Devil's Due [h.s.]

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Somehow, in all my 22 years of living, I'd managed never to step into a tattoo parlour until today.

It wasn't that I hadn't wanted to or that I was avoiding them or anything, I just hadn't had a reason to. And if there was anything in specific that I was expecting, it definitely wasn't for the place to smell so... sterile.

"It smells like a hospital in here," I whispered, scrunching my nose up and pressing close to Olivia's arm as the five of us walked in the door. A swirl of excitement and eagerness filled the small front waiting space like a cloud.

My friend glanced over at me, giving my elbow a reassuring squeeze. "That's a good thing, bug. Means the place is sterile."

I chewed on my lip, nodding. Olivia hadn't even waited for my response, had already turned back around and was approaching the front desk. I hung back, surveying our surroundings.

It was a small enough place. Dark and bleak with a lot of harsh lighting and an array of photos scattered all over the walls. Clients, I assumed they were, proudly displaying their fresh ink or piercings that they'd acquired here.

Devil's due.

That's what the place was called. A pretty terrifying name, if you asked me. If it hadn't been for my four friends, I don't think I would have ever willingly walked in here off the street.

It was last Tuesday when the decision had been made. An average day – everyone piling into my tiny apartment once they were done school or work where we all shared a few bottles of wine and ordered pizza. I guess, during one bottle or another, it had been drunkenly decided that we were all going to get matching tattoos.

"It's quite literally the best idea I've come up with." Raven had mumbled, bracing a hand firmly on my shoulder to stand up on the couch and address us all. "What better way to honour our friendship than to ink it on our bodies for the rest of our lives?"

I, for one, definitely could have thought of at least a hundred better and non-permanent ways to honour our friendship but had chosen not to say anything – hoping that it was maybe just one of those drunken fixations that everyone would forget about in the morning.

They didn't.

If anything, everyone seemed more excited once they were sober.

"My friend Niall works at this shop downtown," Angel gushed, nestled in Raven's lap the next morning as we ate breakfast. Her girlfriend gave her a kiss on the cheek before leaning over to glance at her phone screen, where she had pulled up the website for the tattoo parlour. "I bet he'll give us a discount."

"A friend or some guy you used to hook up with?" Zoe had scoffed, eyeing Angel skeptically.

A week later, I still wasn't sure if Niall was actually a friend of Angel's or some guy she'd just slept with. She had ignored the question, promising Raven that she was the only one she loved, prompting a laugh from both Zoe and Olivia.

These things were easy for the four of them. Commitment had never been an issue and they were already littered with tattoos. I had none. I was a complete tattoo virgin. The whole idea of inking your body with something permanent, that you could never get rid of, had always been extremely daunting to me.

Needless to say, after an incessant week of pleas and bartering, I had finally been granted a pass from getting one – something I was all too thankful for. Showing up today had merely been for moral support, the least that I could do at this point, to watch all of my friends commemorate our friendship forever without me.