The Tattoo Artist (La Petite Mort #1)

29. Chapter 29

twenty-nine

Quinn

I t had been a few days since I last saw Deimos. I saw Alexander two days ago, and we talked about his work and his grandfather. Isaac was sitting down at his usual spot with a new book. I had two hours left of my shift and was counting down the minutes.

"Quinn, sweetheart," Isaac called out.

I raised my head and saw him calling me with his hand to come over. I pushed the rolling chair and stood up, making my way over to him. Taking a seat next to him, he looked straight at me and smiled. "I wanted to remind you that my birthday is this Saturday and you can't miss it. My grandson will be there," he said, nudging me.

I giggled at his silliness.

Two hours later, I made my way out with my bag in hand, ready to catch the bus. Sophie couldn't pick me up today because she had something to do. When I made it outside, I noticed the sky was barely starting to get dark. Heading for the bus stop, I hit play on my phone and listened to the audiobook I'd been listening to for the past two days.

As I turned the corner to the bus stop, my gaze made contact with Alexander, who was leaning against the bus bay. My eyes roamed his figure, taking in his black jeans that were way too snugged around his thighs and the black T-shirt that hugged his biceps. His tattoos were on full display, and his green eyes seemed lighter today.

"Hi," I greeted him. I was happy to see him, especially since we hadn't talked much outside of work.

"Hey, Princess," he replied with a smile.

That smile had the potential to cause butterflies to swarm my tummy and my heart to skip a beat. I wasn't sure why I felt this way about him, but Alexander was definitely not indifferent to me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him, finding it strange since his grandfather had left almost an hour before.

"I'm taking you home," he answered with a sly grin. Alexander opened the door and signaled for me to get in.

"Get in," he demanded, and I couldn't help the grin that appeared on my face. Alexander was possessive and demanding. He was rough on the outside, but I knew he could be sweet and gentle on the inside. I slipped inside, settling my bag on the floor, when suddenly Alexander leaned forward and clicked my seatbelt into place.

The drive to my house was silent except for the background music. My eyes shifted over to Alexander, taking in his arms and the veins that ran along his forearm. Alexander was most certainly good-looking, and I wasn't blind to that. I found his tattoos added to the dangerous vibe he gave off.

"You like what you see? Princess," he teased with a smirk as he caught me watching him.

"I umm. I–I was admiring your tattoos," I said, stuttering with my words, feeling my cheeks heat up. He stared down at his arms, taking in his tattoos, almost like he was reminiscing.

I was excited about Isaac's birthday party, especially after Alexander asked me to save him a dance. Three hours into the party, I still had not seen Alexander. I'd seen a few couples dancing and laughing. As I stood around aimlessly, waiting for someone to ask me to dance—Alexander walked in looking even more handsome than ever. A black suit never looked so good. Alexander had the first few buttons of his shirt undone. He looked like a CEO, a boss–almost like a billionaire you read in books. Most of his tattoos were covered except those on his hands and neck.

His hair was styled back, and his dark stubble added to his appeal. It made him look older and unquestionably more attractive. His eyes were darker, and it was almost as if he knew I was looking; his eyes were linked with mine.

I looked away.

How could I ever possibly think Alexander would be attracted to me? He was in love with someone else, just like Deimos. I was wearing a dark green hourglass dress that hugged my small waist. What I loved about this dress was the side thigh split that showed my thigh when I walked. I had Sophie to thank for this dress since she went and bought it for me. Looking around the room, I felt absolutely hideous compared to the other women my age. They had on shorter dresses that looked more sexy and fun.Too consumed by my thoughts, I didn't notice anyone standing by me until I looked to my side and saw Alexander staring down at me. Our eyes connected, and the look in his eyes made me feel like I was the only person in this room with him.

"Alexander."

"Quinn," he said, and the way he said my name made me feel defeated inside.

I scoffed. "I guess the word 'princess' has left your dictionary," I snapped. I closed my mouth at the realization of what I just said. Shit! I didn't mean to say that. Why did I say that? I mentally facepalmed myself.

He chuckled to himself, and I flushed.

"I thought you wanted to dance?"

I nodded my head because he was right. I wanted to dance. Ever since his grandfather invited me, I'd been practicing. Then Alexander mentioned that people would be doing the waltz, and I wanted to join in on it. "I do, but no one has asked me to dance." I softly smiled. Alexander opened his mouth to say something when suddenly a woman arrived and interrupted us. She had long brown hair and brown eyes. She was beautiful, and her long black gown hugged her every curve.

"Alexander, you look absolutely edible," she teased, taking hold of his arm. "Your grandmother said you needed a dance partner," she purred. I stepped away a little to the side, my heart aching for some reason. I could feel Alexander's eyes on me. Please, ask me. I silently prayed, hoping Alexander would ask me instead, but he didn't. Instead, he walked away with her, leaving me to wallow in pity.

As I watched them both on the dance floor, I bit my lips and made my way to the corner of the room. I couldn't watch them any longer. Was that her? The woman he was in love with? The same feeling of pain struck my heart. Both men in my life love other women.

Was I just a rebound? Was he still in love with her? Did he imagine her while he kissed me?

I was on my third glass of champagne, my thoughts running wild as I reminisced about Deimos's touch on my skin. The images that flashed through my head caused my stomach to flutter. I was on fire as my skin was burning with need. He made me feel incredible.

Deimos kissed every part of my body as if it were his favorite flavor.

I giggled.

I would be a dead woman if my parents ever found out about Deimos. Not even Deimos could protect me if they discovered everything I had let him do to me. My heart ached even more knowing Deimos was in love, especially knowing he had disappeared from my life since that day. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard laughter coming from the dance floor. I glanced up and saw her laughing, touching his chest.

She was everything I was not. She was beautiful and sexy.

I was eighteen.

He was twenty-four.

The night was slowly ending, and I never got my dance. I never got to waltz. I stood up and offered to help clean up. Alexander left a while ago with what her face was since both were nowhere to be seen. Thirty minutes later, the room was pretty much empty. Isaac offered to find his grandson to give me a ride, but I had told him not to worry that Sophie would be picking me up. As much as I would have liked to ruin his night with that girl, I couldn't.

Turning around to say goodbye to Isaac, I see Alexander leaning against the wall. His arms are folded over his chest. What was he doing here?

"The party ended an hour ago," I stated the obvious.

"I know. But I owe you a dance, Princess," he added, giving me his signature smirk.

"No, you don't," I was quick to reply.

"Plus Sophie will be he–," Alexander shushed me as his fingers touched my lips. He slid his hands around my waist and effortlessly dragged me to the bare dance floor.He pulled me closer to him, our chests touching. He moved us gently around the dance floor. His hands stayed on my lower back, and my hand rested on his bicep while the other was enveloped with his.

I looked away. The hurt I had felt earlier had resurfaced ten times more potent. "Princess, look at me," he demanded. With my heart pumping so fast, I was sure he could feel it, too; I glanced up.

His eyes were too familiar.

My mind kept telling me that he was too similar to Deimos.

Those green eyes.

Those lips.

That night, I almost believed Deimos and Alexander were the same person, but that was impossible. They had similar features, and I felt the same things for them both. Deimos had the devil in his eyes, while Alexander did not. Plus, their hands were different. Alexander had a butterfly tattoo, and Deimos had the sign of death.

Two opposites.

"He's in love," I whispered against his chest. I didn't have to say who because Alexander knew precisely who I was referring to. He tilted my head up so that our eyes connected .

"And how does that make you feel?"

"I'm in love with the devil, but his heart belongs to someone else," I confessed. I have so many questions swirling through my head right now and no answers. Alexander's fingers grazed my cheeks, and his eyes looked down at my lips. For some reason, the way he was staring at me jolted my memory. Everything about Alexander suddenly felt like—

Gunshots.

Flashing lights.

Sirens.

Water.

Coldness.

Darkness.

My head hurt, and the images that flashed through my mind were confusing. I ignored the feeling and continued dancing. My head rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Alexander came back to dance with me. "Is she the girl you're in love with?" I asked him, needing to know if that was the woman who owned his heart.

"No, Princess," he replied. I felt instant relief, lifting the pressure that was crushing my chest.

"Wh-what does she look like? The woman you're in love with. "

Alexander tilted my head up once again, two fingers under my chin. "Her eyes are bluish-gray, the color of the sky. Her hair is copper in color, but sometimes it has more of an orange undertone. She has high cheekbones that go pink to red instantly.Her lips were pink in color, and her nose was small. Her eyes held passion. Her hair was soft, shiny, and silky," he continued to describe her, and the more he said, the more I thought he was describing me.

She sounded like me.

I had copper hair and bluish-gray eyes. My eyes scanned every centimeter of his face.Why did I feel like that was deja vu? I groaned out in pain, grasping my head with both hands. The pain was unbearable. I pushed away from him and looked around. My mind was fuzzy, and I felt dizzy.

"Quinn," I heard his panicked voice. I felt his strong hands around my waist. "Princess, what's wrong? Look at me, baby," his voice pleaded with me.

I covered his eyes with my hands and whispered in his ear to describe me. "Your eyes are the color of the sky when it's fighting between clear skies and thunderstorms. Bluish-gray eyes that go lighter or darker depending on your emotions, and I'm the lucky bastard that gets them all." He chuckled and continued. "Your hair is fiery copper in color with orange undertones that look great wrapped around my hand," he teased, and I couldn't help but get flushed.

"Your cheeks go pink to red instantly, loving the way they get when I make you cum. You, my butterfly, are utterly beautiful," he confessed, and I pulled my hands away. I was smiling at him before crashing my lips on his.

My legs gave out on me, and I went limp into his arms. My eyes shoot open, bored into his. My chest feels tight, unable to breathe. I grabbed onto my throat. His eyes widened, and I could see panic in them. Alexander settled me onto the floor gently. "Quinn, baby," he pleaded before everything went black.