Crashed (Driven, #3)(115)

I am dying with laughter, so desperately needing this humor after the heaviness of our night.

“Oops, there’s a boot up your ass, is more like it.” Colton starts laughing but stops the minute Sledge angles the needle near his side. I’ve never seen anyone get a tattoo before and I’m quite curious. I stand and walk over to an empty chair next to Colton so I can watch.

I don’t even look at first—can’t as I see Colton’s body tense and his breath hiss out as the needle touches him for the first time.

“God nothing changes,” Sledge says, exasperation in his voice. “Once a puss, always a puss.” The buzzing stops and he lifts his head to look up at Colton. “Seriously, dude? If I’ve gotta worry about you shivering like a f*cking chihuahua, then we’re gonna have some serious f*cking issues and I’m not gonna claim this job as mine.”

Colton just lifts a hand and flashes Sledge his middle finger before flicking his eyes over to me and then closing them as the needle starts again. This time the buzz remains steady, and after Colton relaxes some, I move around to the other side of Sledge to test if I can handle watching him draw Colton’s blood. And when I get the courage to finally look down, I’m confused.

Sledge’s needle is working over the symbol for vengeance. He’s cut dark red lines that make me cringe at the thought of what that must feel like against Colton’s rib cage. I look up to find Colton’s eyes locked on mine as I try to figure out what’s going on.

“Sledge figured out how to overlay the new knot on top of vengeance.”

“Vengeance is gone,” I whisper, and for some reason this concept is so moving to me that I just stand there, lips parted, head shaking, and eyes watching Sledge reconfigure a concept that would only destroy Colton further and give him one filled with hope instead.

“Time to lay the demons to rest.”

I swallow over the lump in my throat at Colton’s words and reach out to hold his hand as we watch the slow transformation of one of his inked scars. One that is now a symbol of hope and healing.

After some time and more ribbing between the two of them—along with me falling further in love with Sledge—Colton’s tattoo has been transformed.

“I want to see it before you bandage it up,” Colton says as Sledge slathers it with petroleum jelly. “Go pet your pussies and make sure you didn’t sneak any hearts or rainbows in there somewhere since you kept blocking my view, you f*cker.” Colton stands from the chair and I notice the time it takes to steady himself from the after effects of his accident is a lot shorter now. He heads off to the back room where the mirror is.

And I don’t know what it is—maybe the events of the night or maybe the hope weaving its way into our lives—but my decision’s made before Colton even clears the door to the back. I have to act now before I lose the courage, before my rational head catches up with my irrational heart.

Before I chicken out.

“Hey, Sledge,” I say as I sit down in the chair Colton’s vacated, pulling the elastic band of my exercise pants down over my hip bone, and point there. “I think it’s the perfect time to get my first tattoo. I want the same thing only a lot smaller.”

He looks over at me, eyes dancing and startled. “Darlin’, when I said f*cking, I didn’t think you’d offer, much less bring your pants down for it with Wood in the back f*cking room.” He winks at me and smiles before staring into my eyes. “You trying to get me killed?”

I laugh. “He’ll go easy. I think he has a soft spot for you, Sledge.”

“Yeah soft spot in his head more like it.” He just licks his lips and looks down at my hip before back up to my eyes, concern and uncertainty in his. “You sure? It’s kinda permanent,” he questions with an amused raise of an eyebrow. I nod my head before I lose the courage to go through with it—to prove to Colton that I want to be there for him every step of the way on this journey.

Sledge laughs and rubs his hands together. “I always love being the first to touch virgin skin. Makes my f*cking balls tighten up and shit …” He blows out a breath. “Fucking shit, I’m sorry. Again.” He shakes his head as he starts to trace the image on my hipbone after looking up at me to make sure it’s where I want it.

“You positive?” he asks again, and I nod because I’m so frickin’ nervous I can barely force a swallow down my throat.

I’m not a tattoo type of girl, I tell myself, so why am I doing this? And then I realize I’m not a bad boy kind of girl either. Look how wrong I was with that assumption.

I jolt when the needle buzzes on, my breath hitching and body vibrating with anxious anticipation. I bite my bottom lip and fist my hands as the first sting hits me. Holy shit! It hurts so much more than I expected. Don’t wimp out, don’t wimp out, I repeat over and over in my head to try and drown out the needle that’s stinging my hip like a bitch. And my chant doesn’t ease the pain so I close my eyes and exhale a breath, nodding at Sledge to continue because I’m okay when he stops and looks up to check on me.

I don’t hear him or see him, but I know the minute that Colton re-enters the room because I can feel him. His energy, our connection, his pull on me has me opening my eyes and lock on his instantly.

The look on his face is priceless—shock, pride, disbelief—as he steps closer to see around Sledge’s hands. I know when he sees it because I hear him suck in a startled gasp before his eyes flash up to mine.