"Do you want yours to match hers?" Butch asked Eric.
"Less swirls in the lettering and bats instead of butterflies, but yeah."
Rebekah tensed when Butch dragged the buzzing needle across her skin. It felt like someone was scratching her repeatedly. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as she'd expected, but adrenaline continuously pumped through her body. Eric held her hand the entire time and kept asking if she was okay.
"Why don't you try taking my mind off it instead of reminding me that someone is jabbing me with a needle eleventy million times?" she asked testily.
"Sorry."
"Do you still have that jagged crack I inked between your shoulder blades?" Butch asked Eric.
"Yeah. I haven't even modified it. Still looks great."
"That's the first tattoo I ever did professionally," Butch said. "How old were you, Eric?"
"Um, fifteen, I think."
"Yeah, he tried to tell me he was eighteen. I figured he was lying, but I needed the experience, so I put him under the needle."
"I like that tattoo," Rebekah said. It looked like a crack in the earth that led to hell. The fingers of a demonic hand protruded from the fiery interior, clinging to the edge of the fissure, as if trying to escape. She sucked a breath through her teeth as the needle passed over bone for the first time. "Ow." Another surge of adrenaline coursed through her body.
Butch paused to let her catch her breath. "Okay to continue?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Your name wasn't even Sticks back then," Butch said. "What was it again?"
Rebekah strained her neck to look at Eric. He was scowling.
"Anderson," he said finally.
"Sticks isn't your real name?" Rebekah asked. The needle scraped over her spine again. "Ow."
"Yeah. I had it legally changed when I turned eighteen."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want my mother's fuckin' name anymore, that's why."
Apparently a testy subject.
"And that design he wanted on his back?" Butch said. "He told me it was a crack in his soul to let the pain escape. Pretty profound for a fifteen-year-old kid."
"You have a big mouth, Butch," Eric grumbled.
"You haven't told her any of this stuff? No wonder she's willing to have your name inked across her back."
"The past can't be changed," she said. "The future can't be predicted. All we really have is the present. So none of that matters to me."
"Isn't she perfect?" Eric murmured.
"It's about time you found the perfect girl," Butch teased. "You're practically an old man."
"Twenty-eight next week. I am gettin' up there."
"Your birthday is next week!" Rebekah sputtered. "How come you didn't tell me?"
"Never occurred to me."
"What day?"
"December third."
She didn't have much time to put together a special surprise for him. "Well, happy birthday," she said. "In case I forget." As if.
He took her hand and linked his fingers through hers. "Thanks. I never thought I'd live to see twenty-eight. Live fast, die young."
She squeezed his hand. "Don't say things like that."
"Okay, all finished," Butch said. "Take a look."
While Rebekah admired her new tattoo in a full-length mirror, Eric helped Butch design the tattoo that would be inked on his lower belly. Butch's assistant helped Rebekah put salve and plastic wrap over the new addition to her body, while explaining how to take care of the tattoo until it fully healed. By the time she snuggled against Eric's back, her adrenaline rush was starting to wan and she was already thinking about where she wanted her next tattoo.
"When we first decided to do this, Eric said he was going to get my name tattooed on his penis," Rebekah said. "Have you ever tattooed a guy's penis before?"
"Yeah, more often than you'd think."
Rebekah eyed Butch's tattoos. Besides his face, and most of his fingers, there wasn't an inch of undecorated skin on him. She wondered …
"Before you ask," Butch said with a chuckle, "no, my cock is not decorated. At least not with ink." He laughed at Rebekah's wide-eyed expression.
"Pierced?" she squeaked.
"Multiple times."
Ouch. She glanced at Eric, who turned pale. "Don't even think it," he said.
She was curious about what a cock piercing would look like, and feel like, but wouldn't admit it in front of Butch. To distract herself, she peeked over Butch's shoulder at the design he was sketching on thin paper. Eric was showing him where to put the last few musical notes. She noticed it wasn't the same melody as hers. "I thought our tattoos were going to match," she said.