The Irish Tattooist

Chapter 19

Very short chapter today fam. unedited as always~

His voice stopped me in my tracks, dark and filled with memories I could just feel he didn't want to remember. 

But he was doing it for me. 

I turned in the doorway and leaned on the frame, staying silent so he could continue. After a moment, I went back over to him and sat by his side- letting my fingertips graze over his arm. 

"My mother had died in childbirth, and sometimes I'd like to think my father was a good man before I was born. But he had a core made for anger and he used it on me" Ripper moved his eyes away from mine, gritting his teeth. 

"He beat me every day from when I was old enough to stand it. Belts, fists, broken beer bottles. I remember wanting his blood on my hands so vividly, I planned several different ways to kill him." Ripper shrugged a shoulder, a slight smirk settling on his face. "I never used any of them. When I was fifteen and stronger than him, I strangled him till he went unconscious. Then when he was awake, I ripped his throat out with my bare hands and shoved it in his mouth so he could choke and bleed to death" 

I held in a gasp, images crowding my brain. And even though it was horrible- horrible to think about and horrible to do- a part of me wasn't surprised and was insensitive to things like this. I had seen it enough to understand the animalistic ferocity of anyone who was captive by someone else or their own mind. Hell, I had done near worse things to people. 

Ripper glanced my way and continued speaking. "The police had known about the abuse for  years, but were too scared of my pa to do anything about it. So when they found out I had killed him, they swept it under the mat and I got a slap on the wrist" 

He traced a scar on his arm. "But I was homeless now so I went to fight on the streets. Made a lot of money and was never monogamous with anyone. I usually had two, three girls each week that hung around me and who I used for sex. Hammer was with me by then, and had a reputation for fucking and pounding the heads of anyone who got in his way" 

"And then Hugh came along. Your pops might have told you that I came to him, but it was different. I didn't want to stop ripping off people's limbs, throats and organs- I was just too angry. Your father took me in, weaned me off the blood thirst and women, and made me who I am today" 

He took my face in his hand, gentle and firm at the same time. His eyes pored over mine, breath mingling. "And the man I am today is so fucking in love with you, I wonder if the only reason I had survived was so that I could make you my world" Ripper's hands drifted down my face, voice breaking slightly at the end of his sentence. 

A tear fell free from my eyes and I could feel my heart beating in my throat. This man loved me so much- so, so much it showed in every line of his face and body. Ripper dropped to his knees on the floor, head falling onto my lap, hands gripping my thighs tightly. 

"I've killed, stolen, beaten people to bloody pulps- and I am going to do it again. But I love you Corin. And I'm praying to God you don't leave me"

How could I leave a man so honest and who had never done wrong to me? 

 Surviving was apart of who he was- and that entailed all sorts of things. As long as he didn't hurt me or my family- which I know he would protect, I wouldn't leave him. And that was scary. My heart felt full, almost to the point of overwhelming me, and it was full of love for him. 

I dropped to my knees in front of him and cradled his face in my hands, forcing his eyes on mine. 

"Don't pray. I'm here" 

And I would be. For a long while.