John Wick Latin Tattoo Novels & Stories

The man whimpered, blood running from his nose “I was just paid to drop it—” I straightened and looked at Mateo. “Show me.” Mateo nodded, then walked behind the man and yanked up his shirt. Scrawled between his shoulder blades was a black ink tattoo, crudely done but clear as day. “J.S.” Judas Stone. My fingers twitched at my sides. “You expect me to believe you have never met him, but you branded yourself with his initials?” “I didn’t know—” I clenched my fist and drove it into his gut.

“Lorenzo, the bar….The weight's going to fall.” Lorenzo didn't move an inch, all he said was: “You wanted to lift weights and that's what you're going to do.” “Please,” I struggled. If I stayed here much longer, the weight would come falling and it'd land on my chest, then I'd be dead and a dead person can't get vengeance. “Loren—” His hands came under the bar and his forearms bracketed my entire field of vision, and the Latin text on the tattoo was right at eye level now, close enough to read.

“Your tattoos are beautiful.” I look at the tattoo of a skull surrounded by black flames. My whole right arm is decorated with tattoos from shoulder to wrist. My skin prickles with every caress of her fingers, but I don’t stop her from touching me. The tattoo sleeve has several tribal symbols, and there are a seal trident and a frogman tattoo on my shoulder. Each tattoo represents something in my life. The skull represents my status as an Assassin, and the cross is a play on my name. Her finger moves down the line of my intricate cross, then to the inside of my rib cage, where I have an inscription. Qui velit, ut vivat in aeternum.

“Revenge? That would be tempting Erik, but I prefer not. However, I do would like to forgive you if you answer my question earlier.” He raised a brow for a moment and then something dawned on him. “You sly vixen,” his stated playfully, “You want me to talk about my tattoo?” I nodded while keeping my mouth zipped, trying to give him puppy-dog eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional but he heaved a deep, really deep breath before started answering me. “This tattoo shows my rank in my father’s Bratva. It shows that I am family and basically his eventual successor if I hadn’t escaped.”

His finger strokes down my neck and over the tattoo. “So, why this?” Jax’s words are whispered into my ear. “That night of the hunt, I mentioned that it was a pity it wouldn’t scar. I liked the idea of having something permanent on me to show I belonged to you. Then I remembered the bite and thought that would be perfect.” It was perfect at that moment. “And the symbol?” I smile. “If you look close enough, it’s the letters D, B, J, and C combined.” I feel him shift, and he exhales heavily.