“You can’t give me a tattoo!” I shrieked, a little too loud. “You don’t know how!”
“Course I do,” he replied, opening the door to the shopping mall and waving us in.
When I didn’t move, Noah laughed again and tugged me through.
“Since when?” I demanded, glancing back at Silas.
“Since this morning when I heard Cabe booking the appointment.”
I glanced at Cabe, but he didn’t look put-out. He was laughing right along with Noah.
Traitors.
“You learnt … how, exactly?”
“YouTube.”
“No,” I groaned.
He didn’t reply, leading us to the tattoo parlour that Cabe must have booked. He pushed open the door and Noah pulled me through. When he moved to the counter to talk to the man standing there, I watched in stunned disbelief as the man flicked his eyes to me, laughed, and accepted a giant wad of bills that Silas handed over.
Another traitor.
“Have fun, girlie,” the guy said on his way out of the store.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, completely deadpan.
“In all fairness, I did fake a registration and give him all the details on the phone earlier,” Silas allowed, before stealing my hand away from Noah and pulling me past the counter.
He poked around the room for a moment before directing me to a chair and crossing his arms over his chest.
“I don’t have time to do this today,” I lied, apprehension over whether Silas knew what he was doing or not getting the better of me. “I have to go shopping for Tariq’s birthday present.”
“Leave that to us,” Cabe announced from the doorway, delivering a wink before disappearing again.
“Traitors!” I called after him, before I could curb the shout.
Silas shook his head at me, moving to the table of tattoo instruments and pulling out a fresh sheet of paper.
“Here.” He dropped it into my lap, following it with a clipboard and a pencil. “Draw your design.”
I glanced down at the paper, aligning it with the clipboard, my interest piqued. “I can draw it myself?”
“Mmhmm.”
I glanced down at the paper, and then back up at Silas, before hesitantly picking up the pencil. As soon as I did, his lips twitched.
“You’re kind of evil,” I whispered, as I sketched out my heart monitor line.
He didn’t answer, and when I finished finalising my design, he was back at the bench of supplies. I handed over the paper and he blinked for a moment, his eyes flicking back to me. “Where do you want it?”
I tapped my chest, and his eyes dropped down, growing darker. “Off.” His voice grew deeper, gruffer. “Take it off.”
My hands were shaking as I obeyed the command, and I watched his broad back as he worked at the bench, my arms loosely crossed over my chest. When he returned to my side, there was an alcohol wipe in his hand and he was brushing it over my chest. He applied a temporary design all without saying a word, and then he rubbed some kind of ointment into the faint blue ink, making my skin look slick and shiny. He finally turned and palmed the tattoo gun, his eyes finding mine.
“You ready?” he asked, his voice still carrying that same gruffness.
“I think so.”
“It’ll be painful for a while.” His free hand gripped the headrest, his face drawing closer.
“But all the pain will be worth it in the end,” I told him, my smile returning in full force.
He brushed his lips over mine, and the nerves flooded out of me.
Everything was going to be okay.
The end
Also by Jane
STANDALONE BOOKS
I Am Grey (2017)
THE SERAPH BLACK SERIES
Book One: Charcoal Tears
Book Two: Watercolour Smile
Book Three: Lead Heart
Book Four: A Portrait of Pain
THE CURSE OF THE GODS SERIES
Book One: Trickery
Book Two: Persuasion (2017)
Book Three: Seduction (2017)
Book Four: Strength (2017)
Book Five: Pain (2017)
THE BEATRICE HARROW SERIES
Book One: Hereditary
Book Two: The Soulstoy Inheritance
Acknowledgments
The biggest thank you goes to my readers. I can’t thank you all enough. You stuck with me through four (let’s be honest: kind of traumatising) books, and if you’re reading this right now then you didn’t burn A Portrait of Pain. Unless you burnt it and then went and bought another one—in which case, thanks for the second chance. I know I’ve put you through some things, and I’m sorry for that.
Sorry for killing all those people.
Sorry for almost killing Silas.
Sorry for almost killing Cabe.
Sorry for almost killing Seph.
Sorry for almost killing Poison, Jayden, and everyone else.
Not even a little bit sorry for how it all turned out.
A massive thank you goes to my husband, as always. You’re crazy. We all know that. The trick now is keeping you crazy so that you never wake up and realise that this home we live in is an actual asylum.
Thank you to my brothers. You’re not allowed to read this book, but you’re still my biggest supporters. Best family in the world.
A BIG thank you to Victoria, my (apparently willing) slave. You help me beyond help, and I’m seriously looking into ways to permanently cement you into my life. My options so far are: adoption, same-sex marriage, or kidnapping. I’m working on better options.
An extra special thank you to the TWC Review Team this time around, because in the advanced copy I had a massive case of dyslexia. That’s my story and I’m sticking with it. “A little but of dyslexia never hurt anyone.”
Finally, thank you to the Ninja Squirrels, The Washington Club, my street crew, and the awesome bloggers out there making this such a fun industry to be part of!
Connect with Jane
WEBSITE
FACEBOOK
THE WASHINGTON CLUB
GOODREADS
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE
NEWSLETTER
INSTAGRAM
TWITTER
If you want to see the playlist for A Portrait of Pain (and other books), just visit https://play.spotify.com/user/janewashington
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