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Chapter 11
Sammi
8:54 PM FRIDAY
The clanging of the bells fades, soon replaced by a mechanical hum.
I take a swig from the bottle of tequila, sighing as the magical tonic washes down my throat.
“Maybe you should slow down, darl.” Lock teases, removing the bottle from my hand.
He takes a swig of his own.
Yeah, right.
There’s a mild but insistent pain in my shoulder.
Lock reaches over me, passing the bottle to the monk currently tattooing my skin. He doesn’t even slow as he drinks from it, the tattoo rod continuing with practiced ease.
The monk removes the bottle from his mouth and passes it back to me. Not once does he break eye contact with his design.
I admire his attention to detail. Not to mention his ability to pound tequila.
I raise the bottle back to my lips, catching Locks eyes as I do.
He raises one eyebrow in question.
Should you really do that?the look says.
Damn straight I should.
I take an even bigger swig as punishment for his audacity before passing it off to him.
He chuckles and shakes his head, his sandy blonde hair falling in a way that makes me bite my lip.
I can’t help but think of the cabaret earlier. Of him under that table.
I feel myself getting wet again at the thought.
“How’s it feeling, Sammi?” he asks.
“Not too bad, really. Tequila helps.”
From outside, we hear giggling. It’s the sound of my BFFs making mischief, I have no doubt.
“So are you guys like…priests?” I hear Percy ask someone on the other side of the door.
“How do you mean?” a man responds, his voice heavily accented.
“Oh, youknow…” she says. “I just have a,uh…a thing for priests. Wanna bang?”
From the silence that follows, I take it that he doesn’t.
I hear Liam laugh, breaking the awkward pause.
What the fuck are they up to?
“Well,” Becky chimes in, “I was just looking at those flowers. What kind are they?”
