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Hegot me flustered. We’d been broken up for months now, but sitting here, hearing him call me LizBelle, it was like none of that happened. Like we were still together.
“Education, huh?”
“Guess the blind can teach the blind.” He shrugged. “I’d be cool with that.”
“You’d be great at it.” I stared at him in awe. He was in college. Getting around with a service dog. He was making something of his life.
But without me.
“Not too sure about great, but—”
“Hey, your tattoo.” I flipped over his left hand. He’d always worn a band of leather to cover up his gang tat, but now there was something new.
I pulled his hand closer. “What’s…”
It was a heart with a bell inside.
“What’s this?”
“Talked with Walker a few weeks back.”
“As in Walker?” I repeated in shock.
“Killer and I marched right into the jail and demanded to see him.” He leaned forward. “Told him what I wanted.”
“Which was?”
His fingers fluttered down the side of my face, and it tripped the ever-familiar tingle in my stomach only he could elicit. I swiped my thumb over his wrist.
“A chance,” he said, his forefinger sweeping my bottom lip. “At a life.”
Tears stung my eyes.
“He recommended the tattoo be changed to something else, since I was out.”
“Out. As in…out.”
“He spread the word, LizBelle.”
“Belle—”
“It’s you, LizBelle. I want—”
“What’s up?” Trent’s voice blasted through the moment like a tidal wave pulverizing the shore.
I jerked back. Trent, eyebrow raised at me, towered over us.
“Perfect timing, preppy,” Damon snarked.
“What’s going on, Lizzie?”
“Cool it, douchebag, I was freaking out with a headache, she helped me.”
I sat there, utterly speechless. Damon was going to say “you”, wasn’t he? He wantedme. And the tattoo. Over the gang symbol, a bell in a heart? First, totally not a manly tattoo. Second, that bell was me.
Holy shit.
“What did you just call me?” Trent’s voice raised.
