Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Sarah was telling me the truth about having to take care of some stuff at the clinic. The light upstairs is on, which means she’s home.
It looks pretty safe here, of course. As usual.
I wonder if she really bought the bald-faced lie about my security concerns. The truth is, I’m probably the only person in town who’s trying to break into her clinic.
Sarah
I stare at the little black silhouette of a cat on my right wrist.
I’ve gone through a whole slew of emotions related to this tiny tattoo, and it’s not even two inches across.
When I first got it, I loved it. Even though the design was cutesy, I thought the inherent bad-ass quality of being tattooed would give me a little street cred before I went to college.
It also reminded me of a particularly naughty night when I’d had my first one-night stand. With a tattoo artist, no less.
Somehow, a little bit of ink made me feel powerful, like I was in control. It felt pretty bad-ass for a while.
Until my brother, in his usual non-confrontative way, gave me a little lesson.
“Peter, are you seriously doing this?” I asked incredulously. “This is so uncool.”
“If you think being uncool is a deterrent for me . . . think again.” Peter chuckled like he was a villain in a superhero movie. He didn't even slow his pace as he headed straight for the tattoo parlor where I’d gotten inked the previous week.
“You can't do this,” I protested as I scampered past the colorful display window of a toy shop to catch up to him.
“I’m going to repeat to you what my very grown-up sister told me this morning: ‘I’m an adult, and you can't tell me what to do.’”
Okay, maybe I’d been feeling smothered by Peter’s overprotective ways. He was doing a great job at being both my mom and my dad, but what can I say? I was technically an adult, but as an eighteen-year-old, I was still technically a teenager, too.
I laughed nervously. “That seems like a rather . . . black-and-white way of looking at things, don't you think?” I asked in a desperate attempt to sway his mind, even though I knew I wasn't going to. “There's room for compromise between adults, isn't there?”
“Nope,” Peter cackled. “You're new to this whole adulting thing so let me tell you something: everyone around you can do whatever they want, and there's nothing you can do about it.”
“I agree completely,” I said quickly. “Lesson learned.” I put my hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Great parenting, Peter. Well done. Let's go home now.”
Peter stopped in his tracks—had I touched a nerve?
He stared at me quietly for a few anxious seconds before he burst into laughter.
Yeah, probably not.
“This is the single highest point of my experience raising you in the past five years,” Peter said. “This is happening.”
When we entered the tattoo parlor, Luca raised a questioning eyebrow at me. To Peter, he asked, “She’s eighteen, right? I checked her ID.”
As far as I knew, he’d never talked to my brother before. But Ashbourne was a small town, and everybody knew of everybody else’s existence.
“Yeah, I’m not here to cause any trouble,” Peter said. “I just like your work, and I want the exact same tattoo you gave my sister, in the exact same spot.”
Luca’s stare flicked between Peter and me until he finally chuckled. Shaking his head, he said, “Sure.”
And so, for the next half hour, I had to sit there and watch as Luca inked Peter. There was only one tattoo table in the shop—the one Peter was sitting on was the same one I’d gotten fucked on.
My brother had crazy ideas. But I’ll have to admit this particular one worked.
Before he got a matching tattoo, I wanted to get a full sleeve or even a massive, yakuza-style piece on my entire back.
After? Just hearing the whirr of a tattoo gun reminded me of his stunt and . . . I mean, I didn’t want him to also match my magnificent back piece and make me hate it.
So yes, I swore off tattoos forever. I even swore off the sexy artist who’d inked me.
Peter stole both from me, but it wasn’t like I was angry at him. I was glad he’d found a friend right before I had to leave for college, and I didn’t want to ruin it for him. Since Dad’s death, Peter had sacrificed so much for me already.
Besides, it wasn’t like I was dying for another round with Luca. Yes, I liked him, but I was also leaving town for college soon. I’d told him it was just going to be a one-time thing.
At that age, though, I could’ve been persuaded to do it again, especially by someone as hot as Luca.
But now, I’m more careful. Methodical.
I don’t ever sleep with a guy more than once, and I make sure he’s not related to anyone I know. Just finding a stranger in this town would be a challenge, but there are always drifters passing through, and I’m willing to travel for the right guy.