Page 315 of Knox Academy Omnibus
He chuckles and holds up a quick sketch of the Celtic knot. It’s still missing something. He can sense that I’m not a hundred percent convinced. He holds up a finger and wheels the chair back to his desk and starts to draw again.
“Sawyer’s a good man. You're a lucky girl. He’s been through so much, yet he still has a level head.”
“I'm extremely lucky. He is one of the best things to happen to me.”
Ross turns back my way, slides his chair closer to me and holds out the design. I smile. It’s perfect.
“The circle in the middle has the vine wrapped around it. The vine represents the struggles in life, and being a woman in this world, you’re going to face a lot.”
“It’s perfect.”
“Where is this going?”
“On the back of my neck. Dead centre.”
He frowns, but doesn’t say anything. I see his own Order tattoo on the back of his left hand. I know the rule, but it’s stupid. If I’m having a damn mark left on me forever, I will choose what it is and where it goes. I may belong to The Order, but my body is my own and always will be.
I raise a brow at Ross as if to say ‘do we have a problem here?’ and he gives a slight shake of his head in return, indicating to me to tie my hair up. I do, then take off my jacket and lie on the table. He shaves the area clean before spraying on something cold and positioning the image on my neck.
It’s time.
Ross starts up the machine and the buzz startles me. It’s louder than I expected. When the needle makes contact with my skin I grit my teeth. It hurts, like a bitch actually, especially on the bones of my neck. I feel the vibrations all the way into my skull but I suck it up. I have to keep still, I’m not fucking this up.
It takes longer than I thought it would, but I’m kind of glad about that. It means Ross is taking his time. Maybe he’s scared to mess it up, knowing who I am. Or maybe he just takes pride in his work. Or maybe it just takes a completely normal amount of time to complete. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never had a tattoo before. This might just be my one and only. Although people say they’re addictive, I’m not so sure.
When I’m done, I thank Ross and then head out to find Sawyer. He’s sitting on the sofa, scrolling through his phone.
“Work or play?” I tease. I can hardly picture Sawyer playing games on his phone. And I don’t think he even knows how to switch off from work.
“Do you really need to ask?” He grins up at me and immediately pockets his phone. Not in a suspicious sort of way, more like, I’m going to give you my full attention now. I like it. “So, let’s see it then.”
“No way!” I cry. “No one is seeing this until it’s all healed and pretty.” Sawyer chuckles at me.
“So no sex for another week or so then?”
“We can have sex,” I reply with a flirty wink. “Just not doggy style.”
Disbelieving, embarrassed coughing comes from behind me and Sawyer laughs loudly while my cheeks heat.
I refuse to look around at Ross.
“I think that’s our cue to leave,” I say.
“Absolutely. Later, man.”
Shoulders still shaking with laughter, Sawyer kisses me on the lips.
Chapter Eleven
Amelie
Sunday rolls around, and I get the dreaded text. It’s dinner time. Last night was unreal. Kalen invited me to a party at the lake, but I didn’t go because I was so busy with Order business. The weather is finally warming up enough that I can remove my fluffy socks, and I have to miss out on the first summer party because I have responsibilities now.
I had a meeting with Monty about the upcoming elections in some weird-ass country I’ve never even heard of. Apparently The Order have a vested interest in the outcome – though I don’t really understand why.
Monty explained that The Order are deeply embroiled in politics, that sometimes they take favours – bribes – to ensure the right person gets elected. Sometimes they pay others to have their man in the seat of power. I guess it isn’t so strange to learn that a powerful organisation can pull strings like this, but I’m definitely struggling to understand why they need to.
My understanding is that The Order has more reach, power, wealth and status than could ever be imagined. But what do theydowith it? What’s the point? If I have to oversee it all, I want there to be a purpose.
