"You seemed surprised to see him with me."
Wolf's smile is enigmatic.
"On the contrary. I’ve heard a lot about you. Let's just say I've known him through many…phases of his life."
She doesn’t elaborate and I don’t ask her to. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to know what she means. The needle touches my skin suddenly, and I gasp at the sharp sting.
"Breathe," she instructs. "This is the part where you decide if it's worth the pain."
I breathe out and nod for her to continue. As she works, I find myself thinking about the wedding, about the man I'm supposed to marry and about Frankie. Each pinprick of painfeels like a small rebellion, a way of claiming something for myself before I belong to someone else.
When it's done, Wolf helps me sit up and hands me a mirror. It’s perfect…delicate white petals with intricate shading and small enough to be discreet but unmistakable. It’s my choice and it’s etched permanently on my skin. Frankie returns just as I’m pulling my shirt back on. His eyes lock on the edge of my shirt coming down, and something unreadable crosses his face. He pays Wolf generously with a stack of cash that surprises me, and she walks us to the door.
"Bye Liana, it was nice to meet you…and…Frankie…message me for your next appointment." She laughs and shakes her head at him as we exit.
"Why was she laughing at you?" I ask as we step onto the street.
He scowls, shrugging his shoulders like he doesn’t know but I can tell he does.
"Let's get dinner."
The sun is setting as we find a small restaurant on the town square. We eat but Frankie seems distracted, his eyes repeatedly drifting down to my shirt where my new tattoo lies hidden beneath my clothes.
"Does it hurt?" he asks finally.
"A little," I admit. "But it was worth it."
Something shifts in his expression. A look of pride, maybe?
"I’m glad you’re happy."
Chapter Sixteen
Liana
After dinner, we walk back to the car, but instead of heading toward the highway, Frankie drives to a small hotel at the edge of town.
"What are we doing here?" I ask, my heart suddenly racing.
"It's late," he says, not meeting my eyes. "I booked a room. We'll head back in the morning."
Inside, the receptionist smiles apologetically.
"We only had one room left, as I mentioned on the phone…a king bed.”
“Have someone move,” Frankie growls out.
“I’m sorry sir…”
He says something else so low the poor lady turns white as a sheet but before I know what’s happening, he’s grabbing my arm and directing me out of the office.
‘One room. One bed.’
My mouth goes dry as Frankie walks me towards our room, tension crackling between us like static electricity. I can feel his eyes on me as he looks down at me before putting thekeycard in the door and pushing it open. We walk in and the door closes behind us with a soft click that sounds like a gunshot in the silence. The room seems cozy enough minus the giant king-sized bed dominating it. Frankie sets our overnight bags down and runs a hand through his hair, looking everywhere but at me.
‘When did he pack those?’
"I can take the floor," he says finally.
