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“Worse,” Finn said with a chuckle. “I think he’s mellowed a lot with age.”
“That’s a disturbing thought. So, what did he do?”
“He watched me fight until I’d worn myself out and taken a couple of his guys down with me. I remember I was on the floor with a black eye and a bloody mouth, laughing. Back then, I welcomed any fight. It drowned out everything else I was feeling. It sounds crazy, but it gave me something to focus on, something that was immediate, rather than just the anger that always simmered in the back of my mind. So, there I was, lying on the floor and laughing like a lunatic, and Eli came up to me and said, ‘Boy, it’s clear you don’t have two brain cells to rub together. But you’re full of fire, and you’ve got potential. Now, the way I see it, you have two choices. You can let my guys keep knocking you around until you’re unconscious, and they dump your body in the creek. Or you can come work for me and make more money than you’ve ever seen. What’ll it be?’”
“So, you chose the money.” It made sense, considering how young and desperate Finn must’ve been at that age. With his mom struggling to make ends meet, the lure of making fast money would’ve been irresistible.
“Not quite,” Finn said with a pained grin. “I chose to punch him in the face.”
Cora gave a delighted gasp that ended on a hiccup. She slapped a hand over her mouth. “You punched Eli Shelton?” She’d have paid good money to see that.
“I did, and it’s the only time I ever got the chance. He knocked my lights out right afterward, but instead of waking up in the creek, I woke up on a lounge chair at the Doghouse. That’s when Eli offered to train me, and he told me how much money I could make if I joined the circuit.”
“So that’s how Finley Walsh became the legendary Jackrabbit.”
“It wasn’t easy, but I learned fast. Eventually, I made enough to help out my mom and sister while putting myself through college. Halfway through, I’d earned enough money to quit fighting, and after graduation, I went on to study law.”
“And the rest is history.” She stared into her now-empty wineglass. “Talk about landing on your feet. I bet your mom is really proud.”
“She’ll say that now, but back then I drove her crazy. Before my dad died, I was a model student with big plans for my future. I wanted to do photojournalism and travel the world. Maybe do an internship abroad. But things didn’t work out that way, and I ended up making a few detours.” He gave her a boyish smile that was contagious. “My mom says I didn’t just go off the deep end, I did a running swan dive into a pool of angst and never came up for air until years later.”
“Is that when you got that big tattoo on your back?” Cora teased. “During your angsty phase?” She’d been shocked the night of the barn fight when she’d witnessed Finn walking through the screaming crowd toward the cage. He’d been wearing shorts and gloves and not much else, and it was the first time she’d seen the large tattoo across his back. It had never occurred to Cora to wonder what Finn looked like underneath all his designer clothes and starched shirts, but if she had, she certainly wouldn’t have imagined the inked, sleekly muscled athlete she’d seen that night.
Finn’s cheeks flushed at her gentle teasing. He seemed suddenly younger and even a little self-conscious, and for a moment, she caught a glimpse of the carefree boy he must’ve been before things fell apart. The boy his mom must’ve missed.
“It was definitely a result of my rebellious phase,” he said. “My mom still gives me hell for it, even after all this time.”
“Let’s see it,” Cora said impulsively. She twirled her finger at him. “Turn around and show me.”
Finn looked surprised, then hesitant.
“Oh, come on. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” The barely-there blush across his cheeks deepened, and this time Cora couldn’t help giggling. “Besides, it’s the least you can do for all the trouble you gave me earlier at the stakeout.”
With an exaggerated sigh, he turned and reached over his shoulders, dragging his T-shirt up over the broad expanse of his back. In slow increments, the fabric lifted to reveal inch by inch of tanned skin until the dark, swirling tattoo appeared across his shoulder blades.
FIATJUSTITIARUATCAELUM.
“Wow,” Cora said with admiration. “It’s...stunning.” If she was staring a bit too long, it was only because the tattoo was exquisitely detailed, with darkly looping script and intricate, wicked-edged lettering. It was clearly a work of art. Her prolonged perusal had nothing at all to do with the fact that Finn’s broad shoulders and back rippled with lean, honed muscles that shifted intriguingly as he twisted to glance back at her. Somewhere in her alcohol-induced fog, Cora managed to tear her gaze away and say, “What does it mean?”
“‘Let justice be done, though the heavens fall.’” Finn dropped his shirt and turned back to face her.
A slow smile stretched across Cora’s face. Of course it did. How fitting. He was all about upholding justice, no matter the cost. “It suits you.”
“Tell that to my mom,” Finn said with a laugh. “It’s what I tried to explain back then, but she was thoroughly horrified that her teenager did something so permanent. She said I’d live to regret it someday.”
“And do you?” She highly doubted it.
“Not at all.” He settled back into the sofa cushions. “I first saw the phrase in a book I found in the library shortly after my dad passed away. I was trying to understand how the legal system worked, and how it could’ve failed him so spectacularly. When I saw the translation, I read it over and over again, and it really resonated with me. It still does. Probably even more now than it did then. I don’t know. It’s just...” He trailed off and shrugged, his face warming again as she stared at him.
“You,” Cora said simply. “It’s just so perfectlyyou.”
Finn blinked at her in surprise. His soft brown eyes filled with so much warmth and appreciation, and for a split second, Cora got the feeling she was catching a glimpse of him at his most vulnerable. There was gratitude that he could share his feelings with her, yes, but there was something else in the way he looked at her. Some stronger emotion she didn’t want to analyze.
She glanced away and began folding the blanket in her lap. “Anyway, you’re lucky you chose a tattoo that’s stood the test of time. My friend Suzette once dated a guy who inked an image of her face and the wordsSuzette 4EVRon his forearm.”
“And how’d that work out?” Finn asked in amusement.
“Not well. She broke up with him a week later. Aweek. She said any guy dumb enough to tattoo a girl’s face on his body after only two dates wasn’t exactly ‘forever’ material. The tattoo, however, was in it for the long haul,” Cora said with a helpless giggle.
