Josiah Marquez

**Present day...**


I finally managed to get everything I needed done at my daughter's house. The windows had safety screens installed, the stairs were now safer, and the security camera was in perfect working condition, although I was sure Ana would start spying on me again, which is why I had broken the previous one. She used to point the camera at my gate and then gossip with Marta about everything she saw. Dealing with Helena, my mom’s friend who lived right across the street, was already bad enough!
I felt like a jerk for not having checked the security details of that house earlier. I didn’t know if I would ever be able to forgive my ex for keeping me away from my daughter. I hated Ana for that, but there was a part of me that always remembered she was the one who gave me that little blond-haired thing, without any planning, without consulting me, without talking to me about the existence of my small and beautiful baby. None of that mattered; whether she consulted me or got pregnant without asking me... In the end, being a father, discovering that child, only made me happy. I was in the midst of a huge chaos, with the revelation of that betrayal, my insubordination leading to my departure from the army, all at once... But when I saw her at the window, swollen, with that tiny baby in her arms, my anger was overshadowed and I was content. Even with everything that had happened, with everything that had kept me away from seeing that scene, from seeing my baby for the first time. It was from a distance, I didn’t hold her, I didn’t smell her, but it was so important... If I hadn’t been told I was Julia’s father, if I hadn’t seen that scene, I think I would have gotten lost in the anger I was feeling.
Whenever I wanted to scare the hell out of my ex, to make her furious, jealous, and hate me, that annoying voice in my head would whisper that the same woman I wanted to destroy also had a bond with me that would last until the end of our lives. She was the mother of my daughter, and that would never change.
To make things worse, I couldn’t resist Ana. She seduced me just with her gaze. With the slightest curve of a smile on that round and perfect face, my cock throbbed and I burned with the desire to bury myself completely inside her, because I hated seeing her smile, I hated and loved it. What a mess! It was a mess to feel hatred and so many other things for the same woman.
She thought she was fooling me with that story of going out all dressed up, but one of my friends, Bill, didn’t mind finding out for me that she just went to the movies. I let Ana think she had fooled me, and that excited me. It was a sign that she wanted to provoke me, meaning I could continue my game. She wanted to play too!
“Fucked” was the best description for Saturday night. Or rather, no fucking. Ana really messed with me and made me have to jerk off because she ran away and didn’t want to give it to me. How did I fall for that game? She was already there, ready, drenched beneath me, and I simply believed she would want to suck me off right at the “H” moment.
Monday was going to be good because I had two small tattoos early in the morning, and then I would attend to a woman who scheduled a huge phoenix on her back, which would take up my entire day. I’d have to rush to pick up my “Little Thing” from daycare, as I arranged with that wretched mother in a phone call the night before.
It was conflicting to love my daughter so much, to feel such desire for her mother while also being overwhelmed with hurt, anger, and remorse. Hating Ana was like betraying my Little Thing, and that feeling was what was killing me the most.
My mind was sometimes a mess. I wanted Ana to suffer, but I didn’t want to admit that I missed her, that I smelled her when I held our daughter, that I saw the dimples in Julia’s smile and thought of her.
I wandered around the studio, gathering materials and preparing for the day’s work, trying to push Ana out of my thoughts. I was in my room, and my studio was divided into five parts, with two large rooms for tattooing, each with an integrated bathroom, long black walls, red LED lights overhead, and dark laminate flooring. I started cleaning the black leather couch where I let the magic happen, telling stories with colors on other people’s skins. The second room, identical to mine, belonged to Bill, the big guy who was taller and more tattooed than me. He was a partner I met in the army. It was amazing to discover that he also drew and could teach me how to tattoo. He was my mentor and the mastermind behind Ravina. I loved teasing that man, who had a bald head covered in tattoos and a dense brown beard. He was a very closed-off person, wandering the world with a bored frown, but he had a good heart.
The small room, located at one of the red doors at the end of the corridor, belonged to Harry. The place was for piercings. Harry was a guy I found eccentric the first time I saw him, with thousands of piercings on his face, revealing the ones he had removed due to the army’s dress code. He was a lot of fun and, like me, felt out of place in the army. Harry used to say he made a wrong choice by taking the test and always wished he had the courage to throw it all away. My friend liked to say I gave him the push he needed to finally have the courage to do something he enjoyed.
There was also a reception area at the entrance, where Isabela usually attended to the clients, always grumpy behind that black glossy desk. It was funny to see the redhead forcing a smile when greeting the arriving clients or trying to feign friendliness on the phone while answering questions and scheduling appointments.
I heard the intercom buzz and walked out of the room, taking a casual stroll. The room had a black wall on the right with psychedelic paintings in red frames from floor to ceiling, with varying sizes and widths. On the left, a gray brick wall and a large glass window with a perfect view of the side of Ana’s house. I had installed a dark Roman shade, which I would only close if something more “private” was going to happen, although I wouldn’t deny it would be delightful to see my ex getting jealous again from seeing me with another woman.