Untamed Hearts

17:- Just When I Had It Bad, It Gets Worse

XVII. Just When I had It Bad, It Gets Worse

A/N: Now this chapter begins the evolution of our golden eyed boy to a sharper edged human being.

Song of the day: - Hello by Beyonce.

Good Intentions by Dappy

Angelo Tallerico

It was time to get a new tattoo. I strolled into my tattoo artist's parlor and greeted him. It had been a day out of the hospital and I had been excused from school until I felt better.

"Angelo!" the bald pudgy man covered in tattoos boomed. "I ain't seen you around boy."

I smiled and shrugged lightly, "You know, been busy. You good, Mike?"

"You want a new one?" I nodded. He prepared his equipment and I took off my shirt.

"What do you want?"

"Delilah," I said simply.

Mike looked at me, "Your girl?"

"Something like that. Broke my sorry little heart."

"Sorry kid," he said sympathetically. "Where do you want it?"

I pointed to my chest where I could feel my heart beating. "Right here. Delilah in blood red and make like it's bleeding." Mike gets to work. I barely wince as the needle hits my skin. Instead the sensation is almost lulling. When he's done I look at it.

Delilah. The seductive traitor. The temptress. It fits. I like it.

I paid mike and walked out of the saloon. A silver Volvo was parked and the inhabitants watching me avidly. I met their gaze until they wavered, I was about to walk over and ask if they had a problem, with me when I heard a voice behind me.

"Angelo Tallerico. Ain't you a sight for sore eyes?"

When I turned to see who it was, I was not pleased. His dark hair was carefully cropped, he had a diamond stud in one ear and he was wearing an expensive looking suit paired with very expensive looking shoes. When he raised him hand, something glittered in the sunlight and caught my eye. A diamond watch. He grinned at me and I scowled. Just what I needed.

"What do you want?" I asked coldly.

He swaggered over and tutted. "Now is that anyway to treat your friend?"

I take a step forward and point my finger at him, "You're not my friend Salvadore," I growled.

He rolls his eyes. "This isn’t Harry Potter, man. I don't call you Tallerico in that tone of voice, now do I?"

"What do you want?"

"I come bearing gifts," he smiles.