31. Tattoo

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A/N: This chapter will be confusing so pay attention to details. But trust me, everything will start to make sense.

Legend ^ RIP Kobe and Gianni 💔 And while I'm on the topic, RIP Cameron Boyce, Godfrey Gao, and Juice Wrld smh. Comment other ppl who were gone too soon.



Hope's POV

When I reach the hospital, I run to the reception desk.

"Hi, can you tell me where Damien McIntire is?"

She doesn't look up from her computer. "Are you a relative?"

"No, I'm his... friend. Please. He needs me," I plead.

"I don't care. Visiting hours are over..." She finally looks up and blinks in surprise. "Hope Madison?"

"Yes." She gives me his room number. 309.

"I was never here, okay?" She slowly nods. "Thank you so much."

I head up the elevator and when I head down the hallway and turn the corner, my face slams into someone's chest.

"I'm so sorry," I say, flustered.

He chuckles. "It's cool." He tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear, the rest of it tied back into a ponytail, and frowns down at me. "You're good?"

"Yeah..." I mutter. But I'm not. I'm staring at his wrist, marked with a lion and fangs longer than the face in ink. "Nice tattoo," I say slowly.

"Thanks."

"What does it mean?"

"Nothing," He says simply.

"Oh," I say in a small, audible noise. "Well, nice seeing you."

He snorts. "Likewise." He squints at me. "Are you Hope Madison?" I nod.

"Hmm," He nods and with that, he makes his way down the hall. I draw a shaky deep breath and walk down the opposite way.

I'm too distracted about the ink on his arm. I realize I'm walking the wrong way as the room numbers go up so I turn back and walk the other direction.

I stop in front of 309 and my heart stops. The same guy I ran into is now in Damien's room. I can't really make out Damien, the guy is towering over him. But I can hear their harsh voices as if they're arguing.

Heart pounding, I quickly head down the elevator and wait in the reception area. My subconscious is screaming at me that this is a terribly bad idea, but I ignore it.

I keep my hoodie low so nobody can see me and fidget nervously while rethinking my decision. I should go see Damien regardless of his friend in that room. Or wait until his friend is out and then go and see him. That tattoo meant nothing. That tattoo meant nothing.

But my feet refuse to respond to my mind.

So I wait. And wait.

Anticipation and anxiety chokes me until the tatooed guy finally steps out the elevator and strolls through the door. It felt too long, but I'm afraid to think about it too much and what they were talking about. I'm afraid to think of how Damien know this guy. I'm afraid to think at all.

My feet reacts quickly and I find myself following the man. I rush to the car as he gets into his. "Follow him," I order Reynolds, closing the door shut.

"What?" He turns to look at me from the driver seat and frowns.

"Please. Just follow him. Trust me on this one." My subconscious warns me again, telling me he's a dangerous man, that this isn't a good idea. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from overthinking.

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