Teddie's.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
TEDDIE
Thud. Thud. Thud.
My aching head pounded, relentless and heavy.
I tried to open my eyes but they were dry, crusty. My mouth was worse, with a bitter and unpleasant taste on my tongue.
Someone groaned. It took a moment to realize it was me.
I tried again to open my eyes, only to close them again against the glare.
What the fuck?
The ice cream.
Victor.
What had he done to me?
I wriggled my fingers. Then my toes. They still seemed to be attached to me.
I pressed my hands against my sides. My clothes were intact. Shorts, t-shirt. Where were my shoes?
Over the thudding in my head came a buzzing. A moment later, a sting on the inside of my thigh.
I jerked.
A hand clapped around my knee. "Hold still, Curly, I'm nearly done."
Curly? Nearly done? What the hell?
I forced my eyes open. I was lying on a kitchen table. The chairs had been shoved aside. Hastily, if I had to guess.
One of those chandeliers that looked like an alien space station hung directly above me, bulbs illuminated except for one on the left side. Why did that matter? It didn't.
Who was the man holding my knee, squinting at the inside of my thigh, right below the line of my shorts.
Victor.
"I should have left you in the basement," I told him. My voice was croaky. I licked my lips to wet them.
He glanced over at me and grinned before turning back to… What was he doing?
I pushed myself up on my elbows and gaped.
"Tell me you're not tattooing me."
"I wouldn't want to lie to you." He tightened his grip on my knee when I tried to pull away from him. Truthfully, my effort was weak at best. Whatever he gave me, I was still groggy from it.
"I don't think you give a shit about lying to me," I said, scathing. "What the fuck did you do?"
"Now, now." He waved the tattoo gun at me before he went back to work. "Don't lose your shit."
"I really should have left you in the basement." I tried to kick out with my other leg, but he was leaning over me, holding it down with his stomach.