Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC #5)(92)

He kissed my fingertips and I shivered with the contact. “I’m not askin’ in the way you’re thinkin’. I’ve got the spare bedroom cleared of shit and ready for you, if you want it.”

I glanced at him and then down to Lex, who was concentrating on my ink. I was getting kind of addicted to it. Since that first prick of pain with Lily and Rosie, all I’d wanted was more. More of the pain to distract me from everything else, more of the ink to cover the scars that wouldn’t heal. More control over my body, even if it was just what was happening on the outside.

So I was getting a full sleeve done. I had known immediately what I wanted—a fairy tale, right there on my arm. Because I couldn’t have one, but I could make one. Though this was a little different. I had the trademark castle on my shoulder, which had been done last week. It was beautiful, intricate, a peaceful array of pastels and rainbows. Half of it was, at least. The other half was black shadows, a stormy sky, gargoyles coming to life from the turrets.

A confluence of what I wished for and what I got.

A reminder that I could have both and neither. That I was pulling myself off that dark place in pursuit of the sunshine and rainbows. But I wouldn’t exactly get that. I’d have somewhere in between.

And as soon as Gabriel had heard that’s what I was doing, he’d insisted to come ‘to hold my hand.’

“I don’t need anyone to hold my hand,” I’d informed him, frowning.

He’d grinned. “But I need someone to hold my hand.”

So he came, and right then, he was holding my hand.

And I’d never admit it out loud, but I needed it.

“You’re really going to have this conversation in front of Lex?” I nodded to the heavyset, tattooed man bent over my arm. “You’ll make him uncomfortable.

He didn’t look up. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

I scowled at his tattooed head. “Dude, I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” he replied over the buzzing of his gun.

“Not anymore,” I muttered.

He chuckled and continued his work silently.

Gabriel grinned at me. I was getting used to that too. The way his grin had changed, warped from the easy one I’d been used to, to something different. Something darker.

It’s where we lived now, the darkness. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but I was getting used to the shadows.

“So, Lex approves. What more do you need?”

“It’s not what I need,” I argued. “It’s what you need, which is a reality check. We are not even properly together and you want to move in together? Like that’s not a recipe for disaster.”

Gabriel’s eyes darkened. “We’re f*ckin’ together,” he growled. He exerted gentle pressure on my hand. “I want you at my place, where I can see you all the time. Know you’re safe,” he declared.

I didn’t lower my eyes, even though his stare was making me uncomfortable, confronting me with reality. Yeah, we were together, and that thought filled me with equal parts joy and dread. I swallowed both with effort. “Well, I want a lifetime supply of Chunky Monkey and a Golden Globe. Life doesn’t always give us what we want,” I stated matter-of-factly.

When in doubt, use sarcasm.

Gabriel clenched his jaw and glanced to my arm, not saying anything.

Score, I’d won. Why didn’t victory taste sweet?

Because you wanted him to fight harder. Even though you know how f*cked-up it is, how much you’d tarnish him even more by moving in, you know it’s a fantasy, but you want it.

“Done,” Lex grunted, moving my attention outwards.

He wiped the ink and blood off my arm to reveal my latest piece. I stared at it, as did Gabriel.

“Wow,” I muttered.

It looked awesome. On the inside of my arm, above my very first tattoo, was an intricate and beautiful picture of a girl, a princess. Everything innocent and beautiful about her face, right down to the crown—on one half, at least. On the other side of her head, the crown wasn’t shiny and glistening; it was tarnished and cracked, dark and sharp. Her face was no longer innocent but half a skeleton, decaying but still somehow beautiful.

Right above my favorite vein was me. I wasn’t the skeleton, and I sure as shit wasn’t the princess. I was both. A reminder of what I’d turned into from the moment I injected it.

“Fuck,” Gabriel exclaimed, rubbing his mouth roughly. He glanced to Lex, who was rustling and putting his shit away. “You’re a genius, bro. Didn’t think you could make that skin any more beautiful, but you did.”

Lex nodded. “It’s my job.”

Gabriel grinned. “Well, as soon as I find a blank space on this beautiful canvas”—he gestured down to his body—“I want that.” He nodded to my arm.

I sucked in a breath. “You want this?” I held up my red and aching arm.

He nodded. “Fuck yeah, I do.”

I glared at this. “But this is my tattoo. This is me. Why the f*ck do you think I’m going to let you get it?” I hissed, anger bubbling from my words.

“I’m just gonna wait outside,” Lex declared.

Gabriel’s eyes didn’t move from mine. “Yeah, good call, bro. Assume brace positions.”

I scowled at him even deeper, pushing up and wrenching from his grip. “I can’t believe you want to take my tattoo from me,” I seethed, pacing the room.