“I’ll walk with you,” Angel says, shoving a last piece of chicken into his mouth.
“You don’t have to escort me everywhere,” I say, giving him a look. “You should know that by now.”
“The Sinners were already fucking with you,” Heath points out, jumping in to explain while Angel’s mouth is full.“Now that they got kicked out of their lair, they’ll be out for blood. In fact, I’ll come too. Safety in numbers and all that.”
That must be their new motto, because the next Friday finds us all piling into Heath’s truck after Maverick agrees to talk to us. I end up on the narrow back seat with Saint, who has been avoiding me all week.
“I’m surprised you’re joining us,” I say. “Shouldn’t you be on a date with Ronique or something?”
“Shouldn’t you be riding my best friend’s face?” he shoots back. “I’m surprised he could come up for air for long enough to visit anywhere that’s not between your thighs.”
“Dude, don’t be such a little bitch,” Heath says. “He still sees us all the time.”
I cross my arms and stare out the side window the entire ride, refusing to look at my brother. I don’t know what his problem is. I chose him, over and over and over, and he never wanted me. He only touched me when his master ordered him to, and he’s barely spoken to me since. And now he’s dating my friend, and I have to hear about him from her all the time, since she seems to have forgotten how to talk about anything else.
Heath drives us back to the tattoo parlor where they took me that night. At the door, we run into Nate Swift, who’s coming out just as we’re going in.
“Oh, hey,” I say, pulling up in surprise.
“Hey, Mercy,” he says, then tips his chin at the Hellhounds. “Hey, guys.”
“Did you get a tattoo?” I ask, my tone more incredulous than I meant it to be.
The corner of Nate’s mouth lifts ruefully. “Just taking care of some business. You?”
“Same,” I say, then wave when Angel squeezes my hip, nudging me forward.
When Nate’s outside and the door closes behind us, Saint frowns at me. “I thought I told you not to talk to that guy.”
“I thought we agreed we weren’t policing each other’s friends.”
“Boyfriends,” he corrects, scowling at Angel.
“Come on in,” Maverick says, tipping his chin at Saint and dabbing up Angel and Heath in some kind of gang handshake. When he nods at me, my heart nearly stops, and I’m glad the boys insisted on coming with me. There’s something unnerving about Maverick’s gold-flecked green eyes, and I can’t help but remember how casually he pulled his gun, like he uses it every day.
“You getting a tattoo today, Merciless?” he asks.
I shrink against Angel, wishing his cousin would look at someone else.
“Yeah,” Angel says, putting an arm around me. “She’s getting my name tattooed right above her pussy, so everyone knows it’s mine.”
“You sure about that?” Heath asks.
“Angel,” I hiss, swatting his arm.
“Hey, I’ve already got your name tattooed on me,” he says. “It’s only fair.”
My mouth drops open in shock. “You do?”
“Yeah, see, right here,” he says, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a tattoo of a word written in script—SHAMELESS.
“That’s not my name,” I say, but he points to the M.
“Just like in our necklaces. Except I outgrew shame, so now I’m shameless.”
His smile is nothing short of smug.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not getting your name tattooed on me.”
