“Hunted by whom?”
“The police.Social services.The people who murdered our parents.You name it.”
“Who murdered your parents?”
“Monsters.That’s all you need to know.”
“So you went through some shit together.Doesn’t explain why you look at her the way you do.Like she’s not your stepsister.”I grind the needle a little deeper, intentional, watching the skin respond.
He doesn’t flinch.“Maybe you should pay attention to how she looks atme.”
“She seems more interested in disappearing from your life entirely.”
“You assume she knows what she feels.”
“And you do?”
“I know she needs me.That’s never changed.”
“You’re the reason she sleeps with a knife under her pillow.”
This time, he does flinch.“You protect her like you know her.”
“I protect her because I recognize a cage when I see one.”
“You think I’m her prison.”He tilts his head.
“I think that’s your plan.”
The machine buzzes against his skin as I begin detailing the circuitry veins running along the jaguar’s spine.
His eyes remain on my face, studying, curious.Carnal.
“Why didn’t you let your vicious brothers kill me?”he asks.
“Dove doesn’t want that, and for now, that’s enough.But don’t mistake my patience for forgiveness.”
“I don’t think you want me dead, either.”
I pause, glancing at his swollen, broken wrist resting on his abdomen.“Nice hand.”
Fury ignites in his eyes, reminding me who I’m tattooing.
“Touchy.”I wipe the ink away with more force than necessary.
“Speaking of touchy, have you touched my sister?”
“Yes.But that’s not what you’re asking.”I meet his gaze evenly.“You want to know if I’m giving her the ol’ in and out.”
“Are you?”His voice drops to a guttural rasp.
Ah.There it is.The edge beneath the question.The crack in his tone he tried to bury under a cool, murderous whisper.I struck something vital.
He doesn’t care if I’m dangerous.Doesn’t care that I have needles in his skin or that I could break his other wrist without blinking.
But the idea that I’ve been inside her?That I’ve touched what he thinks belongs to him?That’s the wound that bleeds.He’s not afraid of death.He’s afraid of being replaced.That’s his weakness.Not pain.Not blood.Her.
I could lie.Feed him every brutal detail he’s terrified to hear.Watch the storm roll in behind his eyes and swallow him whole.
