《The Irish Tattooist》CHAPTER 2
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Hugh's house was large, homely and completely clean. Which was surprising considering he had huge, less than clean men in his employ. Hugh had already grabbed my bags and walked to the door.
It was weird, the fact that he was my father. But it felt more right than anything I had ever known in my life. Hugh turned to me, a smile on his older face.
"I am happier than you could ever know right now Corin"
The tears came way too easily. He dropped the bags gently, holding his arms out for me to nestle within. A bear, he reminded me of a bear. Big, hairy but ultimately strong and loving , I thanked God for blessing me with this man.
I chuckled slightly, stepping back. "The waterworks need to stop old man, or you'll have a river in your house"
He laughed and picked up my bags, kicking open a room door. It was a big room, bigger than I'm used to, and had a king bed in the middle. God, this man was my father.
He shared my love for huge, obnoxiously sized beds. Hugh scratched the back of his neck, placing my bags on the bed. "Hope it's alright. Don't really know if-"
I stopped him with a smile. "It's perfect."
Hugh beamed, his eyes crinkling. "I'll be in the lounge. If you want to talk, I'm all for it, but no press"
Hugh looked so nervous, and my heart clenched. He would soon find out how much I could talk.
I got changed out of my jeans and pulled on my sweat shorts and hoodie, covering the lengths of tattoos on my arms, chest and back. Hugh's house was uncharacteristically warm, a lovely contrast to the frost forming on the sidewalks. Walking back into the lounge, I stopped when I saw possibly one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen in my life, smoking at the kitchen table.
Dirty blonde locks curled on his head, framing a face cut like marble. Taller, way taller than my father even sitting down, he dwarfed the table, long legs clothed in dark jeans sprawled out. He brought the cigarette to his full lips again, muscles flexing in his black long sleeve shirt.
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This man was an Adonis. And damn if he didn't make me heated. Hugh flicked his eyes up, a smile creasing his face yet again. "Corin, come sit down" The man flicked his gaze up, then stilled, whole body tensing as he stared at me.
I nodded, tearing my eyes from the Apollo in the room. Sitting down next to Hugh, I nodded to the man, his honey eyes burning into my skin. "This is Ripper. My left hand for the club, he just got back from a trip"
Ripper?
I held out my hand, watching him keenly as he placed the cigarette in his lips. "This is Corin, my daughter" Hugh introduced for us, leaning back to see the sizing up of each other. His golden eyes paused at each of my piercings; 2 lip rings, a septum ring and 6 earrings on each side, seeming to judge them all. I didn't know what he thought.
"Pleasure" Ripper drawled, a long drawn out sound that sent tingles through my body. He shook my hand- a rough calloused hand with a firm grip and I let go quickly, not liking the heat that scorched from where he touched. Ripper kept his eyes on me, no doubt assessing me to see if I was worthy enough to be his president's daughter.
I did the same right back.
The kettle boiled, shrill whistle shocking me out of the contest and I stood to go and make coffee. "Sugar and creamer ok?" I said, aware of the two sets of eyes on me. "Perfect, sweetheart" Hugh murmured, turning his attention back to Ripper.
"Did they put up much of a fight?"
Ripper let his eyes stray from me, either thinking I wouldn't tell or just didn't care enough to listen in. "Some of the boys did. Sorted that out pretty quickly." He took another long drag of his cigarette, exhaling smoke through his crooked nose. "Max gave us what was owed and more. Didn't want me comin' back"
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I walked back to the table and placed their coffees in front of them, relaxing into the chair I was sitting in. Hugh nodded, satisfied with Ripper's answer. "So, do you have a nickname pops?" I asked, trying out a new nickname. Pops seemed weird though, so I wasn't going to say that again. Hugh grumbled a bit before nodding, pinching his nose with one large, scarred hand.
"Grizzly"
I grinned, smiley piercing showing, and nodded. "Yeah, thought so. Have that sort of presence ya know?"
Ripper cleared his throat, interrupting our bonding. "I'ma go Pres. I'll be back tomorrow morning" He nodded at me, honey eyes running over the length of me again before he walked outside, ass beautiful in his snug jeans.
I was already way too invested in him.
Hugh's eyes turned serious, and I knew the deep talk would be happening now. He shook off his leather jacket, resting both his elbows on the table.
"I thought you were dead. When your mother told me she was pregnant, I was ready to be a father. But then she left, leaving me wondering whether or not you were in this world or not. I usually thought about what you looked like too, if you had my eyes" His voice had turned melancholic, and a whole lot of longing lingered in the air. Hugh looked at me intently, a small smile on his face. "You look perfect, better than anything I could have dreamed of. Your mother, Jezebel, was the beauty of the town. Exotic, brash and unashamedly bold, every man wanted her- and she chose me"
This was very different from the mother I knew about-the one who had died from a heroin overdose in a brothel.
Hugh continued, fingers entwining and resting on his chin. "When I went to look for her, she sent me a note. Told me she had aborted you. Killed my baby girl. And I knew you were a girl, because God knew I wanted a girl so badly.
I didn't realize she had lied, should have known Jez would have- but I was so in love with her." His voice broke at the end, a quiet reminder of the heartache he had been through. And I knew, from the way he talked about my mother, he still loved her. Loved her with every part of his soul- her many faults and all.
Hugh pursed his lips, a new sort of anger coming over his face. "I should have looked. Then I wouldn't have missed so much of your life. I should have-"
I stood up, effectively quieting his self loathing. "You didn't know. And it isn't your fault that I was adopted out, or that my mother lied to you. You didn't know.And in other cases, sure that might be his fault, but I can already tell from the small time I have known you you wouldn't willingly leave me. You were ready for me, you wanted me. And knowing that you wanted me to be your daughter means more than you will ever know."
He was beating himself up for something that wasn't any bit his fault. I drew him into my arms, trying to wrap my warmth around his big body.
"Dad" I tried out the word again, and smiled at how right it felt. "Dad, you are by far the best man I could have imagined to be my father."
Even though it had only been a few hours, he felt more like family than any other person I had ever met.
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