Dark Ink Tattoo: Ep 3 Read Online Free

“Also firetrucks are real.”
    Unlike Santa – but like werewolves.
    The doorbell rang and Rabbit sprinted for it – but I got there just in time, catching his shoulders and spinning him around to face me. “What’ve I told you about opening the door?”
    “Don’t do it, ever.”
    “Ever ever,” I said, staring straight into his eyes.
    “Mom, you’re hurting me,” he said, trying to shrug away.
    “Ever,” I repeated, pushing him back. I leaned up to the peephole – and saw Mark. I reached for the door and pulled it slightly open. “I -- thought you were going to call.”
    “I decided to visit instead,” he said, holding up a bottle of wine, and a bouquet of flowers. “Can I come in?”
    And I realized he was asking to come inside. He’d always gathered me up from here before, respecting the boundary I’d kept between my dating life and my home, we’d always stayed out, or over at his condo. But I’d never spent a full night away from home – and I’d never let him in.
    Until now. I stepped back, making room, giving him a tentative smile. “Sure. Do you like spaghetti?”
    He gave me a look, one eyebrow rising. “I’m Italian.”
    I laughed. “Perfect.”
    I heard the whine of the scooter engine as my mother pulled in. “Is this Mark?” she asked pointedly, looking between the two of us.
    “Yes, Ma’am.” Mark strode over and held his hand out. She shook it warmly.
    “Nice to finally meet you! Please, take off your coat, make yourself at home.” He grinned and slipped his jacket off, putting it on the back of a nearby chair. I noticed he was wearing a different suit than he’d worn this morning. At least I wasn’t the only one a little put out by our rendezvous. 
    “Mom?” Rabbit asked from the other room, peeking around the wall. Brave when the door was closed, not so brave with it open.
    “Rabbit, this is Mark. Mark, this is Rabbit.”
    True to his namesake, Rabbit came out warily, his blonde hair tousled every which way.
    “Nice to meet you, Rabbit,” Mark said, with his sonorous voice, and held out his hand.
    Rabbit sized him up and then took it, shaking it like he must’ve seen on TV.
    “That’s a good shake there.”
    “Thanks. Who are you?”
    I bit my lips to keep from laughing, as Mark looked over at me. “I’m, uh, one of your mother’s friends.”
    “Oh – okay,” he said, then dodged around Mark to sit back at the table and keep coloring.
    * * *
    My mother was not so easily dissuaded. She wanted to know everything about Mark, where he’d grown up, what he did, if he liked it, the last president he’d voted for – by the time dinner was ready, the only thing she didn’t know was his astrological sign.
    “Really, Mom,” I said, trying to cut her off.
    “I just need to know what his thoughts are on global warming –“
    “Mother!”
    “We live in the desert, honey – it’s not going to get better here unless the world does –“
    Mark chuckled and gave me an amused look. “It’s okay. I’m a lawyer, remember? I’m good at asking – and answering – questions.”
    “The only questions I want answered now is, ‘Does this taste good’, with a side of ‘How was school today?’” I walked over to the table, pot in hand.
    “School was fine,” Rabbit said.
    “Just fine?”
    “Molly tried to beat me up again.”
    “A girl?” Mark asked.
    Rabbit hunched over a little, his body expressing his dismay. “She’s really mean. And twice as big as I am.”
    “She was held back,” I explained and squeezed Rabbit’s hand. “I’ll talk to the teacher tomorrow.”
    “That doesn’t do anything,” Rabbit protested.
    “I used to get beat up at school a lot,” Mark volunteered.
    Rabbit looked up at him, this man who made our dining room look small. “Really?”
    “Yeah.”
    “How’d you stop it?” Rabbit asked.
    “Well eventually I grew too big. But I spent all of middle school hiding in the library for lunch – until I made enough friends