xxviii. don't go
"COME ON," JACKSON said, walking into his bedroom of the clubhouse and kicking the edge of the bed. Rinn looked up from her black book before nodding and closing it, clipping her pen on the outside of it. As soon as she had it shoved between the mattresses, she stood and followed him out of the room.
"We've been planning this for a couple days, now," he informed her as he handed her a bottle of scotch from the bar as they passed it. She simply nodded, listening intently as he explained.
"I guarantee it won't be your best experience, since you don't have any current tattoos," he nodded, looking up and down her body. Sheepishly, she stopped and leaned against a bar stool. Pulling off her DC shoe and down her sock, she exposed a small skull on the inside of her heel.
"Alright, I guess you do have some experience, then," Jackson nodded, causing her to stay silent as she took a large drink of the scotch. Without anything else to say, he lead her outside and to the garage.
As soon as they walked in, Rinn saw Cyanide setting up a table and pulling different tattooing tools from the inside of a tub. He glanced at her sideways, smirking a little at the look of calmness on her face. She didn't make any expression of annoyance, pre-regret or anger. She just looked at everyone in the room with a solemn expression, not saying anything.
Jackson walked her over to a chair, which she sat down on. Her put her chest on the backrest, leaning into it for a moment as she threw her leg over the side to situation herself. She looked up to see Denver watching her, waiting for what was about to happen.
"Take your shirt off," Cyanide demanded, causing her to nod and pull it over her head. She ignored the fact that she was shirtless in front of the group of men she was living with; she was sure they'd all seen half-naked women before this, so there was nothing to be worried about.
Cyanide unclasped the back of her bra and pushed the straps to the side, out of his way. Then, he brought his hand up and smoothed a piece of paper over her back. She knew what this was; the stencil of the art she was about to get permanently done on her body, to show her true dedication to the club.
After that was plastered on her back and in place, he peeled it off. For a moment, everything around her seemed still before she felt the coolness of his covered hand press against her back. The machine suddenly flipped on, the buzzing of the small tattoo gun ringing in her ears.
"Are you ready for this?" Cyanide asked, causing her to take a swig of the bottle of scotch and nod. Her hair had been tied up, so she knew it wouldn't be an issue. For a moment, she didn't feel anything.
Then, he pressed the needle of the gun to her back and began to dig into her skin, tracing over the line he'd drawn on the tracing paper earlier. She bit her tongue; the tattoo pain was an addiction, but as he traced over the line on her spine, she winced.
In all, it took four hours to get the outline done, along with some detail being filled in. Her back was numb by the end of the session, making her swallow hard as she stood. Her muscles ached from being in the same position for so long, but she took it all in stride, knowing this is what she had to do.
"That'll hurt like a bitch tomorrow," David chuckled, while Denver patted her upper arm gently as she stood. Cautiously, she nodded and crossed one arm over her chest, holding her shirt over her breasts as she made her way back towards the clubhouse.
Once there, she took a seat on a stool with no back. Cyanide walked over to her with a large piece of clear, stretchy plastic, laying it over her back after applying a cool feeling lotion. He told her to leave that on for between two and four hours.
YOU ARE READING
Miss Mayhem
Action"Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I don't like the face staring back at me," she whispered, looking down at the floor. Her feet were small in front of his and it was then that she realized how close he really was to her. He frowned, asking, "W...
