Klaus Hargreeves Tattoos Novels & Stories

I bow my head, pretend to focus on the screen. "You were staring," he says in a low, amused voice. He leans against my desk, arms crossed, towering over me. "My tattoos interest you?" I shake my head, too quickly. "No, I… it's nothing." He chuckles softly. "Liar." He pulls up the left sleeve of his t‑shirt, revealing more of the raven and other symbols: a miniature cathedral, eight‑pointed stars, Cyrillic numbers. "Every design has a story. The raven… it's for memory. For those we've lost, but never forget. The stars are rank. The cathedral… the faith you keep even when everything else goes to hell."

He asked as he breathed out his smoke. I take off my jacket and my shirt to show him my tattoo of the Criemsons. The tattoo shows a blood sword that encircles with vipers and roses that symbolizes our gang or mafia name. I swiveled to indicate my identity while his ladies gape at me like the last cupcake in a bakery they wanted to devour. "Holy mother of great mercy" He grinned. "Now can we converse interaction?" I asked before I put my clothes in and I know his kittens will groan for consuming clothes.

Hollis asked, making my stomach drop at being caught looking. "What is that tattoo?" I asked, trying to sound casual and unimpressed. "Is it new?" Hollis's other arm lifted, rubbing over the tattoo. He nodded. "It's new. It's a cross with roots and branches." "A cross with roots and branches," I repeated. "I thought Boss's have absolutely nothing to do with certain signs like the cross. I mean....." "You'd be surprised, Ugo. I'm an ardent Christian, the type that is actively active in my church. Projects, support, charity, you name it."

He say but I'm to focused on his tattooed body to care about anything he says right now. My fingers trace the inked skin. He has a huge tattoo of Kali, the goddess of destruction, on his front. Different designs litter his skin but my favourite has to be the flower on his neck. It is the only tattoo that has colour out of them all on his front. He has his nipples pierced and I never thought I would say this but it looks really sexy.

What does he mean that’s for later? Cutting off the straps of my thong as well, he takes a step backward and removes his bowtie, which was already loose and hanging around his neck. As he gets to work unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes do not leave mine and even as they’re filled to the brim with anger, I can see the hunger. I was right about his body being covered in tattoos, but in this case, only his back and sides, save for one tattoo over his left pectoral, right over his heart. It is a black heart with a dagger with the words SANGUE PER SANGUE.

Elora's POV I scanned the crowd of necks heading towards the vortex, looking for a neck with a snake tattoo, and I failed. I was as if the person I was looking for didn’t exist. I saw some with a couple of tattoos. I saw a star first, then a text “HAT’, then an “S” I would have assumed the ‘S’ was it, but it was on the neck of a man. Klaus said I should look out for a woman. What if his sources were wrong? What if he made a mistake?

“First, I need you to sign these. Please read through them carefully and let me know if anything needs to be changed or added.” As she reached across the table, I noticed a small tattoo on her wrist, partially hidden by her leather watch strap. A flaming skill above two crossed pistols - the Warriors logo. As I sat forward to begin reading the documents, I couldn’t help but wonder how deep Kat’s connection to the club actually ran. ——————————— Talon I walked into the garage, nodding at a few of the guys working on bikes. The familiar sounds and smells of grease and metal helped ground me as my mind continued to reel with thoughts of Laura.

“Come back soon, okay?” “Okay,” she hung up then. “I’m going to town. Am I needed for anything?” I asked Mr Stark when he walked in. My eyes were glued to the tattoos littered all over his upper body. His left sleeve looked like a forest scenery of some sort. Right at the back, he had numbers, a date, with a tiny baby handprint. I wondered what they meant. “You can go,” he said his back to me. ***** | Emmanuel Stark |

''Take off your shoes,'' I blurted. He didn’t move. I knelt down and tugged at them myself. Left shoe. Right shoe. Socks. He grunted something about pressure and bent down to pull off his coat. Then his shirt. And my brain flatlined. Tattoos covered his torso, ink winding through muscle and scar tissue in ways that were impossible not to stare at. A hawk spread its wings across his ribs, bold and dark. A skull, a rose, some Latin phrases. And beneath it all, scars. Faded lines that told stories I couldn’t begin to imagine.

His keen eyes scrutinized the body, tracing the intricate patterns of tattoos etched into the attacker's skin. "This is no ordinary assailant," Elder Broja began, his voice low and gravely. "These tattoos, they speak of allegiance to a specific pack. Each mark represents a vow, a bond, a commitment to their cause." I exchanged a troubled glance with Lyra, sensing the gravity of the situation deepen with each passing moment. "What do these tattoos signify?" I inquired, my voice tinged with apprehension. Elder Broja's gaze bore into mine, his expression grim. "These symbols are ancient, passed down through generations. They denote allegiance to the Eclipse Pack, a ruthless faction known for th