Vinnie Hacker Back Tattoo Novels & Stories

The strong outdoor wind rushed into the car through the window. The smell of blood lingered in the car. Vivienne raised her right hand. She swiped the back of her hand across her cheek, wiping off a warm drop of blood. She turned around. Reached out and grabbed the collar of the hitman who had died by the window. And pushed him outwards. The skin under the dead man's earlobe was exposed. “Look here.” Vivienne's finger pointed at that patch of skin. A coin - sized tattoo was printed on the skin.

Stamp ejaculated as soon as he viewed what Mahiriko just got to drawn on his skin. Mahiriko frown and punched Stamp's hand when he touches his chest. "D*mn you, Stamp. It's not a f*cking pussy, it's a tarantula, you sh*tty sh*t." He corrected and study the tattoo at his reflection at the mirror. Stamp laughed his ass out and shows his Betty Boop tattoo on his back. "You see this, man? This is the real tattoo." He even let out his laugh like a wheezing animal.

Henry looked at me quietly, his voice so low and hoarse it barely sounded human. “Where?” I lifted a finger and shakily pointed a little lower on my back, toward those faintly visible indentations. It was an extremely private and extremely sensitive place. “I… I want to tattoo it on my lower back.” The moment the words left my mouth, I saw Henry’s pitch-black pupils contract sharply, narrowing to needle points. The sudden sense of danger made my skin prickle. … “Whoa… Who’s excited?” “Lower back! So scandalous!”

I say quietly, as I take Saggio’s leg. “One. Two. Three,” I count, then snap his shoulder back into place. I sit back while Hacker shifts, grunting in pain as he does. “I’m with you guys,” he says, looking at us and gingerly holding his arm against his body. “We have to have a mole.” “Who?” Siren asks, having heard us. “The squads are all here. You can’t tell me it was Lace or Nix,” she says. “Not the squads,” Hacker says.

He said. I cleared my throat. I know it will definitely look familiar to him because the tattoo is what Lila's name means. “Well, we found the evidence to clear the rumor; that's what matters now.” I said. He nodded. “Can you please screenshot those places for me?” I told the person with the video. He nodded. “Sure.” He said. “Here, you can type your number here so I can send it to you.” He stretched his phone to me and then continued with the hacking. I collected his and typed my number, then dropped his phone on the table.

"I hacked into somewhere I shouldn't have. I didn't know it was somewhere I shouldn't have." "Why?" She sighed. She didn't want to tattle on Isabel, so she tiptoed around his question. "It was for a client, but I didn't vet them well enough. It was right before you hired me to find your hacker. " Alex leaned back in his chair. "You're in danger." "I guess so, yes." "Who did you hack into?" She braced for his anger. "The Agostino Family. Their import business, not their gaming business."

Hated him. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the sheets slipping away and pooling on the bed, leaving nothing between his bare skin and my eyes. His back muscles rippled as he moved, and there it was—the ink etched across his shoulder blades: "Veni, Vidi, Vici." I came. I saw. I conquered. Running down his spine was a tattoo of a dagger, flanked by two cobras coiled around its blade, each poised to strike the other.

The men leered but said nothing. Vincent tucked himself away, zipping up with deliberate slowness, his cock still semi-hard and glistening. He stood, towering over the desk at six-foot-four, his muscular frame straining against his crisp white shirt. Tattoos peeked from his collar, skulls, roses, and the Russo family crest. "You borrowed from the devil, boy. Now you pay the toll." Vincent's free hand shot out, punching Chris square in the gut. Air whooshed out of him, and he doubled over as much as the ropes allowed, retching. "That's for making me wait."

“I’m here for a tattoo.” He leaned back, arms folding across his broad chest. The motion made the fabric of his shirt strain. “You? A tattoo?” He laughed, low and cruel. “Let me guess. Tiny heart on your wrist? Or maybe a quote about ‘strength’ in some flowery script so everyone knows how deep you are.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the design. “Lower back. Crescent moon with vines. I have the reference.”

His hands held the railing as he leaned on it, putting some of his weight on his hands and looking at the ocean. I was relieved to find him there. Standing behind, I looked at his back and for the first time, I actually looked at the tattoo on his back, near his torso right in the middle, where his spinal cord was. It was an inverted cross with snakes wrapping around it. It was demonic. He was demonic. I mean who gets an inverted cross tattooed on their body? I walk to him and stand a few feet behind. “Why are we still here?” I ask looking at his broad back, scrunching my eyes due to the bright sun.