Shield's Devotion: Book One

Chapter 3: Aurora

"Ow, fuck this hurts like a bitch," Taylor whines as the tattoo artist touches the needle to her right forearm.

"Stop being a pussy. The tattoo is literally going to take twenty minutes to finish at most," I roll my eyes at her extremely low pain threshold.

The ride to Houston was a long one but it was definitely interesting. Taylor thought it would be fun to read all of the dirty sections of "Fifty Shades of Grey" in a theatrical manner while I was driving. Some of them were intriguing, some were unheard of, and some were just down right disgusting.

"You better be glad that I love you," she points her perfectly manicured finger at me.

"This was your idea. It's not my fault that your pain tolerance level is at a zero. Besides, these two arrows are going to be the sexiest tattoos ever. So shut the fuck up and take it like a woman," I lean to whisper in her ear, "Just like you would take Mr. Grey."

She blushes instantly and lightly punches my arm.

"Oh shut up. Even if it is true," she giggles.

I watch as the needles poke at her skin, fascinated by his artwork. It's a pretty simple tattoo but it means a lot. Two arrows going in separate directions but are reunited. It resembles our friendship as I will be leaving her tomorrow evening. Plus the tattoos will look sexy as hell wrapped around our forearms.

"Okay let's see how you do with this sort of pain," she stands up and I take her spot.

I examine her tattoo. Her skin is swollen and irritated but the tattoo is flawless.

"It looks awesome. I'm doing mine on the left arm," I tell the artist.

"Got it. Just spin around for me so I can work on that arm," he makes a motion with his finger telling me to turn around.

"And by the way, I already have a tattoo so I'm already accustomed to the pain," I roll my eyes because she already knows that.

I feel the needles poke me and I don't flinch.

"Taylor it's really not that bad," I laugh at her.

"Whatever! It felt like I was being nailed to the cross," she rubs her forearm.

The artist has to pull his machine away from my skin so that he can laugh.

"Well that's a bit dramatic. Hey we need to come up with some movies to watch tonight," I point out that we haven't done that yet.

Movie night has been a tradition for us every Friday for ten years now. We pick out three movies we want to watch and then we sit in my small home theater, eating popcorn and drinking beer. It's funny how both our families consist of lawyers but we do illegal shit all the time. We drink underage, occasionally smoke pot, and we fight to defend the defenseless. Yet we get away with it because we really don't cause any trouble except for in a situation where we would have to get physical.

One the artist finishes my tattoo he rubs tattoo solution over it and wraps it just like Taylor's. Walking to the counter to pay, Taylor pulls out her wallet. I steal her wallet from her and put it in my purse.

"I'm paying for the tattoos," I say and pull out my debit card.

"No, let me pay," she gives me her signature sad puppy dog eyes in an attempt to sway my decision

"As cute as you are, Taylor, you're not getting what you want," I dangle my car keys in front of her so she'll go start the car for us.

I turn back to the lady at the counter. She's a little older, maybe in her late thirties. She looks sad, like she can't keep up with her life. I glance around her desk and see a few picture of her and two little boys, her sons I'm assuming.