Chapter 8 #3
I immediately averted my gaze from this wanton display.
“What is this place?” I muttered.
Lee followed my gaze and chuckled. “That’s a tattoo shop.”
I gave him a blank look.
He gestured at my chest. “It’s where people put symbols on their bodies, like your markings.”
I frowned, confused. “And women get these markings?”
“Yep.”
My brow furrowed further. “Are they slaves to the emperor?”
Lee snorted, laughing so hard he had to clap a hand over his mouth.
I crossed my arms. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”
Lee wheezed, shaking his head. “No, Roman. They get them by choice.”
I stared at him, bewildered.
“…And the snake woman?” I gestured vaguely at the display window, still unable to look directly at it.
“Also by choice,” Lee said, grinning.
I exhaled, my head spinning. This century made no sense.
Lee reached for the door handle of the tattoo shop.
“Where are we going?” I asked, hesitation creeping into my voice.
“This is a combo barber and tattoo parlor.” Lee grinned over his shoulder. “You need to look like a modern man, not an uncivilized warrior.”
He yanked the door open and stepped inside. “You look like a barbarian, Roman.”
I reluctantly followed him—
And was immediately assaulted by a loud, incessant buzzing.
It sounded like a swarm of a million insects trapped in the room.
I flinched, scanning my surroundings.
Men and women—their skin covered in elaborate markings—bent over other men and women, moving strange devices across their bare flesh, carving symbols into their skin.
“What is making that incessant noise?” I demanded.
“Those are tattoo machines,” Lee said. He didn’t seem bothered by the chaos around us.
I stared in horror as the ink was drilled into people’s skin.
Before I could demand further explanation, Lee led me through a side door into another room where several men sat in chairs, having their hair cut.
A tall, swarthy-looking man, his arms covered in symbols, looked up from the man he was working on.
Lee clapped a hand on my shoulder. “I have a customer for you, Sebastian.”
Sebastian’s dark brows shot up. “Oh, hey, Lee!” Then he narrowed his eyes at me. “Is it that guy?”
He pointed directly at me.
“Yep,” Lee smirked. “This is Roman Alexander.”
Lee gestured between us. “Roman, meet my friend Sebastian the Great.”
I stepped forward, extending my hand. “You must be a warrior. I am also.”
Sebastian paused, shifting his scissors and comb to his free hand before pumping my arm in greeting.
“Uh… sure,” he said. “Some people think so.”
I frowned. “Doesn’t your title designate your greatness?”
Sebastian blinked, then grinned. “Oh, that. Sebastian the Great means I’m a badass hair barber and tattoo artist.”
I tilted my head. “Badass?”
Sebastian squinted at me. “You don’t know what badass means?”
Embarrassed, I shook my head.
Sebastian frowned. “You from another country? You sound like you’re from England. I thought they used the term ‘badass’ over there.”
“I, uh, don’t get around much.” I cleared my throat, scrambling for something believable. “I don’t follow… trends.”
Lee snorted, but I ignored him. Jack had once attempted to explain social media to me, tossing around words like trending and viral. I had no idea what any of it meant.
Sebastian didn’t seem convinced, but he let it slide. “It’s just a word that means I do excellent work.”
He combed the heavyset man’s hair between his fingers, slicing it off at the ends with precise snips. His expression darkened for a brief moment. “My work helped me recover from the brutality of war.”
A beat of silence passed.
“Roman fought in warrior games overseas,” Lee said smoothly.
Sebastian’s head lifted. “Oh, you’re a military man, too?” He looked to Lee as if searching for confirmation.
I hesitated, glancing toward Lee.
“That’s right,” Lee said, nodding. “Roman is a military man.”
I nodded, hoping that was enough.
Sebastian set down his scissors and reached for a small brush. “I served in Afghanistan. Brutal. Where did you serve?”
Shit.
“He served in special forces,” Lee interjected, coming to my rescue. “Top secret. He can’t talk about it.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, that kind of military. Got it.”
I straightened, schooling my expression into something serious. “That’s right. Very special. Very secret.”
Under the emperor’s domain, but still unique.
Sebastian chuckled. “My brother’s a spy, too. He comes home for Thanksgiving, and we can’t get a word out of him.” He shook his head before turning back to his client. “Okay, Frank, we’re done. Lisa will check you out at the front desk.”
Frank stood, brushing hair clippings from his broad shoulders.
I studied him for a moment. “Does Lisa verify that you have done an excellent job?”
Sebastian blinked. “What?”
I gestured toward Frank’s head. “Frank’s haircut seems to have been done well.”
Lee made a strangled noise, covering his mouth.
Sebastian smirked. “Uh… thanks, I guess.”
Lee cut in quickly. “English isn’t Roman’s first language.”
I shot him a look. “Wait, yes, it is. I grew up in—”
Lee’s eyes narrowed in warning. “It’s a phrase, Roman.” He turned to Sebastian. “It means he didn’t learn all the subtleties of English when he grew up in his tiny village in Europe.”
Lee gave me a small nod—Follow along.
“Ah! Right. I didn’t master the subtleties.” Lifting my chin, I threw in what I hoped was an air of mystery. “I have been gone… for a long time.”
Sebastian gave a nod, his skepticism evident, but he chose not to push.
Lee clapped me on the back. “Let’s get you in the chair, warrior. Time for a makeover.”
Sebastian grabbed a broom and swept the clippings of Frank’s white hair into a neat pile. “Let’s get you spruced up.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Spruced up?”
“Looking good, my man. Looking good!” Sebastian patted the black leather chair.
I hesitated, then sat, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable.
Sebastian retrieved a misting device and sprayed a fine mist over my hair. Cool droplets settled against my scalp, making my skin prickle.
Then, he picked up a buzzing tool, a long cord trailing behind it.
He flipped a switch, and the tool came to life, vibrating with a hum eerily similar to the tattoo machines.
My fingers twitched against the chair’s arms.
“Head down. We’re gonna give you a fade.”
I had no idea what that meant.
But I surrendered to Sebastian’s ministrations, knowing that questioning every phrase in this strange world would only make me look more foolish.
Lee and Sebastian continued chatting easily as if they had known each other for years.
Then, Sebastian pressed the buzzing device to my head.
The vibration rattled against my skull, and thick hair waves tumbled to the floor.
I stiffened.
Panic seized my chest as more and more of my hair fell around me.
I wasn’t vain but had always taken pride in my strong, warrior’s appearance.
What would Olivia think when she saw me again?
Olivia, my love… I hope to be with you soon. Once we find this Tristan fellow…
Sebastian laid the buzzing device down.
I exhaled in relief.
But long strands of hair still hung in my eyes.
Sebastian lifted sections of my remaining hair, snipping occasionally as he continued his conversation with Lee.
Then, satisfied, he picked up the buzzing tool again—this time, he fitted something over the tip.
He brought it toward my jaw.
Instinct took over.
I jerked my head back, my pulse spiking.
Sebastian stopped mid-motion, eyebrows lifting in alarm. “Whoa, man—what did I do?”
Lee turned to him. “PTSD. Roman’s got it bad.”
Sebastian nodded knowingly. “Yeah. I get it. I’ve got it, too.”
Lee faced me. “Easy, Roman. He’s just gonna tidy up your beard. Clean you up a little. It’s not going to hurt.”
I stared at the buzzing device in Sebastian’s hand. Then, at Sebastian himself.
I swallowed and forced a nod. “Please proceed. I’m sorry I reacted.”
Sebastian waved it off. “Don’t worry about it, man. I get it.” He exhaled through his nose, eyes flickering with something distant and raw. “The weirdest things can trigger it. And then—bam!—you’re right back on the battlefield.”
His jaw tightened. His gaze went somewhere else entirely.
“My kids’ laughter echoes through the house,” he murmured, voice hollow.
“Then, a siren wails. A dog barks. Somewhere, a mother cries.” His hands gripped the chair’s armrest. “I live with this… constant hum, this buzz in my ears. Gunfire. Explosions. Screams. I hear the death rattle of the men I failed to save. The screams of…”
His voice faltered. His shoulders tensed. Then, with a shake, he blinked back to the present. “Shit, man. I’m sorry.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “This fucking PTSD sneaks up on you when you least expect it.”
I didn’t understand everything he was talking about. But I understood loss.
I nodded solemnly. “Bam.”
Sebastian breathed, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly. Then, his focus returned to my face. He finished his work silently, the buzzing device humming against my jaw.
When he finally stepped back, he whistled low. “Damn. You do look good if I say so myself.”
He snapped his fingers toward the counter. “Lisa!”
A young woman looked up.
Lisa’s short pants clung to her legs, a tight shirt stretched over her chest, and pink hair twisted into two high ponytails gave her a mischievous, youthful appearance.
She sauntered toward us, her eyes roaming over me like I was a prize at a gladiator match.
“Damn, baby, you look hot.”
My spine locked up.
Heat crept up my neck as Lisa approached, far too boldly for a woman.
Even she was covered in symbols—vivid designs in ink, sprawling over her arms and neck.
Did Olivia… wear such inappropriate attire when she lived here?
My stomach twisted at the thought.
Lisa reached up, took my jaw in her hand, and tilted my face side to side, studying me with interest.
I froze.
This century… was utterly insane.
Lisa let out a low whistle, giving Sebastian an approving nod.