see him.Owen didn't move; he remained seated, staring at the ground where they had just put his father—his shoulders sagged.

I licked my lips and sat back down beside him. "I'm sorry for your loss, Owen," I offered, my fingers playing with the ends of my hair.

"Don't be. It's not like you killed him," he uttered, looking at me. No, but I knew who did.

"I'm only sad I didn't do it myself," he confessed, and my eyes widened at his confession. I glared into his soul and saw the truth. Owen wasn't sad because his father died. No, Owen was unhappy that he wasn't the one to do it.He gave me a soft smile before he whispered his next confession. "I'm bi-sexual," I smiled back at him and nodded my head.

I knew.

He laughed silently. "It's funny, my parents were forcing me to get with you because apparently it would fix me," he said, making quotation marks with his fingers when he said fix me. "They thought if I stuck my dick into a vagina, it would solve the problem," he continued.I bit into my bottom lip to keep from laughing—his parents must have known he had seen plenty of women naked before. Right?

He chuckled. "If they only knew my reputation was true. I've stuck my dick in plenty of pussy and ass."

I burst out laughing, no longer able to hold it in. Owen joined me as well. "Holy shit! But I guess I can see it with Catholic parents," I added. It was stupid, and they were hypocrites for judging Owen and not supporting him. "I know, it's fucking bullshit. They're Catholic, but yet my parents judge everyone—let's not talk about the sin of being gay fuckin' rubbish shit," he said, his voice laced with irritation. He nudged me a little, and I looked up at him.

"How about we get out of here?" He asked me. I smiled at him, but inside, I was smirking because something told me my parents would agree to me leaving with Owen.

"Sure, but you'll have to convince my parents to let me hang out with you," I announced.

He stood up and offered me his hand. I took it, standing up, and followed after him. We reached my parents. He stood with his two hands shoved into his pockets. "Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Connor," he acknowledged my parents, all polite and innocent.

"Oh, Owen, my dear boy, how are you?" My mother asked him, and Owen gave her a slight nod.

"I'm doing better, thank you for asking Mrs. Connor," He smiled so innocently that he almost had me fooled. "Would it be okay if I took Quinn out for dinner?" My mom's eyes widened a little before locking with mine. I smiled innocently at her, but Owen interrupted before my mother could question us. "I promise to bring her back before nine, and I will make sure she is safe," he added.

My mother nodded. "Okay, but no funny business, and please be respectful," my mother warned. Wait? Did she actually think Owen and I would? It was never happening, especially after everything that had happened with Deimos. "Never, Mrs. Connor. Not a single hair on her head will be touched," he smirked slightly. My mother sighed before nodding her head. "Okay, but bring her back before nine," Mother confirmed. Iheld my massive grin as my mother glanced at me, and with that, we left in a hurry before either my mom or dad could change their minds.

Owen unlocked his car, and I slipped inside. Once in his car, Owen pulled out of the cemetery and made his way downtown. The music was softly playing in the background when suddenly he said, "You 're not as bad, Quinn. In fact, I think we'll be great friends," he confessed.

"I think so, too," I paused to smile at him as he looked at me for a second, returning his attention to the road. "Owen, I know we said dinner, but can we please go to Cecil Court? I want to get a book Sophie recommended and some art supplies," I asked him, hoping he would agree.

"Of course. What book?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"The Heartless. It's a dark mafia romance by this incredible author," I said, a little too excited to look at all the books. Sophie was getting me hooked on reading. Owen's attention went back onto the road, and I continued to stare out the window—making a mental list of what supplies I needed.

My thoughts were suddenly no longer on making a list but on Alexander. I haven't spoken to him since that day I told him about kissing Deimos. I shouldn't have said it. He didn't need to know, but I the urge I had to see how he would react.Owen spoke, bringing me out of my daze.

"So, you like to read your porn," he commented, and I couldn't help but giggle nervously, feeling my cheeks redden. That was definitely Sophie, although I was sure she probably saw porn once or twice. I'd barely started to read these kinds of books. I started with small-town, closed-door romances, then progressed to some smut but not too crazy. Carter by Kassandra Marie Lopez was my first spicy romance.

I shook my head. "No, I haven't read nor watched porn," I explained, playing with the ends of my hair. He looked at me dumbfoundedly.

"Tell me, friend, are you just another serious Catholic? Or are you part of us—it's always the quiet ones?" He questioned, wiggling his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes and laughed. I contemplated telling him about Deimos.

"I kissed someone," I confessed, and his reaction caused me to giggle. He slammed his brakes and snapped his head in my direction.

"Wait! You, Nun Quinn, kissed someone? Quinn, the girl with the most strict parents," He expressed clearly in shock. I nodded my head.

"Mhm," I confirmed but didn't elaborate anymore. I couldn't tell him who he was because then he would know I kissed his father's killer.

"Spill the tea. How was the kiss?" He laughed.

Just remembering how his lips felt on my skin, I could feel myself blushing. And the ache between my legs emerged.

"Amazingly good," I laughed, thinking about our first kiss. "Our first kiss happened when you and your parents came for dinner."

"You dirty nun, you're telling me while I waited for you to come downstairs, you were having a makeout session. You dirty, dirty girl," he teased, giving me the stink eye.

"Basically," I giggled. "But enough about me. Tell me about you?"

Owen turned and smirked. "I have a crush on my tattoo artist. He's so fucking hot and about five years older than me," he explained, and I watched him get hot for this man. His grip tightened around the wheel, and he continued to speak. "He owns the Terror Ink Tattoo Shop," he added. I swallowed hard. Hang on. WTF!

"Wh—what's his name?" I asked. Please don't say Alexander. Please don't say Alexander. Please, God, don't say Alexander. I prayed, hoping he wouldn't say his name.

"Alexander," he said.

Dammit!

Why was my heart beating rapidly? Why was I suddenly feeling possessive over him? I didn't have feelings towards him. I mean, there was some sexual tension between us, but I wasn't blind. The man was good-looking.Okay, okay, I may have a little crush on him, but now I have the guy who I was supposed to marry and who was bi-sexual telling me he liked Alexander. My Alexander. Was Alexander even gay? Was he bi-sexual?

I bit down on my lip, and Owen continued to spill about Alexander. "Girl, trust me, everyone has a crush on Alexander, and the Hades brothers are all delicious from what I heard. He tattooed my thigh, and I don't know why, but let me tell you, I felt butterflies when he touched me. When his hands ran up my thigh, only inches away from my hard cock.My whole body felt sparks. He ignited my body," he finished saying.

I was feeling far too possessive to hear another man talk about him like that.

My mouth was dry, and the lump that had lodged itself in my throat was hard to swallow. I needed to know if Alexander felt the same way. "Does he know?" I asked him when I was finally able to speak.Bile raised, burning my throat.I suddenly felt sick to my stomach because the images of Alexander touching Owen and not me—destroyed me.

Owen laughed and shook his head. "Oh God no, sweetheart, but I felt something between us. And who knows, maybe he felt it, too. Why? Do you know him?"

Yes. Yes, I do know him.

"Ummm, I'm actually friends with him," I stuttered.

"No fucking way, babe! Since when have you had friends that are men, Quinn?" He turned his attention over to me, and his expression showed surprise. I giggled because I could see why he would find that shocking. My parents would never accept my friendship with Alexander. They barely accepted Sophie, which was only because she was my neighbor and her dad was a priest. "So, babe, since we're friends, can you please, with a cherry on the top, find out if he's single?" No. Hell no. No! A million times, NO! My brain screamed for me to tell Owen, no, but I didn't.

I couldn't.

"I'll ask him when I see him," I mumbled loud enough for him to hear me. Fuck, Quinn, what have you done.Twenty minutes later,we arrived. Owen unlocked his car, and we both walked toward the bookstore.

Six Days Later

I crossed the road to get to Terror Tattoo Ink. I swallowed the lump nervously, getting closer when I saw the closed sign on the metal doors. Great, I called out of work just so that I could use this time to come, but the shop was closed. I used this as my only opportunity since my parents were back home. As I was about to turn around and head back—I noticed a figure walking towards the door. I tighten my hold on the mason jar I was carrying.

It was him, Alexander.

His eyes locked with mine before he opened the door and unlocked the metal gate. "May I come in?" I asked him as he opened the gate for me to enter his shop. He moved aside to allow me to slip inside, and I rushed inside before he could change his mind. Alexander locked the gate and the door again before heading back down the narrow hallway and into his tattoo room.

I followed after him—closing the door behind me.He seemed to be working on designs, settling back down on his chair as I pulled the chair beside him and settled down. "Do you need something?" Alexander muttered.

I gulped and set the mason jar full of cranberry cheesecake on his desk between us. I then pulled two spoons from my backpack. "The other night was uncalled for. I'm sorry, Alexander. I shouldn't have said what I said and I understand why you were angry," I apologized as he continued to design.

He stopped designing and pushed the notebook towards me—showing me what he just designed. It was beautiful.I smiled softly and admired the design. "It's stunning," I admitted. My gaze locked with his.

"I think this one is even more beautiful," he claimed. I raised a brow as he stood from his chair and lifted his shirt, which gave me a glimpse of some ink. Oh my God, he's going to take off his shirt. I gulped–waiting, but nothing happened.

"You're such a tease. I want to see it," I whispered, frustrated, and he had the nerve to smirk and shake his head.

"Come see it, Princess," he challenged. His eyes met mine, and then directed his gaze to his shirt. I stood without a second thought and made my way over to where he stood. My fingers grazed the hem of his shirt and lifted it. My fingers brushed up against his warm skin. My eyes widened at the discovery. He got my drawing tattooed on his stomach. I chuckled and licked my lips–my fingers taking advantage. I traced around the design, making contact with his strong abdominal muscles. His fingers pushed a lock of hair behind my ear, causing me to look up—staring into his eyes.

His eyes were so green. They remind me of Deimos.

"I wasn't angry with you, Princess. The day I told you to leave was the day I tattooed it." He confessed. Relief washed over me, overtaking my body. I was happy to know that Alexander wasn't mad. I settled back into my seat and opened the mason jar, but before I could dip my spoon into the jar, Alexander took it from me along with my spoon. "Hey," I protested. He grinned.

"You brought that for me. It's my gift," he replied, his voice teasing.

I rolled my eyes. He took my spoon and grabbed a spoonful as I watched him eat. His Adam's apple moved along when he swallowed. He grabbed another spoonful, and before he could even put that spoon into his mouth, I moaned out his name. "Alexander!"

"Please, I've forgotten how good my cranberry cheesecake tastes," I pouted, giving him the best sad face I could muster.He took the bite, and cranberry sauce spilled from his lips. He took his thumb and wiped the sauce, closing the gap in three strides. "You want a taste?" he asked me, and I watched him put the mason jar back on his desk. I gulped and got nervous. I couldn't find my words, so I nodded my head. Alexander brought his thumb, which had cranberry sauce, up to my lips and brushed the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip. "Here. Taste it," he whispered, his voice hoarse—offering me his thumb.

I could feel my breath hitch, my face getting hotter, and an ache between my legs. The hungry and raw need that flashed in his eyes sent a jolt to my core. His words lit the match inside me, sparking every cell in me to life.

The air sizzled and sparked.

I licked my lips and swallowed the lump that had formed. Did I want to lick his finger? Hell yeah. Was I going to? Maybe, and before I could question anything, my tongue slipped out and ran along his thumb. I could taste the cranberry cheesecake on his finger. I wasn't sure what took over me or what in the hell possessed me, but I grabbed his wrist to prevent him from pulling away.

My lips wrapped over his thumb, but only about a quarter of it. I started to swirl my tongue lightly. His free hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to his hard body. His touch meant something, almost as if my body recognized it, and before I could do anything else, I let go of his thumb. The sensations I was currently feeling overwhelmed me. Alexander brushed his fingers along my cheek, gliding down to my jaw and under my chin—preventing me from moving. I stared into his eyes. They were darker than ever before. He leaned his head lower, almost as if he was going to kiss me.

My head was spinning. My heart was beating faster and faster. And suddenly I felt guilty. I was confused. I wanted him to kiss me, but the heaviness I felt in the pit of my stomach told me I shouldn't, especially after what Deimos and I did a few days ago. So,instead of taking action, I blurted out instead. "Do you like dick?" That caused Alexander to freeze his movements and step back— I definitely ruined the moment. Alexander's face had shock written all over it.

"Do I like what?" He asked me, his voice laced with confusion.

What was wrong with me? You don't ask people if they like dick. "I–I was asking if you—" I paused, unsure how to ask him. "Do you like men?" I questioned, spitting the words out faster than expected.Alexander chuckled, finding my question hilarious.He then grinned at me, almost like a smirk, but not fully there.

"Now, why on earth would you think that?" I shrugged my shoulders, not sure what to say. I could feel his eyes on me.

"I—umm… it's, um, curiosity." I managed to say after too many umm's finally.He came closer to me and looked down at me. "I'm not gay, Quinn," he pointed out. Suddenly, his lips find themselves by my ear. "I prefer pussy," Alexander added, pulling away after he had just whispered that, and the smug look on his face told me everything. This man was not gay. Alexander settled back onto his chair and continued to eat. I, on the other hand, settled on the tattoo chair.

"Well, that's good to know. Are you in a relationship?" I asked him, even though I had everything I needed to know for Owen. Who was I kidding? I was curious to know for myself.

Curiosity killed the cat, Quinn.

"I was—it's complicated," he confessed with a hint of sadness in his voice. I didn't know why, but my heart was hurting. "Oh, are you in love?" I asked him.

Alexander locked his gaze with mine. "Yeah, I'm deeply in love with her," he confessed.

He loves her. Whoever she is…he loves her.

I forced a smile on my face, hoping he didn't see the hurt I was feeling for some unknown reason. "Do I—umm, know her?" I continued my line of questioning. Alexander smirked, leaning against his desk, ankles crossed, arms folded over his chest.

"No, you don't," I swallowed hard. My right hand went up to my chest, where I was currently feeling this dull pain. He was in love with another girl.