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He cupped her face. “I’m a tattoo artist.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve seen it all. Someone’s name, a pun, a cheesy butterfly. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“It’s a scorpion,” she whispered.

He reared back. His gaze ran up and down her body but not with judgment.

The shame pulsing through her veins was entirely self-inflicted.

She wrapped her arms around herself, covering her breasts. The gesture didn’t stop how exposed she felt.

“Did you choose that?” he asked, and she could sense his caution.

Carrie shook her head.

Kid swore under his breath. He turned away from her, rage radiating off him. With a loud boom, his fist slammed into the filing cabinet.

Startled, she gasped and jumped away.

Another loud bang sounded as he repeated it with the other hand. “Motherfucker.”

“Stop.” She went to him and took hold of one of his fists. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

He grabbed the back of her head and yanked her against him in a hug.

She stiffened for half a second—caught off guard by his aggressive yet tender gesture. Thankfully, she relaxed into him with ease.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“You didn’t do it,” she said quickly.

“I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened. I should’ve found you sooner—protected you.”

Hell no. She wasn’t about to let him take the blame for what had been done. “You didn’t know.”

When this had gone down, she and Kid hadn’t seen each other in years. He had no idea what Mike was doing to her.

“That’s not an excuse.”

Why was he so hell-bent on taking responsibility for someone else’s actions? “It’s not your fault.”

“I promised your brother.”

She pulled back and gripped his face, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Stop.”

He quieted, but the pain in his gaze made her heart hurt. She didn’t want to cause that in him. He didn’t deserve that burden.

“I’m okay.”

“Can I fix it?” he asked.

She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

“You can get it removed,” he said as her hands fell away. “I’ll pay for it.”

“No.” She shook her head.

That kind of thing wasn’t cheap, and from what she’d heard, the process was quite painful. Not that she’d ever looked into it. Honestly, as much as she hated the tattoo Mike had branded her with, she never thought of removing it. She just tried to ignore its existence. Most days she could. It wasn’t like she stared at her own pussy.

“Then let me cover it for you,” he said.