Tattoo Lust: A Tattoo Romance Collection Read online

  “How?” I ask, suddenly a little eager to venture further underground. “How do you win eighty thousand dollars?”

  Stone’s blue eyes brighten and the ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Money hungry, Kitten?”

  I scowl, but I’m not about to deny it. If there’s a chance I can make my life a little easier, I’m not going to say no. “I’m starved, and stop calling me Kitten. It’s not my name.”

  His slight smirk pulls wide and wolfish before he straightens his shoulders and disappears into the dark tunnel ahead. I wait for a few seconds, expecting him to tell me how to win the money, but he doesn’t. That’s when I realize he isn’t going to wait for me, either, and I jolt into action. I grab my bag and hug it close to my chest. Fear makes a quick reappearance. It twists my stomach and threatens to drag it south at a moment’s notice. I move swiftly and follow his movements, keeping my head low enough to graze the network of pipes above me. Eventually, above the smell of mold and dirt, I smell his cologne and I relax at the thought of having him close.

  “There’s a low concrete edge here. Be—”

  The concrete edge he’s talking about introduces itself to the top of my skull with an echoing thud. I dip low and rub at my forehead, gritting my teeth to ease the ache.

  “Ow,” I snap in a hushed whisper.

  “I told you there was a concrete edge,” Stone states, his voice filled with husky laughter. Asshole. “How hard did you hit it?”

  I brush the tips of my fingers over the front of my pulsing skull. “I hit it pretty hard, but not enough to leave a bump, I hope.”

  I have enough issues with my appearance as it is. I don’t need an egg on the middle of my head to make me feel worse. I’m not bad looking, not really, just…plain. I’ve never colored my hair and I don’t wear make-up. My eyes are a light brown, my lashes are short and my nose is a little on the pointy side. If I had more than eighty thousand dollars, maybe I’d look into new facial features or accentuating some of my strengths. For now, though, I’ll settle for Italy.

  Keeping exceptionally low, I follow Stone through the channel. Eventually, after descending three lots of service stairs in utter darkness, he leads us into a wide, well-lit tunnel—one I can stand up in. Along the concrete, cockroaches the size of my palm scatter before squeezing themselves into tiny cracks and crevices. You’d think that for ten thousand dollars entry they’d find a better place to situate themselves other than the pipe system of an abandoned warehouse. All points of money aside, it’s an interesting place. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a system as big as this. These channels belong to an underground storm water system built to allow thousands and thousands of gallons of water through at any one time. If it storms, we’re dead.

  Sticking close to Stone, I follow him down another tunnel. In the distance, I can hear muffled cheering and chanting. He follows it and it gets louder and louder until the very concrete I stand on vibrates beneath my shoes. My heart begins to pick up speed, pumping blood around my body faster than it can accommodate and my head spins as a result. I reach out and press the palm of my hand against the concrete to stabilize myself.

  “Anxious?” Stone asks, peering over his shoulder with a hint of amusement on his lips.

  I swallow my anxiety and brush off my hands. “No.”

  In front of him, I notice another door. This one is makeshift. Pointless, really. Doors are supposed to keep things out—or in. This door, made of decaying driftwood, isn’t enough to keep out one of those gigantic cockroaches, let alone a person. I guess that’s why they have the brute upstairs, manning the entrance.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a large cockroach. I gasp as it skitters over the orange light and pushes itself through a crack in the door. I shudder. I’m not a hater of insects; in fact, I’m certain lots of different kinds of creepy crawlies reside in my apartment. Nonetheless, cockroaches have always bothered me.

  Stone notices my distaste and shakes his head. “Get used to them. You’re going to be sharing the same space for a while.”

  “Courtesy of you,” I spit back.

  He angles his large body in my direction and towers over me. His intense, blue eyes zero in on mine and I can’t look away. He’s terrifying. “I saved your life.”

  “Temporarily. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in an underground storm water system. All it takes is one large dump of water and we’re both dead.”

  Keeping his stare on my face, he thumps his fist against the door. “Afraid of a little water, Kitten? Drowning should be the least of your worries.”

  I purse my lips as he stares me down. Next to us, the door opens, but neither of us acknowledges it. I’ve never had a submissive personality. My entire life I’ve had to fight for the things I wanted and when I got them, I never let them go easily. That’s not about to change. I can sense the control in him too. He needs it like I do, but I believe I have the advantage. I deal with needy, spoilt patients, day in and day out. He can’t crack me.

  “I’m not afraid,” I challenge him, squaring my shoulders. “And stop calling me Kitten. My name is—”

  Beside us, a man clears his throat, startling me. I’m first to break eye contact and look at the man who opened the door. He seems normal enough—average height, lean build, no distinct facial scars and his brown hair is cropped just below his ears. As I analyze him, I can feel Stone watching me with his piercing eyes.

  “Jai?” the man states, confused. “I thought you were coming alone.”

  If Jai is his name, what’s Stone? His nickname? Speaking of which, I need to clear up the nickname situation and fast, before everyone knows me as ‘Kitten.’ The thought turns my stomach.

  “He was,” I state, smoothing the palms of my hands down my shirt to rid them of a clammy sweat. “But then I happened.” I extend my hand to the man. “I’m Emily.”

  Cautiously, he watches my hand for a few awkward seconds before giving it a quick shake. His dark, green eyes survey me, taking in every detail. He’s unimpressed; I can tell. It’s not a foreign look; I get it all the time.

  “You don’t look like an Emily.”

  I frown. “No?” I ask, unable to hide my agitation.

  What the hell does that mean? Is there a certain way I’m supposed to look? Are other Emilys tall? Athletic? Blonde?

  “I don’t think she looks like an Emily either,” Jai chimes in, leaning against the concrete wall.

  There’s a grin on his face, one that both annoys and intrigues me.

  “Don’t you dare say it,” I warn him and his eyes flare.

  “She’s feisty, playful and scared of a little water.” Jai feigns thought, angling his head to the side to get a better look at me. “She looks like more of a...Kitten. Don’t you think, Marcus?”

  The man at the door, Marcus, snorts and smiles widely. “Sure does.”

  “You’re both assholes,” I deadpan, trying my hardest not to let my aggression surface.

  If I don’t make a big deal about it, maybe it’ll go away. Marcus’s green irises flick over me once more, this time analyzing me a little more intimately. I feel naked, as if his stare has stripped me bare, but Jai doesn’t notice. And if he did, why would he care?

  “How long you think she’ll last?”

  Jai shrugs. “A few minutes—maybe.”

  “So I should bet against her, then?”

  I stand still, shocked that they’re having a conversation like this in front of me. It’s like I’m not even here. I’m not going to lie; I’m a competitive person. I don’t like losing, no matter what it is, and the fact they think I can’t win makes me want to prove them wrong.

  Jai doesn’t answer straight away. Instead, he rakes his teeth over his bottom lip and thins his eyes, pondering his answer.

  “I wouldn’t bet against her,” he states, surprising me. “But I wouldn’t throw all of my money down for her to win either.”

  Marcus nods and steps aside. No more words are exchanged and Jai ente
rs in through the door. I follow him, doing my best to slip by Marcus without making eye contact. Although normal enough, there’s something unsettling about him.

  A distinct groan and a loud cheer echoes down the tunnels. It vibrates through my body, sending my heart racing. What are we walking in to?

  It doesn’t take long for me to figure it out. We follow the tunnel for another twenty yards before it veers off to the left. The roar of people somewhere in the tunnel is loud, almost ear-piercing.

  “You ready?” Jai shouts over his shoulder as he comes to a stop.

  Bright lights filter in from the end of the tunnel and chains rattle and men grunt as flesh connects with flesh. My skin prickles with the sensation of a million ants and energy frissons through me, zipping like lightning all over my body. I’m breathless and I haven’t seen it yet—whatever it is. Jai reaches out and grips my arm. I move with no resistance as he tugs me in front of him and nudges me closer to the end of the tunnel. I swallow in a breath of heavy air and expel it slowly. My body is excited, coiled and aroused by the anticipation of it all. Even my nipples strain hard against the fabric of my bra. What am I going to see? What have I become a part of and why do I suddenly crave it so badly?

  I pause at the edge of the tunnel, not daring to peek out. From where I’m standing, I see glistening men and women, smelling of sweat and sex. They’re cheering at something, something that rattles and clashes with metal. I cringe as chains strain and flesh becomes bruised. Jai plants a heavy hand on my hip, and immediately, I become hyperaware of it. His pulse radiates into my skin and I shut my eyes for a moment, hypnotized by the sound of complete chaos.

  Above us, a city sleeps, but down here, anarchy rules.

  Chapter Four

  The Underground

  It’s a cage. And it’s hanging over a massive tunnel by rusty fucking chains. It’s the first thing I see when Jai pushes me further out of the tunnel. The cage rattles and swings as two men smash their fists into each other’s faces. They duck and roll, kick and punch, and every time they do the cage shudders and creaks. Jai talks in my ear, but I don’t hear him, only my heart. It beats like a drum in my head as the metal box of death bounces, threatening to snap and send them both plummeting to their death at any second. At least one hundred people fill the surprisingly large area. Men and women of all sizes lean against concrete pillars and hang from unstable bars. Small trails of water trickle down from surrounding tunnels and pour into the large one in the middle—the one the cage swings above. I can smell blood and rust mixed in with sweat and mold. The dust in the air is heavy, clinging to damp skin and refusing to drop off. Specks of it settle in my lungs and tickle my nostrils, but I don’t care. It makes me feel alive, like the life I was living thirty minutes ago was all a ruse. The pores on the surface of my skin tingle and vibrate, urging me to take off my clothes and feel the dirtiness of this place on my naked body. My clothes suffocate me and my heavy bag pulls on me, making my muscles ache. I slam into the large expanse of Jai’s back. Groaning, I stumble backwards and catch his brief look of frustration. The way he furrows his brows at me forces me from my stupor.

  “Most of you know me,” a deep, baritone voice announces.

  That’s when I realize the entire room, if I can call it that, is silent. Even the fighters in the cage pause their fight to hear him speak.

  “But for those who don’t, my name is Skull.”

  My ears prick up at the mention of Skull, and I follow Jai’s hostile stare up to a small concrete ledge. Three men stand on it, looking down at us as if we’re nothing but cockroaches. Two of them stand with staunch postures on either end of the ledge, their arms folded tightly over their chests. And the one in the middle, Skull, is as terrifying as his name paints him to be. The black ink on his face is exactly what his name states.

  Skull.

  His face is a skull.

  I’ve seen it once before on the Internet somewhere, but never in person. I didn’t know there was someone else, somewhere, crazy enough to do something so…so permanently scary.

  “You all know how this goes; you’ve all seen Fight Club, but just in case the message wasn’t clear…”

  One of the staunch Russian-looking men pulls a smaller man out on to the ledge. He whimpers and begs, but Skull ignores him. The small man’s lean, tattoo-less body makes him look almost innocent beside Skull and his goons.

  “I won’t tell anybody, I swear,” the scared man pleads. “Please, I was just out for a late-night walk. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

  His light brown hair sticks to his forehead and his eyes are wide, so wide I’m sure they’re going to fall from his head at any second.

  “Sorry, mate,” Skull says, his strangely sophisticated Australian accent shining through. He slings an arm over the man’s shoulder and forces him to lean slightly over the railing. “Can’t risk it.”

  “What’s going on?” I whisper to Jai, dragging my stare onto his face.

  He gives me a side-glance, one that sends dread burrowing through my stomach. “You’ll see.”

  I don’t need further explanation. My lips part as my heart stutters. They’re going to kill him? The crowd surrounding us roars to life and the sudden uproar startles me. I look up in time for Skull to finish dragging the sharp edge of his knife through the pleading man's flesh. I gasp and cover my mouth as blood gushes out of his throat and rolls down his chest. I barely have time to catch my panicked breath in my hands before Jai’s fingers curl around my wrist and he forces my limb back to my side.

  Murder. Holy shit. I’ve just witnessed murder.

  The thought sticks to my insides like tar. I’ve seen death many times—working in a hospital puts you directly in the face of it...but this is different. In hospital, it’s life, an everyday situation. Here, it’s wrong—unnatural, even.

  Skull doesn’t speak as the man bleeds out. The crimson liquid slows to a dribble. It drips off the metal railing and into the small trickle of water that runs underneath the cage before disappearing into the large, and probably bottomless, tunnel. Eventually, the cheering dies down and Skull finally lifts his eyes to address us once more.

  “You’re all part of a secret brotherhood that has gone unnoticed for a hundred years. Most of you know the guidelines, but I see some new faces in the crowd tonight.” His black eyes flick over me and I inch closer to Jai as they pause and come back to settle on my face. “For those who aren’t familiar with how I run things, let me let you in on three simple rules. One.” He grips the dead man’s hair and pulls his head back until the slice in his throat is on display. I’m the only one in the room who shudders. “Don’t talk about it.”

  Skull grabs the man by the back of his shorts and tosses him over the railing like rubbish. His lifeless body slaps against the concrete. The sound chills my blood and sends it burning underneath my skin, but I don’t let my gaze fall from Skull’s. I don’t want him to know I don’t fit in here—that I’m here by accident. The way he stares at me, though, makes me feel like I have it branded on my forehead in bright red ink.

  Skull wipes the wet blade he used to cut the innocent man’s throat against his white T-shirt. Angry red stripes paint the fabric, but he doesn’t care.

  “Two; don’t kill anyone outside of the cage. And three; you fight when it’s your turn, or you die.”

  I swallow hard. I have to fight? That’s how I’ll make the money? I’ve only been in two fist fights in my entire life—both when I was thirteen, and I lost.

  “Until the rounds end, this place is your home, this brotherhood your family. Fight well and you shall be rewarded. Lose and you’re out on your ass with no money in your pocket, and no respect from your brothers or sisters.”

  I fight the urge to slump into myself as Skull finally frees me from his dark glare. He lets his glower drag over the scattered crowd with malicious warning before turning and disappearing through a smaller service tunnel with his goons in tow.

  It’s silent for a
moment and I can’t hear my heartbeat. For a second, the only sound I hear is the unsteady trickle of water as it patters against the mossy concrete, and the creak of the rusty chains that strain under the weight of the fighters. I turn toward Jai and open my mouth to demand he kill me now—I’m dead, anyway—but the sudden sound of bone smashing into flesh beats the words off my tongue, forcing them to remain in my throat. As the crowd starts up again, Jai snags my elbow and tugs me through the horde of eager fighters. I keep my head low and my shoulders up, but I’m still clipped by hard elbows and loose hands. By the time we reach a clearing on the other side, I’ve taken more hits to the head than a footballer and a killer headache brews at the base of my skull.

  “You’ll stay with me,” Jai orders, stuffing a rogue earpiece from his iPod into the pocket of his hoodie.

  “Like hell I will.” I force my slipping bag up underneath my arm.

  I don’t know what I’ll do without Jai, but staying with him opens doors for more problems. He’s the reason I’m in this mess in the first place.

  Jai glares over my shoulder from underneath his brow and I return it without hesitation. It takes me a few seconds to realize he isn’t glaring at me, but at something behind me. Slowly, I crane my neck to look over my shoulder. I smell vodka and ass before I see the face that breathes it. And what a face it is.

  “Fine,” Jai simpers. “If you don’t want to stay with me, you can stay with him.”

  I recoil at the thought and inch closer to Jai. It seems facial tattoos are a growing trend. The foul-smelling, private-space invader licks at the spider tattooed on the corner of his mouth, and strangely, I feel sorry for it. No one or thing should be touched by this man’s tongue. I peer up at Jai and manage to conjure my most convincing ‘help’ look. I can’t stay with creepy spider man; I just can’t. With a sigh, Jai flicks his hand at the stranger.

  “Beat it, asshole.”

  The ‘asshole’ lingers for a long second, his beady blue eyes flicking between Jai and me. When Jai steps forward, his spine straight and shoulders squared, the man smirks and quickly turns on his heel. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until Jai pushes past me and steps up onto a ledge. Clasping my bag tightly under my arm, I let the air out and follow closely behind him. It’s clear now. Without Jai, I’ll be eaten alive.