22. Chapter 22
Cameron
Life is great.
I’m normally not a very cheerful person, but since Justin came into my life, I often catch myself smiling for no reason. I even hum to myself as I work, which is cheesy as fuck. Yet, here I am, grinning as I outline Saint Michael on Giovanni Ventresca’s back.
I’m at his villa because there’s no way a self-centered prick like him would come to my studio, and there’s a bodyguard lazing in the corner.
He should probably be watching me like a hawk to make sure I don’t stab the tattoo gun into his boss’s eye, but his absent look tells me he’s either half asleep or busy daydreaming.
Normally, I would feel offended by the bodyguard’s presence.
I’m known to be trustworthy, and why on Earth would I want to murder a paying client?
But Giovanni is young and stupid, and the bodyguard is only here because he needs to show off, so I let it slide.
Besides, I’m too happy to let something silly like this bother me.
My pet is waiting for me at home and tonight, I’m finally going to fuck him.
Like I said, life is great.
Giovanni taps away on his phone as I work.
Bent over his back as I am, I can’t help but catch glimpses of his messages.
Not that I’m trying. If I were the snooping type, I would have been six feet under years ago, but coming to clients’ homes, sometimes I can’t avoid seeing or hearing things I’m not supposed to.
Like now. I catch several messages about arriving shipments, an order to take someone named Donnie out, and an invitation to a meeting at Indulgence.
That one gives me a pause. Not because I care about whatever Giovanni is up to, but because I haven’t visited Indulgence in way too long.
Sin will be pissed, and pissing off the club owner is never a good idea.
I just haven’t been in the right mood in the past few months. Now that I have Justin, though…
I could take him there. I’ve never taken a pet to the club, but Justin is different. I’m sure he’d be well-behaved, and even if he tried something, no one would care.
Indulgence is far from the usual legal kink clubs.
No one worries about consent or safe words there.
Sin’s only two rules are no minors and no dead bodies.
Other than that, anything goes. I’m not really into the kind of torture other members like to engage in, but I’d be lying if I said I haven’t participated in a gang rape or two.
It’s always fun when they struggle and beg.
None of the people I’ve ever been with beg quite so sweetly as Justin does, though. Even thinking about him makes my cock grow half-hard, which is quite inconvenient when I’m working on a half-naked client. The last thing I need is Giovanni thinking I’m into him.
At last, I’m done with the outline. I could work on the details some more, but I’m too distracted. It’s better to leave it for the next session.
I carefully wipe the blood off Giovanni’s skin, spread healing ointment over it, and secure a protective layer in place.
“Alright, we’re done here for today,” I say as I start packing up.
“Leave the film on for 24 hours, then gently wash it with lukewarm water and mild, unscented soap. Pat it dry and apply a thin layer of the aftercare ointment a couple of times a day. Avoid soaking it or exposing it to direct sun while it heals. You’ll find the full aftercare instructions in the leaflet I gave you.
If anything seems unusual, get in touch,” I recite my usual spiel from memory.
Giovanni isn’t listening to me, too busy twisting in front of a tall mirror to see his back. “I thought it would look better,” he says, scowling. “This looks like shit.”
I narrowly stop myself from rolling my eyes.
The customer is always right, sure, but what if that customer is a complete idiot?
“That’s just the linework, plus your skin is aggravated right now.
Once it heals, we can schedule another session to work on shading and color, but I recommend waiting at least three or four weeks. ”
“Weeks? That’s bullshit. I want it now.”
I’m surprised he doesn’t stomp his foot like an angry toddler. He certainly sounds like one.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible. The skin’s already stressed, and if I work over it now, the ink won’t settle properly.
It’ll blow out, heal patchy, and you’re more likely to scar.
Letting it heal is the only way to make sure it looks right.
” During our initial meeting, I told him that it would take a few months to get the full tattoo done, but I guess the stupid brat wasn’t listening.
Really, times like this make me wish there was a way to be a tattoo artist without actually interacting with people. People suck.
All except Justin, who’s been amazing for these past days.
He always looks excited to see me and is quick to kiss and cuddle me.
He never protests or fights me or throws tantrums the way my previous pets did.
He’s been a little quiet and distant lately, but that’s probably because I don’t spend enough time with him.
I’ve been too busy with work, but I already made arrangements to make it up to him.
“Two weeks,” Giovanni interrupts my pleasant daydreaming.
“I heal fast, and I won’t wait any longer.
My assistant will be in touch.” He waves his hand magnanimously, like a king dismissing a filthy peasant, and only the way I’m grinding my teeth together stops a few choice insults from leaving my mouth.
What an idiot. I bet he’ll ignore the aftercare instructions and end up with a nasty infection.
You can guess twice who he’ll blame for it. I never should have accepted this job.
Reminding myself that life is great, I let the bored bodyguard escort me to my car and gun the engine on the way out, eager to get back home.
I’ve rearranged my schedule to have a few uninterrupted days to spend with Justin, and I can’t wait to have some fun with him.
I stop by the grocery store to pick up some food and two large pizzas from my favorite corner store.
They’ll be cold by the time we get to them, but who cares? Pizza is good at any temperature.
By the time I get to my front gate, I’ve managed to shake off the annoyance from Giovanni’s bratty behavior, and I’m once again in the “everything is great” mood.
Sadly, it vanishes the second I spot the person leaning against my fence.
The moment I round the corner, he steps in front of the gate, effectively blocking my way unless I want to run him over.
Which I do, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want this asshole’s blood on my front bumper.
I drive as close as I can without ramming into him and roll down my window. “Detective Tiny!” I call with fake cheer. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
His jaw hardens so much I’m surprised his face doesn’t crack. “It’s Small.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. I’ve been getting emails about miraculous enlarging products that could help with that problem. I’ll forward them to you.” I probably shouldn’t needle the detective, but it’s too much fun to stop.
He scowls even harder. “Stop fucking around, Matthews.” In what’s probably supposed to be an intimidating move, he leans against my car, his jacket opening to show off his badge and gun holster. Unfortunately for him, I’m not easily intimidated, so I just keep on smiling.
“I wasn’t aware you were so interested in my sexual life, Detective.
I admit I have a one-night stand here and there, but I wouldn’t call it ‘fucking around.’ Besides, are you certain a dignified police officer like you should be using such derogatory terms?
You aren’t trying to slut-shame me, are you? ”
Honest to God, Small growls like an animal. How am I supposed to not laugh at that? “Shut the fuck up. You visited Giovanni Ventresca today.”
I cock an eyebrow, keeping my expression smooth but quietly wondering if he’s having me followed. If that’s the case, taking Justin anywhere is out of the question.
The silence stretches, and I curiously watch Small’s face grow redder with every second. “Well?” he barks out when he reaches a shade somewhere between a tomato and a lipstick my mother used to wear when she went clubbing, which was practically every day. “You’ve got nothing to say?”
“You told me to shut up,” I reply innocently. “I was being a good citizen and following orders.”
Small’s fists clench and one jerks toward his gun before he catches himself. Honestly, I keep wondering how a person with such anger issues could have become a policeman, let alone a detective.
“Don’t make me laugh, Matthews. A good citizen? You’re filth, and you know it. Why else would you be covering up for this?”
He shoves some pictures into my face. I’ve seen them before, or ones similar to them. Tortured people, raped and strangled girls, stuff that assholes like Small use to entice people’s conscience and make them work with the police. Too bad I don’t have a conscience for him to use.
I fake an appropriately horrified gasp. “Oh dear lord, this is terrible,” I say, looking away from the pictures like they make me sick. “Perhaps you should be out there, stopping these criminals, rather than harassing innocent citizens, Detective.”
For a moment, it looks like he will pull the gun on me.
I almost wish he did. I’d let him shoot my leg or something equally non-life-threatening, then snap his neck and call it self defense.
A rookie lawyer would get me out of that if there were a prosecutor bold enough to even charge me.
But no, Small manages to control himself, which means I’ll have to let him plague my life for a while longer.
“I know Ventresca has a shipment of girls coming in the next few weeks, and within a month, they’ll all end up like this.
” He waves the pictures. “You will go back to Ventresca’s house and get me intel on that shipment so I can stop it and lock that bastard away for good.
If not, I’ll make your life a living hell. Do you understand?”
“What will you do, Detective? Send the IRS after me? Send a health inspector to my studio? Have someone check my permits? Oh wait, you already did that, didn’t you?
Remind me what they found?” Absolutely nothing because I’m not an idiot and have everything in order.
It also helps to have powerful friends with contacts in the right places.
Small fumes because he knows he can’t touch me. He points to my house. “I’ll search every square inch of that place. I’m sure there’s plenty of interesting things to find.”
Plenty indeed, like the pet I’m holding in my basement.
If they tried hard enough, they might even find traces of my previous pets.
It’s not like I ever bleach the place. Have you tried bleaching leather-upholstered bondage furniture?
It doesn’t end well. It’s a moot point, though, because Small is never getting a warrant.
We both know his threat is empty. All he can do is keep inviting me to the precinct for repeated testimonies and make me wait for hours before he shows up, but even that harassment won’t last him forever. I’ll wait him out like I did before.
“Come back when you have a warrant, Detective,” I say, suddenly tired with all this. I just want to go home and cuddle with my pet. Is that so much to ask for? “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go home and get some rest. Some of us actually work, you know?”
Reluctantly, Small moves aside, but not before pinning me down with a stare that makes him look constipated. Maybe I’ll send him a gift certificate for some bowel cleansing procedures, along with the penis enlargement ads. Anonymously, of course. He’ll know they’re from me, but what can he do?
“Remember what I said,” Small says. “I want that information.”
I don’t hear the rest of his speech as I roll up my window and click the remote control to open the gate.
For a moment, Small looks like he wants to follow me inside, but to my chagrin, he stops himself.
He’s not a complete idiot and knows that the second he crosses the line onto my property, I’m suing his ass off for trespassing.
Ironically enough, I wouldn’t even have to go back to Giovanni to get the information Small wants.
I glimpsed the details about the shipment earlier today on his phone, but Small doesn’t need to know that.
Talking to the cops is a surefire way to get myself killed, and my clients are much more dangerous than one detective puppy with a lot of bark but no bite.
Tension slides off my shoulders as I park the car and head inside.
The pizza smells divine, and I steal a piece from the box before heading downstairs to greet Justin.
It tastes as good as it smells, the cheese melting in my mouth while the pineapple pieces explode with sweetness all over my tongue.
I won't let Small ruin my time off. I'm going to kiss my pet, fuck the living daylights out of him, and then we'll cuddle and have pizza.
Life is great.