He holds my gaze like he’s trying to communicate something. “Stormy, like the ocean crashing against the cliffs.”
“What does the tattoo across your heart mean?” I ask. It’s something that has been niggling at my mind since that first night in this apartment.
His hands twitch around mine as he swallows. “They are roman numerals.”
“Yes, Einstein, I know that. Why do you have 12-12-20 tattooed on your chest?”
“It’s the day I almost lost my sister.”
“You have a sister and a brother?” This seems like shit I should know as a fake girlfriend.
“No brother.”
I frown. Why is he lying? “Mark called you his brother.”
Hunter’s eyes narrow. “It’s an affectionate term used between close members of the club.”
I don’t understand. Someone is either biologically related to you or not. “But you do have a sister?”
“I do.” He sighs and rolls his shoulders like he’s trying to shake off whatever is weighing him down. “And yours?”
“I don’t have a sister.”
“No, Eleanor. What does your tattoo mean?”
I fucked up. I asked him a personal question, and I have no interest in reciprocating the honesty. Still, he gave me what it means, not why he has it. That’s something that goes more than skin deep; it cuts to the bone. And neither of us are willing to wield the blade tonight.
I glance away from his hot gaze. He can’t see the truth. He can’t see me. “They are lotus flowers.”
“I know, Einstein.”
My lips twitch.Touché.“It symbolizes rebirth.”
His thumbs trace my knuckles. “Look at me,” he pleads softly. I steel my breath and turn back to face him. “What does the tattoo mean to you? Not what a Wikipedia search would show me.”
My chest tightens. “To me, it means transformation. You can’t be reborn. What happens to you can’t be erased, but you can use it to power yourself and rise from the dark into a place of beauty.” I don’t look away as I crack open my heart a little. “But I’m not there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know there is a better life, one lived in sunshine and filled with happiness. I tried reaching for it, but it’s not happening for me. This tattoo represents a dream. Hope. Wistfulness. It’s a permanent reminder I can be the transformation for many others in this world by stopping the man seeking to extinguish their light.”
He sighs. “You fight for everyone but yourself.”
“Fighting for them is my redemption.”
He shakes his head, his lips pressed tightly together. “I won’t let you martyr yourself, Eleanor. Life is messy. It’s shades of every emotion. No one gets to live in the light one hundred percent. The trick is recognizing the opportunities and seizing them with both hands so when the pain comes, you rememberwhat you are living for. That cannot be found in the lives of strangers.”
“You don’t get a say in how I live my life, Hunter.”
“Then I’ll make it my mission to drag you kicking and screaming into the world you think you don’t deserve.”
I groan. Fighting against Hunter makes him hold tighter. I don’t want his emotions wrapped up in mine; that will make this harder, making it almost impossible to do what has to be done, and I can’t waver. I can’t fail.
“Is Charlie your first dog?”
His brow furrows at my rapid and abrupt change of topic. We are both stubborn, so going around in circles where he tells me what to do, and I tell him to get lost, seems tiresome and pointless.
“This conversation isn’t over.” His eyes flash in the neon lights, seeming almost molten.
