Deep.
I lifted her face, so she was looking into my eyes, “Star Shine. Don’t. If I were being honest, I didn’t want you to know.”
Her head jerked back in a front, “Why not?”
“‘Cause you saw me a certain way. I never wanted you to see me as anything different.”
She shook her head, “That’s bullshit.”
I nodded, “I know. I’m getting that from what you said.”
She opened her mouth and then... she closed it.
I looked where she was staring, and then I looked back at her.
Slowly, she brought her hand up and lightly touched the word on my left ring finger.
“Ripper? What’s this?” She asked.
I clenched my jaw.
I knew that I fucked up when I snapped at her for using my old name, but fuck, I quit being that innocent boy that night all those years ago.
But... hearing her call me Ripper... just doesn’t sit right with me.
I know the saying goes, you can’t have your cake and eat it too, but fucking hell, whoever came up with that saying didn’t know a woman like Creedence Nichols existed.
I shook my head.
Now wasn’t the time for my little pity party.
She had asked me a question.
I looked down at the spot her eyes had zeroed in on and felt every muscle in my body lock up tight.
Fuck. Me.
“What does it look like?” I asked with a rasp.
Not even recognizing the tone I had used.
Her eyes flared.
“It looks like my name.”
I nodded.
“Why do you have that?”
“The same reason you have on the necklace I got you,” I said as I reached a hand out and touched the two bullet casings with our birthstones on them.
She swallowed, “When?”
“I would have done it before I deployed, but I talked to someone—not good to have any identifying marks on your skin. So, the moment I got out, I came up here. Sat outside your apartment to make sure you stayed safe, then went to a buddy and had him do it.”
“And when you got out... it was after five years in. Wasn’t it?”
I nodded, “Yeah.”
