Page 51 of Bound By Ink

Scott:Derren, that’s insane.

Derren:That’s the cost of betrayal.

I throw my phone down, and I screw my eyes closed. The flip-flopping is giving me whiplash. I’ve already lost Killian. Can I afford to lose Derren, too? How much do I want this relationship to work? I just want someone to love me for me. Derren will once I’ve made this up to him. I think long and hard about it and realise, if this is important to him, I need to make things right.

Scott:I’ll make the appointment soon

Derren:Love you, baby.

My stomach flutters. He loves me, actually loves me. Although the end of today wasn’t great, I actually felt wanted, and the sex was much better. I just need to push a little more, try a little harder and give my all to this relationship. It was wrong to expect him to forgive me after one night. He’s right, it’s gonna take more from me. But right now, I just need to sleep. I’m exhausted.

Scott:Love you too

Killian

Chapter 27

My phone rings, and I grab it off the counter.

“Scott.” My voice cracks. I’ve not seen him since I dropped him home; he’s not talking to me, he’s ignoring me. Just seeing his name on my screen squeezes my heart, and my mouth dries.

“Killian. I need a favour.”

“Has he hurt you?” I snap out. “I will kill him if he has. Scott, are you hurt?”

There’s a sigh on the other end of the phone. “No, Killian, he hasn’t. We’re fine. I need a favour. I want a tattoo, and I don’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“A tattoo? Seriously. Scott, this isn’t you.”

“Can you do it or not, Killian?”

“Sure. What do you want?”

“I want his name.”

“Fuck, no! Scott, you can’t. It’s permanent. This is no fucking joke, Scott. Please don’t do this.”

“Will you do it or not?”

“Scott? Please reconsider this.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll go somewhere more professional.” His voice is cold and scathing.

“Scott, wait.” I shake my head; this is mental. But if I can control the narrative, I may be able to persuade him otherwise. “I’ll do it, but I decide where to put it, and I won’t have him in my shop. They’remyconditions. If you want me to do it, that’s my boundary. Be here at nine tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

“Scott…” Fuck, he hung up. I pick the pen pot off the counter and throw it across the room, yelling into the open space. I’m off work tomorrow. I’ve got an all-day gym session, gearing up for the fight next weekend, so I’ll squeeze him in and then go to the gym after. It won’t take long because I’ll make sure it’s the tiniest fucking dot. That wanker won’t win.

My frustration eases as I step around the counter and pick the pens up as my next client strolls in, smiling. I turn on my happy face and smile back. I give him my full attention until I start tattooing, and then I plot while creating his masterpiece.

Hours go by, and I keep my face void of emotion. I tattoo, shade, and wipe. When I’ve completed the design, I take photos and wrap the client. I scrub everything down. I use my pent-up anger to clean the shop, to scrub, and I get the back room ready.

We have a modesty room out the back for tattoos in private places. Tattoos where people need to be in a state of undress, or for those who need a more private setting, it’s a small room. Intimate. Perfect. I’ll be able to talk Scott out of this. If I can’t, I’ll make sure he gets the tattoo he deserves.

Sleep evades me, so I finally give up and crawl out of bed, dressing smart. I make sure I look good, really fucking good, spraying his favourite aftershave on, the one that he always leaned in a little closer when I wore it. I’ve been reliving everything, remembering every look, every comment, before I realised what he was to me, before I saw him for the man he is and not the child I loved like a brother.

It sounds wrong when I say it like that, but I haven’t thought of him like this until recently. But now, I can’t think of him as anything other than mine. He’ll realise it’s the only option by the time I’ve done with him.