Heart of a Tattooist: Dark Romance MC Club Alpha Bad Boy Obsession (Tattooist Series Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

scars covered Lillian’s upper body.
    Cara leaned in and said, “They didn’t keloid.”
    Shane nodded once. “Nope, and that means we can work on them.”
    Work on them? On the scars?
    Shane slipped on a latex glove. “Let’s see this.” His fingers ran gently over the scars. Lillian took a long breath. “You still have pain?”
    Lillian said, “Just the phantom kind.”
    “I know that feeling.” His voice said he did know it.
    Cara looked at him again, trying to gauge it out, but Shane was unreadable.
    Shane took out a pen and paper and began to draw a lovely series of things, long chains of flowers, a string of hearts on delicate loops and whorls. Then he went to the machine, copied them onto stencil paper, and came back with it and a stick of men’s deodorant. The usual tattoo artist’s trick. Press the stencil onto the skin, swipe the deodorant across the back to transfer the ink to the skin, and let the customer see what the outline of it would look like on their skin.
    Immediately the scars were transformed. Cara gnawed her bottom lip for a moment while Lillian stared down at the outlines and then she said, “Maybe if you added…here…” she took the pen and began to draw right on Lillian’s skin, adding detail and shading so that the outlines had more depth.
    She stepped back. Shane nodded and said, “Yes, precisely what I was thinking. You have a hell of a hand and eye, Cara.”
    “Thanks.” That pleased her.
    Shane snapped a pic and showed it to Lillian. “What do you think, L?”
    “I like it. Can I get it all done today?”
    Shane shook his head. “Don’t think so. It will take hours and it’ll be pretty painful.”
    Lillian said, dryly, “I’m used to pain.”
    What had happened to her? Cara wanted to ask but she didn’t dare. Whatever it had been it had been traumatic and life-altering, that was apparent. She said, “What if we both worked together, Shane? It would cut down the amount of time it would take.”
    Shane said, “We can try, but if it doesn’t shake out that it all gets done today don’t worry. Always here.”
    Lillian smiled. “Okay then.” She lay back down, raising her arms up over her head.
    Shane moved to one side of the table and pointed. “I’ll start here; Cara, you start there.”
    She nodded and went to get her gun.
    Shane called out, “You need fresh needles?”
    “I have a large supply.” She did. Her kit was as tight and right as it got and she knew Shane knew it. Everything was disinfected and she brought her own Hibiclens and gloves as well as topical skin creams and various other small items most tat artists just expected a shop to supply. Cara knew full well not all shops were the cleanest, and she was not about to put a tat on with less than sterile equipment.
    They began. The sound of the guns whirring and the smell of fresh ink and spilling blood hit her senses, and that calm she had always felt when she put a gun in her hand hit home. This was where she belonged, and she was back.
    The days of waiting tables in small diners and living in fear had left her confused and shaken, but they’d also given her time to think. She’d been arrogant and cocky, but she’d also been a great artist.
    She’d had a reputation for being cold and aloof, and it wasn’t until she spent a lot of time on buses wandering slowly down highways and through long nights that she realized just how much space she had put between herself and the rest of the world.
    It had begun when she was a child. Her parents were bikers, and their wild lifestyle often scared her. Since she knew just how vengeful bikers could be, she’d known throwing that peroxide on Junior’s back was akin to a death sentence, but it hadn’t been until she had gone on the run from that decision that she understood the whole of it.
    Her father was doing fifty years in prison. Her mother was also in the pen and doing hard time. Lots of it. She’d been a ride or die woman and she had always been