Capítulo 95: Its not gun.... It is a Machine....
"Are you sure about this?" Nate asks.
"No."
"Do you want to leave?" He grips my hand harder and kisses my temple.
"No."
"What the hell, McKenna?" The tattoo-covered man smirks at Nate and smiles kindly at me. He's the guy with the weapons of mass destruction. "You're gonna be fine, sugar. What you're getting is tiny, and it'll take me all of ten minutes, tops."
"I can't believe I'm doing this." I close my eyes and lean my head back in the tattoo chair. Mr. Tattoo leans the chair back so I'm lying flat.
"Okay, pull your pants down."
"Fuck, dude, really?" Nate glares at him and it makes me giggle.
"Just a perk of my job, man." He smiles and shrugs, and I relax until I see him pick up a gun-like thing and come toward me.
"Wait." He stops with his eyebrows raised. I lick my lips. "Um, how many tattoos have you done?"
"Thousands," he responds.
"Are you good with that gun-thingy?" I ask and he glares at me.
"This is not a gun. It's a machine."
Oh.
"Are you good with your machine?" I ask and a wolfish smile spreads across his handsome face and Nate swears under his breath again.
"Honey, you have no idea."
"I'm serious."
"Okay," he sits forward, his elbows on his knees, and looks me in the eye. "I've been doing this for almost twenty years. I majored in art in college, so I'm pretty good. I've never had an unsatisfied customer. You saw the portfolio earlier."
I nod and take a deep breath. Besides, he's right, what I've chosen is super small.
"Sweetheart, we wouldn't be here if I didn't think he's the best." Nate squeezes my hand reassuringly again and I relax a little.
"Okay." I unbutton my jeans and shimmy them down so my left hip bone is exposed. I point out where I want it. "Right there."
"No problem, just sit back and take some deep breaths." Tattoo guy – I've forgotten his real name by now in my panicked horror – rubs the stencil on my skin, pours the ink into little tiny plastic jars, and picks up his machine.
When he turns to me with it in hand, I feel my eyes go wide. "You're going to try to kill me with that thing, aren't you."
"No," he laughs hard and shakes his head. "This is going to be quick, really."
"Look at me," Nate says, his voice full of humor. I look up into his soft gray eyes and grip his hand more firmly as I feel Tattoo guy grip my hip with one hand. "Just focus on me, baby. What do you want to do when we leave here?" He brushes my hair off my face and smiles down at me. The machine starts up and I flinch.
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