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Chapter 7 You So Delicious

  • Careful attention was required today. Both tattoos we were working on today were complex with a lot of intricate shading. Complete focus was required for the quality of work we'd become known for.
  • It was the reason we were able to afford our tattoo shop and the loft we lived in above it. After doing a sleeve and chest work for the President of the Grimm Motorcycle Club a year ago, word had spread quickly, and bikers from several states made appointments for custom artwork.
  • I'd always loved to draw. My first job after we'd fled was with a local tattoo parlor. With an ID in hand that said I was eighteen, I certainly hadn't looked it, not with the fresh face and innocence of my true fifteen-year-old self at the time. The owner had been suspicious, but after some trial sketches, he liked my work enough to hire me anyway. I smiled at the irony-I wasn't legally old enough to get a tattoo, but there I was, madly writing in permanent ink on the flesh of every type of client under the sun.
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