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The truth was, he was maybe the only one in my life right now that I trusted. Sure, Mia fit in that category—to an extent. Yet Sabre was connected to me on a deeper level, and while I might not know a lot of things about my life, I knew I trusted him with my life.
With him, I had found home.
“Yes.”
A grin lit his face, and I knew I was lost. This man held my heart in a way that shouldn’t make sense. Cradling his head, I nipped his jaw and crawled up to straddle his lap, and then I kissed him with a passion that took my breath away.
“How long do we have until Chains gets back?” I murmured breathlessly against his lips.
He growled and rolled us over.
We ended up killing time with my new favorite activity.
Sabre decided we should wait until the next morning. Once Chains and Jasmine got back with little Ehria, it was late, and the poor sweet girl was fussy her first night out of the hospital. Sabre and I both figured Jasmine could use her husband’s help. Chains had appeared so grateful, I almost giggled.
When we woke up, we had breakfast, then left the kitchen with Willow shooing us away with a wooden spoon when I tried to help her clean up. As we entered the common area laughing, I noticed Voodoo and Ghost talking with a man I’d never seen before.
Despite what seemed to be a handsome profile, he was a little scary-looking with his jet-black hair that matched every piece of his clothing. He glanced our way as I was turning to follow Sabre.
“Who was that?” I asked as we entered the downstairs hallway.
Sabre cast a glance back around the corner, then said, “Oh, that’s Calix. We uh, do work with him sometimes. Why?”
“He was darkly intense.”
“He’s, um, a little eccentric. Though I will say, he’s turned out to be a good friend to the club,” he vaguely explained.
I was distracted from asking further questions when we reached the infirmary where we met Chains. Sabre had explained Chains didn’t want to be too far away in case Jasmine needed him. I practically swooned when he told me that—I mean, how sweet. He showed the design to Sabre, who gave it his blessing, then went to work. I’d lost track of time after my shoulder went numb.
“Well, what do you think?” Chains handed me the mirror so I could use it with the full-length one on the wall to see my shoulder blade. Sabre had actually given me the choice between my wrist and my shoulder. I’d decided on my shoulder because if I hated it, I could keep it covered, and I wouldn’t be able to see it every day. Of course, I kept those thoughts to myself.
I gasped and held my hand over my mouth. Tears welled in my eyes before they darted to Sabre where he sat in a chair by my side. The one he’d been in the whole time—so he could hold my hand.
“I love it.”
The design was simple but beautiful. A softly colored sun was the background and a battle-worn sabre pierced through it. Then it said “PROPERTY OF” arching above the old sword and “SABRE” curved underneath. It reminded me a little of the patches he had sewn on his leather vest—his cut, as he’d informed me.
Some women might find it degrading, I imagined. But I loved and appreciated the sentiment behind it. He put his mark on me for all the world to see that I was his. He’d explained that the tattoo told everyone that I was protected not just by him, but by his club.
Chains went over care instructions, though I’d heard them often enough during the short time I was at the shop that I knew them by heart. I actually finished reciting the instructions as he was saying them, and he laughed.
“Guess you already know all that. You’re a good pupil. Maybe you should be a tattoo artist,” Chains teased.
When I thought we were finished, Sabre pulled his shirt off. He reached over and placed his finger under my chin and gently closed my mouth. He smirked and mouthed, “Later.”
“Why are you taking your shirt off?” I asked as he traded places with me.
“You’ll see.”
So, I watched as Chains cleaned up and meticulously set up for another tattoo. That time, he pulled out a different brand of ink. He was fluid yet efficient and wasted no time or movements as he got to work. The needle hit Sabre’s chest over his heart, and he didn’t so much as flinch.
Enraptured, I watched the same sun come to life on Sabre as Chains had put on me. Then, in script, he wrote across the sun, “Solis Aeterna.”
“What does it mean?” I asked as Chains wiped away the blood and excess ink. He looked to Sabre for permission. Sabre nodded with a half grin.
“It’s Latin for eternal sun,” Chains translated. My heart nearly melted.
Because my name was French for “sun.”
