I instantly hated whoever had hurt him. “That’s a really cynical way to look at love.”
“That’s a painful place to get a tattoo. Pretty bold choice for a newbie.” He abruptly changed the subject.
I understood loud and clear. “How much more?”
Matt sprayed something cool and soothing onto my skin and wiped it off before he set the gun to my skin again. “No, kids, we’re not there yet,” he joked.
“You sat through five of these?” I asked Jagger. Pain laced my voice into an almost whine. “I’m such a wimp.”
“You’re doing fine.” I loved the feel of my hand in his. There was no awkward placement of fingers or clammy grip. It felt natural.
“Have mercy on me and let me ask another question?”
Jagger half laughed. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about one of your tattoos. Your first?”
Something dark flickered across his face. “How about my last?”
I nodded, willing to take whatever he would give.
He let go of my hand and lifted his shirt, revealing the black scrollwork that cut across his lower abs. My mouth watered at the idea of tracing it with my tongue. Bad! I shut that thought down immediately.
“It says, ‘I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul.’”
Unable to stop myself, and careful not to move my upper body, I touched the black ink, his skin hot under my fingers. “‘Invictus.’”
He sucked in his breath. “It’s my turn to be impressed.”
“I’m fixing to be a librarian, remember?” I forced my fingers away. “What language is that?”
“Tok Pisin. It’s from Papua New Guinea.”
“What?” I laughed, despite the pain wracking my ribs.
“Hey, don’t move, or you’re going to have some very different words over here,” Matt threatened.
“Sorry, Matt,” I said over my shoulder. “So, is English too trendy for you?” I joked at Jagger.
He looked over my shoulder. “What, Matt, you’re not chiming in?”
“Nawh, man. My job is to keep the secrets, not to expose yours.”
His eyes flickered to mine. “They’re my truths and no one else’s. If I want to share them, it’s my choice. Well, unless I travel to Papua New Guinea shirtless, I guess.”
His wry smile didn’t fool me. “How many people know what it means?”
“Just you.” He swallowed.
My breath stilled, and it felt like we existed in a time all our own. “Thank you for trusting me.”
His face was a kaleidoscope of emotion, changing too quickly to identify. “We’re friends.”
Before I could respond, Matt sprayed my skin again and wiped it clean. “You’re all set, Paisley.”
I looked over, scared to see if I’d end up as one of those epic fail posters with the wrong tattoo, but it was perfect. Fierce. “It’s exactly what I wanted. Thank you.” My voice nearly broke, but Matt took it in stride, cracking a smile.
He slathered on ointment, then bandaged it. A set of directions and a paid bill later, and Jagger and I were on our way back to Enterprise.
I loved my tattoo. I loved every black line, every curve of ink, every feeling that washed over me when I looked at it. I’d never done anything so permanent, or anything that was liable to get my butt whooped. But I wasn’t afraid. Peyton wouldn’t have been afraid. No, she would have strutted into the house in a sports bra and rolled her eyes when Mama said something.
Maybe I wasn’t as fearless as Peyton, but she’d been right. I was fierce in my own right. As if the ink reached deeper than my skin, it seemed to bleed into my soul. I had given up so much in the name of being safe, and not only in regard to my heart. How much was there to give before I wasn’t me anymore?
“Mission accomplished?”
“Absolutely. Best tattoo guide ever.” I gently squeezed his hand, then released it. “Tell me why you have ‘Invictus’ across your stomach?”
He stared quietly at the road so long that I didn’t think he was going to answer, our soundtrack only the chirping of crickets.
“What’s with the Shakespeare?”
I smiled. Quid pro quo. He’d never give up something of his own without learning something equally deep. “I read it my sophomore year, and it spoke to me. Peyton was always bigger than life, and growing up with that…well, it makes you feel smaller somehow, and not just in height. She was fearless. The last time we were together, she said, ‘I may be wild, Lee, but you’re fierce. Your heart is so much stronger than mine.’” I swallowed and closed my eyes for the smallest moment, almost feeling her arms around me that last time.
“Then she slipped this”—I pulled the paper I’d had my tattoo drawn from—“into my back pocket.” His eyes darted to mine. “I may be little, but I’m fierce, and I’m going to live every day remembering that. She wouldn’t want anything else, and I’m so sick of accepting anything less.”
Silence stretched between us while he deliberated. I kept my focus on his profile, letting him know that I expected his trust in return for mine.
“I left my house, my father, as soon as I was legally able to emancipate myself. I abandoned every plan he ever made for me, every expectation that anchored me to his world. I became the captain of my ship.”