Every Saint Has A Past Tattoo Novels & Stories

She thought it looked good on him somehow. Stella felt a little uneased when thinking about the past but she quickly pushed it away from her mind. She did not know why she felt like that. His image when he was standing in front of her roommate's bedroom. It was kind of unfamiliar and weird feeling. She sighed and pulled her thought back to the present time. The tattoo of the eagle spreading its wings covered his chest. She must admit it suited his appearance, his ego, and his branding as the mafia god. "Is this hummingbird? It looks cute and suits you. "

I really did not want to feel weak ever again. My parents totally thought I was crazy when I decided to get a few tattoos. I had a big one slung over my shoulder that reached down to my bicep—our crew's tribal symbol. I also had another large one on my back and a warrior symbol on my inner bicep, courtesy of Gaspar. But my favorite was a cool tattoo guys get when they find their match. It sat just below my waistband, right in the middle of my stomach. A symbol that looked like this: ∞.

AJ was one of my first partners in crime, back when we were teens. "Uptown. Glad to be back, no lie," I roll my sleeves up to my elbow and unbutton my shirt to mid chest, making sure that all of my ink is on display. In this world, these tattoos are an important part of our identity. Each tat has a meaning. The vines are for my crew, each thorn a successful mission. One little rosebud for Livy, when I took her into my home. A large cross across my chest for my parents, a bleeding heart for my sister Jane.

“Now is the right time, Leslie. You see—-” "What are the both of you talking about?” Saint walked into the room, dressed in a pair of joggers with a body hug T-shirt. My mouth ran dry as my gaze ran over his body. I couldn't figure how someone could be so effortlessly sexy. No wonder so many women wanted him. “We were just….we were talking about Selene.” I cleared my throat. Julian's eyes widened and he shook his head, like he was scared I would talk about the tattoo. “Selene? Is everything okay?" Saint frowned.

Of course, she would try her best to find those people. "The three of them were wearing black robes..." Kristina said after she hesitated for a moment. She thought for a while when she remembered something. "There was a star tattoo on their necks." Santi said with his voice calm. Kristina looked at her husband who was holding their daughter's hand as his eyes were fixated on her. "...yes, there was a star tattoo on their necks." Kristina confirmed. She, too, saw the star tattoo on their necks.

Jack said, letting go of my hand. I watched as they did the whole “bro” thing. I guess that’s universal? As Christian turned my eyes honed in on a massive … tattoo? It was kind of a silvery marking on his back. Like, his entire back. I wanted to touch it and not just because he was hot. It almost looked like paint. “The Goddess is good, what can I say? Christian this is our mate Grace,” Jack said, as I stuck out my hand. Christian looked at it, confused. He even took a step back as if I had cooties. He just said Jack was lucky, but he won’t come near me? My face immediately fell in offense.

"Amber is too kind. My mom said not to hurt the people who did that to you. We only live together. She shared her life experiences, especially when that crazy guy decided to run off with that bitch who ruined my parents' marriage." "In that case, you should take care of your mom." Denis had already turned on the tattoo gun after dipping the needle in the ink. Denis' other hand began to hold Gaby's skin flat and taut for easy execution, and slowly and indeed, the needle started to dig into a few millimeters of Gaby's skin. Think of it like a sting that Gaby eventually got used to. Now Denis' focal point truly begins. Under the lights, he resumes his work for the umpteenth client since Denis f

The tattoo artist asked Julie Williams what design she wanted. Julie turned to me with a faint smile on her face. “What did Annie choose? Maybe I’ll borrow some inspiration from her.” I remained silent. Zach Cross answered for me. “Give her the rose.” The tattoo artist froze for a moment. The tattoo pen in his hand hovered over the stencil. “Mr. Zach, that design was custom-made for Miss Annie. By tradition, the Godmother’s tattoo can only be placed on—”

Is he naturally built like this? Sasha steps backward to give me the full picture. I see stars on his knees that match his shoulders. He twists, showing the rugged expanse of his back. I was right: it's a church inscribed over his shoulder blades and spine. It's lovely, but above it is the terrifying image of a spider. "Ulyana told me about the tattoos in the Bratva," I say. Inching off the desk, I approach him. He remains where he is, watching me over his shoulder. My hand touches one of the stars. "What do these all mean?"

Another tattoo: ‘Darkness is real, and it’s the best place to be’ Why would that be the best place to be? “Why are your tattoos sad?” I question, kneading his precious spinous process. “They’re not all sad. Different seasons of my life…” “Were you sad in the past?” He shrugs, a leisurely smile playing on his lips. Another tattoo beneath his neck: ‘Psalm 139:14’ “You’ve got a Bible scripture,” I note out loud. “See. Not all of them are sad. I’ve got two of those.”