CHAPTER twenty-six
Memories Seared Into Flesh
Cheyenne, Wyoming
We roll up to Twisted Tats, a weathered brick shop just off the highway outside of Cheyenne. The bus door swings open and we spill out, buzzing with anticipation, everyone riding high on the thrill of spontaneous ink.
Jasper hops down with his arm snug around Sasha’s waist. Cody falls into step beside Elias, trying, with great enthusiasm, to convince him to get “Shadow Daddy” tattooed across his ass. His pitch is met with a loud laugh from me and a shove from Elias that nearly sends him into a bush.
I end up walking next to Grady, who pushes his aviators up onto his head and flashes me a crooked grin.
“What about you?” I ask, nudging him. “Got a plan?”
He shrugs. “Not a clue. You got any ideas?”
I tap a finger against my chin, pretending to ponder.
“What about a vampire?”
“A vampire?” He chuckles. “What kind of random-ass suggestion is that?”
“Oh, it’s not random. I’ve been meaning to call you out. Are you aware that you sleep like goddamn Dracula every night? Arms crossed, flat on your back, creepy stillness and all. You even look smug about it.”
Grady bursts out laughing. “Well, shit. Sold.”
The shop smells like ink and incense. A low, thrumming track by some heavy metal band pulses from speakers overhead. A bell rings as we step through the door, and a lanky guy with sleeves of bold color ink and a long, braided beard greets us from behind the counter.
“How can I help you guys?” he asks, voice gravelly but warm.
Cody leans onto the counter like he owns the place.
“Think you got room for a few spontaneous masterpieces?”
“As long as no one’s asking for a full-back dragon, I think we can make it work.” He scans us over again, squinting slightly. Then his expression lights up.
“Wait—are you guys… Atlas Obsidian?”
Cody slaps Elias on the back like a proud stage mom.
“The one and only.”
“Holy shit,” the guy exclaims. “You’re seriously in my shop? I’m a massive fan. This is an honor.” He grabs a few portfolios and slides them across the counter.
“We’ve got three artists on today. Feel free to flip through these while we get stations ready.”
We scatter across the shop, browsing pages of designs. I thumb through the book without really absorbing anything, my mind tugged in another direction. I want something that captures this summer—the chaos, the music, the bond that’s formed between all of us. Something that feels like now.
Across the room, Elias is sunk into a couch, long legs stretched out, arms draped lazily on either side. I feel his eyes on me before I even look. When I glance over, his gaze catches mine. His lips twitch into a subtle smile, and I quickly look elsewhere, trying not to give anything away.
Sasha appears at my side, her excitement practically bouncing off her. Her braids sway as she spins slightly toward me.
“What are you getting?” I ask.
“A moth,” she beams. “Jas is getting a snake.”
“Nice. I’m still deciding,” I admit. “I want something to mark the tour, but it hasn’t hit me yet.”
Before she can respond, our tattoo fanboy reappears.
“We’re ready to get started,” he calls out.
Sasha, Jasper, and Grady are up first, settling into chairs as the hum of tattoo machines fills the space. Inked needles start their dance while Cody flops dramatically next to me, throwing an arm around my shoulders.
He ruffles my hair, and I retaliate by flicking his ear. He howls in protest, tugging the artist’s attention and a few snorts of laughter.
“So, Sunshine,” I ask, shooting him a look. “What are you getting?”
“A sun,” he grins. “Wearing sunglasses. Because obviously.” He says, fluttering his eyelashes.
I shake my head, laughing. “Perfect.”
He turns toward Elias across the room.
“And what about you, my brooding prince? Shadow Daddy on the ass still on the table?”
Elias doesn’t even dignify it with words. Just glares, which only fuels Cody more.
Then I hear it, the distant low rumble of thunder, the soft patter of rain beginning to tap the shop’s windows. My gaze drifts toward the glass, watching as the clouds swell and spill over the Wyoming plains.
And suddenly, it hits me.
The design. The memory I want to etch into my skin forever.
I smile to myself, the image already forming in my mind.
Once the buzzing stops and every tattoo is cleaned, wrapped, and taped, we proceed to the front to settle up. But the artist—the lanky, ink-covered man with the long beard waves us off with a wide grin.
“These are on the house,” he says, eyes gleaming. “Just snap a few pics with us and maybe sign the wall.”
We oblige, grinning for photos and scribbling our names on a wall already layered with the legacy of past visitors.
As we gather our things, Grady proudly unveils his new tattoo: a cartoon version of himself sleeping like Dracula, arms folded across his chest. It’s somehow both hilarious and disturbingly accurate.
While the others are distracted, admiring his ink, I catch a quiet moment: Elias slipping several crisp hundred-dollar bills beneath the edge of the shop’s laptop.
He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t look for credit.
Just a small act of gratitude. The kind of thing that makes my heart ache in the best way.
It’s well past time for food, so we make the short walk across the street to a barbecue food truck parked on the sidewalk. As the others take their place in line, laughing, I slow my pace, hanging back until Elias falls into step beside me.
I glance at him.
“So… what did you end up getting?”
His lips tug into a lopsided smirk.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Oh, right. Mr. Mysterious strikes again,” I tease, nudging him with my shoulder. His low laugh rumbles in his chest.
He shoots me a sideways look.
“What about you?”
I pause and carefully peel back the edge of the black tape on my forearm, just enough to reveal the small tattoo inked into my skin.
“A lightning bolt?” he asks, his tone a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It’s the same lightning bolt that is in the band’s logo.
I stop walking so I can really look at him, the warm evening light catching in his eyes. The others are already ordering, out of earshot.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Because you boys hit my life like an unexpected storm… and lit it up in ways I never saw coming.”
Elias doesn’t answer—not with words. But the look on his face says everything. Like he understands exactly what I mean… because maybe he’s feeling it too.