“Told you,” Doc says to Bobby. “Where do you want it, Tits?”
I look around in amazement. “Now?”
“Why not?” Adriano places a big black machine on the table. “You don’t have to get the apple—”
“I want to,” I say at once. “I want the same as all of you.”
“Not possible,” Adriano growls. “Your design is more delicate, with four swords.”
“One for each of you,” I breathe. “What about the apple? Is it for Orchard? Or is it the official fruit of Velvet House or something?”
“My God, she really doesn’t care about getting a tattoo,” Eli says darkly, moving toward the bar. “The apple is for you. It’s the fruit of January.”
“And it’s the same color as your lips,” Bobby adds. “We thought it was the perfect way to show you that you’re ours. The center of our hearts and we’ll spend the rest of our lives taking care of you.”
“The others thought that,” Doc says with a smirk. “I wanted a couple of melons, but I was overruled.”
I ignore him, focusing on Adriano, the man who swore he’d never ink me. “Can I really have a tattoo?”
Adriano inclines his head. “It’s a sign that we can compromise, Pryntsesa. Or whatever you want to call it.”
I understand what he means. It’s evidence that the four cold, cruel men who’ve fallen in love with me can change, even more than they already have. Tears burn in the backs of my eyes, and I move toward Adriano, kissing him on his scratchy, scarred cheek. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” he rasps. “More than I’ve ever loved anything. More than the whole world.”
“Simp alert,” Doc mutters.
I reach past Adriano and swat him.
“So where should I get my apple?” I ask. I look at Eli, still refilling his scotch at the bar. Surely Mr. Control Freak will be the one in charge of where my tattoo goes? But he just shakes his head.
“That’s your decision,bella.”
“Don’t take too long deciding,” Doc says. “Eli was hard enough to convince as it is.”
“January will look beautiful with a tattoo,” Eli says shortly. “But the thought of you in pain…”
“I can handle pain.”
I meant it as a throwaway line, but shame passes over the faces of each of my men. I press a hand to my heart, but I don’t say anything. With everything that’s happened, I’ve done a lot of thinking about what they did to me when I was their prisoner. I’ve forgiven them, but I can’t pretend they didn’t hurt me or scare me. They did. And the guilt each of them carries for that is their own. Eventually, I hope they’ll come to forgive themselves too.
“January,” Bobby says quietly. “Where do you want the ink?”
I close my eyes and try to picture where my tattoo could go. On my shoulder? On my lower back? Emmy at Dreams has a tattoo on her chest that looks amazing, but I don’t know that I’m cool enough to pull that off. I want something subtle, that won’t be in every single photo I ever take.
Then it comes to me.
“How about on the back of my right arm?” I ask Adriano. “Just above the elbow?”
He nods once, but from the way his green eyes are gleaming, I can tell he’s pleased. He gestures to his chair and once I’m settled against the velvet seat, he turns his tattooing machine on and pulls on a pair of black latex gloves with a practiced motion.
The sight of the needle makes my stomach flip. “How big will it be? My tattoo?”
Adriano pauses. “Pryntsesa, do you trust me to make you more beautiful?”
I nod.
“Then it will be as big as it needs to be.”
