“So, you guys have no idea what you’re getting? Or do you each know what you’re getting, but you’re just keeping it a surprise from each other?” Holly waits on a plush leather bench, furiously texting Tyler, I assume. She only texts her boyfriend that much, that fast, probably giving him a blow-by-blow of what we’re doing.
“I know what they’re getting.” Jax looks up from his tablet and gives Phantom a grin.
Phantom puts a finger over his mouth.
Daisy crosses her arms over her chest. “No fair. How do you know when the rest of us don’t?”
Jax shrugs a shoulder, and I stroke his hair. “Jax knows because he drew mine,” I say.
Jax opens his mouth to say something, but Phantom shushes him again.
“Poppy? You can come on back.” A girl with jet-black hair and teal-blue bangs—really well-colored, bythe way—calls me back to her station. The tattoo shop has six chairs, each partitioned for privacy. Mine should only take about fifteen minutes, so I’m taking the kids for ice cream while Phantom gets his.
We decided to get tattoos to celebrate new beginnings. Shayla is back from rehab and will be taking the girls for scheduled visits, starting with spring break. The salon is doing great, and I have a fantastic tenant in my house. So fantastic, in fact, that she keeps telling her friends to come have their hair done by me. I must have six new clients on top of a great renter.
Phantom is celebrating because he did a really, really good thing. I know he’s scared about it. Not that he’s said, but because of what he doesn’t say. I’m getting used to his silences, his grunts, and what he does decide to share. He decided after Dylan withdrew his plea deal, and the prosecutor dropped the charges, to send Dylan to rehab. Not the same one Shayla went to, but he sent Savage and Viper with Dylan on a plane to a reputable place in Michigan. The guys took Dylan, paid for everything, and told him he’d be welcome back in the club only after he finished rehab.
I know there’s more to the story. Phantom likes to think I don’t know that the guys think Dylan made a deal to be an informant or he’s going to come back with a grudge. But I also believe that Phantom had a tough call to make. He stood true to his values, so despite the many answers I don’t have about his business and what’s going on with the club, I trust Phantom more now than ever.
So, we’re getting celebratory tattoos. I decided toadd to the faded, messed-up heart that I got for Michael. Since Phantom loves tattoos, I designed something and asked Jax to draw it out. I have no idea what Phantom’s getting, but he promised I’d get a kick out of the surprise.
Almost a half hour later, I have a brand-new tattoo on my ring finger. On the upper knuckle, I have a script P for Phantom. Added to the heart are delicate stars, one for each of the girls and one for Jax. The design is super thin and ladylike, and I even had Michael’s heart touched up so it looks fresh and matches the rest of the design.
Now, instead of a faded heart that represents old memories, I have a story that combines my past, my present, and my future. Exactly the kind of tribute a great tattoo should be.
When I’m done, I take the kids for ice cream and wait for a text from Phantom. He was going to be a lot longer than I was, so I drove his truck and he rode his motorcycle to the tattoo parlor. After ice cream, I take the truck and drive the kids home, leaving Phantom for as long as his ink will take.
The kids are all tucked in when I hear the rumble of his bike pulling into the driveway. Even after all these months, I still get butterflies when I hear that sound. I think of his gorgeous eyes, his beard, his grunts, and I take off down the stairs to meet him.
“Hey,” I say, banging into his chest. I pull him close for a hug, but he winces and lifts his arms. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. Where did you get it? Did I hurt you?”
He chuckles. “I’m fine. Come on, let’s go inside.”
We lock up the garage and head up to our bedroom. “The kids are going to want to see. Should I wake them?”
He shakes his head. “They’ll see it tomorrow. I want you to be the first.”
We go into our bedroom and shut the door. Phantom sits down on the bed and unbuttons his shirt. “So, remember when I had Jax come to the compound with me? When your mom met you and the girls for smoothies?”
I nod. “Of course.”
“I asked Jax to start this for me then. We had to do a couple revisions based on the available space, but here’s what I got.”
He peels back the clear film and the white bandage that is keeping it dry. On his left pectoral muscle, right over his heart, he’s added something to the tattoos he has for both Daisy and Holly.
“It’s a poppy,” I stammer, my eyes filling with tears. “Jax drew this?”
Phantom nods, and I lean closer. The design is still oozing a tiny bit of blood in spots, but I can make out a gorgeous, really detailed poppy flower. The center of the flower is shaped like a heart, and the stem and leaves curl around the Daisy and Holly tattoos, forming a larger heart.
“It’s small,” Phantom explains, “but I wanted Jax represented too.” He points to three curling, vine-like things that come out stylistically from the stem of the flower. “If you look close, these three things are letters.”
“J-A-X,” I whisper.
I don’t know what to say. I feel elated, giddy, emotional. I want to hug my son, our girls, Phantom. I can’t contain the love that I feel. I truly have no words. I take a page from Phantom’s playbook and say nothing. I just hold out my left hand.
“Fuck.” He looks over the delicate designs. “Jax did this, too? God, babe. He’s good. This is gorgeous.”
He replaces the bandages and buttons up his shirt. “We’ll have to be a little careful fucking,” he laughs. “It’s going to be tender for a few days.”
