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“I wasn’t done.”
“Oh. Please, continue.”
“I will let you tattoo anything you want on me, in exchange for his phone.”
My eyes fall from his, staring at a blank space on his neck. Ideas flood my mind, some of them making me laugh out loud.
“See? It’s tempting, no?”
I bite down on my bottom lip as I come up with more ideas. “It is.”
I still don’t understand what he wants from my papa’s phone. I haven’t had the chance to look through it myself yet, but now he has me wondering if my own father is involved in something that would make Gio want to step in.
His head tilts toward the door of the shop. “Ready?”
“I guess so.”
I push open my door and slam it shut fast. “Wait.” I freeze. “What makes you think I will uphold thisdeal?”
He stutters as he thinks about the chances I won’t go through with getting the phone.
“Like, who’s to say I don’t just go in, draw a tiny dick on your skin forever, and you can’t do anything about it?” I smile. This is interesting to me.
“I figure you’d know better.” He glares at me.
I mean, he’s right. I wouldn’t, but just the idea amuses me. He is trusting me with a lot right now.
“Okay, let’s do this then.”
He waves his hand at me as he walks around the car to open the door. He’s trying to be a gentleman so I won’t ink something embarrassing into his skin forever.
His hand reaches for mine, and I take it.
We walk into the shop full of intimidating men—but none as intimidating as Gio.
“Genovese, who is this fine lady?” a woman with bright red hair asks as she leans over the counter, pushing her breasts together.
Every woman looks at him like that. It kind of makes me sick to think about how many of them he has been with.
I look up at Gio and he is looking down at me. I find a sense of reassurance in his look.
He reaches for his pocket, pulling out his wallet. “Just don’t ask.” He puts his credit card on the table. “Do what you want with the card.”
I rub my eyes when I realize just how much money he can throw at people to not ask questions.
“Follow me,” she says as Giovanni’s hand falls onto the small of my back.
Once we reach the back of the room, she tells me how to work the tattoo gun. Honestly, none of it makes sense, and I don’t think I can do this.
I have an idea of what I want to do, but if I can’t work the gun then who knows what will be on his skin?
“You got it?” the redhead asks as I lie and nod.
“Okay. Good luck, Geno.”
Geno?She has a nickname for him?
I stare at the platter of tools and colors.
