Page 26 of End Game


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I’m getting a tattoo, something I never thought I’d do, since I’ve always been afraid of needles. I can’t think of the pain all three have mentioned when we’ve spoken about theirs, otherwise I’ll chicken out.

And this is a tattoo I really want.

*** *** ***

I’m impressed with the shop Levi has set up. He has six different rooms in one space, the tops of the doors fitted with glass, but the bottom made of solid, dark wood to give each client privacy. The counter at the front is painted black, andthe front of the shop it is covered in pictures and photographs of tattoos they’ve done. It’s great, and not at all how I pictured a tattoo studio. I imagined loads of skulls, snakes, and rock and roll on the walls, but instead, there is art. Beautiful, incredible art.

“Levi, this place is amazing,” I tell him, before my focus snags on a woman getting her thigh tattooed, the door to the room she’s in slightly ajar. She doesn’t even flinch when he scrapes the needle across her skin.

Banner nudges me, and I lower my head, embarrassed I was caught staring when the woman only has on a small pair of shorts.

“Sorry, did I miss something?” I ask.

They both laugh at me, and my cheeks heat.

“Follow me,” Levi says through his deep chuckles.

I follow him to a room at the back where a black chair that looks like it belongs in a dental clinic sits. On the side are bottles of lotions, a pile of tissues, cling film, and other bits and bobs. The machine next to the chair catches my eye for a few seconds before I start looking at the row of little bottles of ink on the shelf under the window.

“This is all amazing. If I had any artistic abilities, I’d totally be doing this. How long have you been doing it again?”

He chuckles as he sits down in his seat, gesturing for me to sit down in the dentist chair. I know it’s not, but that’s what I’m going to call it.

“I started doing it when Dad bought me my first gun at sixteen. I’ve been doing it, qualified, for six years, though. I love doing it.”

“I can see why. Some of these are fucking sick,” Banner says, flicking through a folder.

I try to peer over at the images but he’s too far away to see.

“Cheers,” Levi tells him, before turning to me, smiling. “Right, what do you want? A butterfly, star, dolphin?”

I roll my eyes at him, then turn to Banner. “He has it.”

Banner, hearing, looks up. “I have it?”

I chuckle at his puzzled expression. I’m a little nervous. I have no idea how he’s going to take it when I tell him what tattoo I want. “Yes. He has a semicolon on his thumb. I want it on the inside of my wrist,” I tell him, then swallow nervously. “And can you put Lara’s name in the middle, in script, please?”

Levi turns serious, clearing his throat. “I can do that.”

I try not to look at Banner whilst Levi starts setting stuff up. But when he wheels his chair over to me, I have to. He’s a hard person to ignore.

“You really want it?”

“Yeah. Do you think she’d like it?” I ask him, feeling a knot in my throat. He runs a finger down my cheek, and I soak in his warmth, closing my eyes briefly.

When I open them, the fierceness in his gaze has me catching my breath. “I think she’d love it. And she’d be fucking proud you’re going through with this.”

I laugh at that. “If she were here, she’d be teasing me, telling me not to cry.”

His smile is blinding. “Well, I have two shoulders, so if you want to cry, cry away. If you want to squeeze my hand, go ahead. But don’t break my fingers; I need them. If you need to bite something, you’re on your own,” he tells me, and I burst out laughing.

“You ready?” Levi asks, and I turn my attention to him.

My forehead creases when he raises the disposal razor. “Um, Levi, you do know I came for a tattoo, not beauty treatment, don’t you?”

Both he and Banner laugh. “It’s to shave the area,” Banner says, whilst Levi composes himself.

I blush, feeling stupid. “Oh.”

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