The Irish Tattooist

Chapter 31

Thank ya'll for reading. 

I'm not good at male point of views, so I'll probs work on that in the future. 

What do ya'll think of 13 Reasons Why? (I didn't like it lmao, but wby?)

Plus, most tv shows get waaaayyyy over hyped these days, so I usually don't even bother to watch them. 

But, in order to wreck some tumblr feminists at my school who have opinions on everything, I watched all of the shows and gave them point by point arguments on why they were wrong. 

Felt good. (Ya girl is the captain of the speech and debating club ;) )

AND FOR THOSE OF YOU THAT KEEP TELLING ME RUTHERGLEN IS NOT IN IRELAND-

I. FUCKING. KNOW. 

Don't be that person. Nobody likes that person. 

Btw, I'm thinking of starting a new teenage girl story. Like a normal one- not one like SAHS or Spitfire. She's just a pretty chick in school who gets involved with....idk yet. Eh. 

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The nightly beatings became a daily occurrence, one that I never tired of. In the beginning of my stay in Rutherglen I had been so against club discipline...but now, I was more than for it. 

Discipline was to be had, and they deserved every fucking ounce of pain they received. 

But it was strange watching Ripper turn into what the clubs knew him to be, change from the gentle man who was by my side constantly to the bloodthirsty, rage filled beast whose fists rained down on the men and drowned them whole. 

But every night we went home together, he was always right by my side, with hands so kind that I struggled not to cry. And crying wasn't my thing- no matter how much I had cried these past few months. 

We went back home and I made breakfast for us, since it was the early hours of the morning. A giant helping of eggs, bacon and breakfast muffins that had me salivating as I cooked. Ripper was sitting in the kitchen too, watching me cook. 

"What are your adoptive parents like?" The question was unbidden and I tilted my head to the side as I served his food. 

"Eh. They're not parents in any sense really, just two people who thought they had a hole a child could fix." I shrugged, taking a bite of bacon. Ah, so salty. " There was nothing to fill. They had no room for a child in their relationship so I was shipped abroad and spent the rest of that time travelling while they funded me" 

It wasn't the best life, but it was a rich one. I met a lot of people, some who were good, some who were bad, but if I didn't travel as much I wouldn't have been as curious to who my dad was. 

And never would have met Ripper. 

I munched on the rest of my bacon, sitting down beside him. "The last time they called me was when I was in Brazil actually. Huh. That was a while ago" 

Ripper raised a brow. "How long ago?" 

"Around two, three years." 

I remembered now, they had just called to ask if I wanted to come to a business ball with them- since it was an expected family event. I had declined of course, because Bianca and I were going to Carnival. 

They hadn't liked that. 

Ripper's arm came around me, sliding me back onto his lap. The never ending contact with him was the only touch I could handle- especially at such an intensity. He nuzzled his nose into my neck, inhaling deeply as I leaned back into him.