Page 833 of End Game

Jules looks from him to Ronan, then to Dex, and finally to me.

“Is this a cult?”

Dex lights up. “Thank you. That’s exactly what I said.”

“You did not.”

“I thought it.”

“Different thing.”

Jules looks at Griffin. “Blink twice if they brought you here against your will.”

Griffin stares at them. “No one could bring me anywhere against my will.”

Jules considers him. “Fair.”

Dex leans against the counter. “We’re getting married.”

Ronan looks up sharply.

Griffin says, “Two of us are getting married.”

“Details.”

“Important details.”

Jules points between the four of us. “Matching tattoos before a wedding.”

“Wedding present,” I clarify.

That changes their expression immediately. “Oh.”

Their eyes drop toward the sketch on my counter before coming back to us.

“Okay. That’s actually kind of sweet.”

Dex presses a hand to his chest. “We’re a very emotionally healthy cult.”

“No cult has ever said that.”

“Excellent point.”

I point toward their station. “Go bother somebody else.”

Jules grins and goes back to their client.

Ronan stands. “My turn.”

I look at him for a second before I move. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

There’s no hesitation, but there hasn’t been for weeks. Once Ronan decides something, most of the deliberation has already happened somewhere privately in his head.

He chose his left forearm, several inches below the inside of his elbow. Not hidden, not somewhere covered most of the time. Somewhere he’ll see it every single day.

He rolls his sleeve higher and settles into the chair while I pull the stool closer.