Morgan Brennan Tattoo Novels & Stories

“What is it?” I asked, a little nervous. “Darin used to mark his… girls. They will have a rose tattoo on their shoulder blade if they were part of what it was he was doing.” Jacob looked down at his feet and shifted uncomfortably. I’ve seen a few of those tattoos around but didn’t think much of it. “Thank you for telling me.” I said finally. Sherry nodded and her and Jacob walked out of our office. “What happens now?” Penny asked.

Then he gestured his hand towards our back. "I'm Thunder." Then she leaned on the wall. "I'm Boston." I took a glance at the guy who talked to Rhyme earlier. A tattooed man. He shifted his position, then he pointed his shoulder. He shoved his black shirt to show me his BRIT tattoo, the fifth that I saw in his skin based on my quick count as I scanned his arms. I was stunned after realizing that Rhyme also had that on his wrist. But the guy named Boston had it in his right arm and it was bigger. I nodded to myself.

The remnants of pain were still trying to occupy a place on the sensitive reactions in the nerves in her body, like they were causing an electric shock. Moreau's arm moved tentatively to greet the mirror that Abihirt brought closer. She quickly adjusted her sitting position. She was transfixed by the reflection of the nipple clamps on her breasts. There was no clue what Abihirt would do in the future, but Moreau tried not to think too far ahead this time. Immediately drew attention to the new tattoo—a small one under the chest. Beautiful. The sketch of a rose seen in the studio earlier, with budding petals and covered by a stem that was only half, as the rest was on Abihirt's new tattoo. Rig

My jersey was sticking to my skin and my legs aches, but Coach Leo clearly wasn't finished. His gaze landed on me.“Brennan.” I looked up. “How's training going?” He asked I dragged a towel across my face before answering. “We haven't had a full team session in a while, Coach.” His eyebrows pulled together. “And why is that?” Because lately my attention span has been destroyed by a stubborn girl with amber eyes and a habit of making me forget how to think. Instead, I said, “Everybody's been busy.” He frowned “Hockey included?”

"Not everyone looking for me is as careless as Julian Vane. There are people out there who don't understand the concept of 'surrender.'" He approached me, and even though he walked with a slight limp, his presence was still overwhelming. He stopped in front of the stove, and the light from the fire illuminated the tattoos on his back once more. I was mesmerized by one in particular on his left shoulder blade: an ancient shield intertwined with thorns and an iron crown. It didn't look like the design of a common tattoo parlor; it had the symmetry of an official seal, of a coat of arms that demanded respect.

His eyes were silver — not gray, not blue, but liquid silver, reflecting the shop’s light. “Sorry, we’re closed,” she said automatically, though her voice lacked conviction. He studied her, head tilted slightly, as if he’d been expecting her refusal. “You’re Ayla Cross.” Her stomach tightened. “Depends who’s asking.” He smiled faintly, though there was no humor in it. “Kian Vale. I need a tattoo.” “Come back tomorrow.” “I can’t.” He took another step forward, and the smell of him — rain, smoke, and something feral — flooded the room. “It has to be tonight.”

He exclaims which makes me then look down at my forearm to read my own tattoo which spelt 'family'. The tattoo was something that all of our members had to prove that they were in our gang and that we were a family. Jake had it on his bicep, Jason had it on his shoulder blade, Zack had it on his rib and Nick had it on his collar bone. Dominic got it recently on the back of her ear. Somewhere hard to find but still in her style. It suited her, and it wouldn't risk her identity being found out.

“You pigs! How dare you violate my sister’s privacy like this? That was love, real love! You can’t destroy them like this!” Gabby stepped forward, voice flat. “You’re saying that’s Sareena? Then can you explain the missing tattoos on her right side? The one on her left arm? Or the missing piercing? The voice on the recording sounds exactly like yours.” She then turns to her Uncle Luca. “Zio, Sareena has a large tattoo from her ribs to her hip. It is an anagram. If you look at it from the front, it says: Faith, but if you look at it from the back it says: Hope. Then she has a small anagram on her left forearm. It says: Family and Love.”

He seethed angrily and hissed. Raze ignored him and sat down, sighing in frustration. “ I saw a tattoo this time around in one of of their wrists, pyramid shape with three dots at the top.” Brent immediately knew what he was driving at and shook his head. “Don't tell me you're still having nightmares! Because that tattoo isn't real!” “Don't piss me off Brent, I know what I saw and a search must be conducted.” He fired back and Brent placed a mid finger on his forehead.

“Grandmother despises schemers. When she finds out you’re the reason I lost my inheritance, she will make you pay. I promise you that.” “I’m the reason?” I scoffed. “That’s rich, coming from you.” “At least I have true Moretti blood in my veins!” Dante suddenly thrashed, trying to get up. “You’re nothing! You’re just a cheap—” His words were cut short. In his violent struggle, he tore the sleeve of his hospital gown. I saw it then—a black tattoo on his forearm. The design was distinctive: a double-headed eagle with Cyrillic letters beneath it. My heart skipped a beat. That was a Bratva tattoo. The mark of the Russian mob.