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Emmett doesn’t say a word, looking from the back of Axel’s head to my face and back again. I want to ask him if he’s sure, tell him that he doesn’t have to do this, but I can see the steely determination in his gaze.
The urge to leap across the room is real, the desire to smother him with my limbs and show him how much this means to me is barely controllable, but I manage to hold it at bay as the hum of the gun starts up again.
His eyes remain fixed on mine the entire time he’s seated, my heart galloping in my chest, completely uncontainable. I’ve never felt more alive.
The second the sound of the gun stops and Emmett nods that he’s done, I drop to my knees on the floor in front of the sofa where I’m sitting. I hold myself still, eyes fixed on the grumpy man that has captured my heart along with the other three Ruthless Brothers in this room.
Silently, he falls to his knees from the coffee table, a meter or two away from me. My pulse rings in my ears, unsure what’s going to happen next as the room watches us, and then he floors me with a simple crook of his finger, calling me closer.
Running my tongue over my bottom lip, I drop to my hands, and he slowly eliminates the space between us. When I can’t get any closer without touching him, he tucks his hand under my chin and slowly lifts me up to my knees again.
When we’re eye to eye, he drops his hand and leans in close until we’re nose to nose. His lips touch mine for the briefest second, maybe millisecond, it’s over so quickly I’m almost sure it didn’t happen. But the heat where he touched and the pounding of my heart confirms it.
His hands wrap around my wrists, pulling my attention from his face, but as he slowly lifts them, I find myself looking deep into his eyes again as he places my palms against his cheeks. His beard is rough under my touch, his skin soft. His body shakes with every breath he takes, making it clear that this isn’t easy for him, and tears prick the corners of my eyes despite my best efforts to remain calm.
Thank you,I mouth, and he offers the smallest smile in response.
He rises to his feet in the next moment, pulling me along with him, and when he’s certain I’m not going to faint with bewilderment, he releases his hold on me.
“Are you going to do the honors, Scarlett?” Emmett asks, distracting me. My eyebrows pinch in confusion, until he waggles the tattoo gun in his hand.
I balk, sure he’s playing a prank on me, but when I shake my head, he nods his eagerly.
“You can’t be serious, Emmett. I have no idea what I’m doing, and it won’t look anything like it’s supposed to,” I insist, but he shrugs like that’s irrelevant. “Maybe you’re hungry. You’re not thinking clearly. Where’s your sister with that damn pizza?” I ask, glancing toward the door, but she doesn’t magically appear.
“Pizza? We all know they weren’t ordering pizza any time soon.” My eyes widen, but when I see the amusement in his gaze, I know he’s not mad. “Any other man in the world and I would be digging his grave right now, but if there’s anyone I trust with her, it’s him.”
“How long have you known?” I ask.
“He’s always been protective of her, more than necessary, and it only increased when she came home from the mall that day. She, however, has had his name written inside little hearts since she could write,” he muses.
“Why don’t you tell them you know and that you’re not mad?”
He grins. “Because it’s fun making him think otherwise.” The others chuckle, and I shake my head disapprovingly, but if that’s the extent of his feelings on the situation, then I approve. “Nevermind distracting me though. It’s not going to change my mind.”
“It’s not?”
He tears off his cut and tee, before dropping down into the same spot his brothers have taken.
“Ink me, Snowflake.”
TWENTY-TWO
Scarlett
The truck rumblesas the four of us squish into the front. Axel insisted on driving me to college today, Emily and Shift in tow. After our moment last night, the ink still fresh on his neck, I was eager to agree. But his thigh has been pressed against mine for the better part of the drive, and I think I may self-combust.
From. A. Fucking. Thigh. Touch.
I should be embarrassed, but I’m too aroused for that. And when he gives my knee the occasional squeeze, I barely keep my lips shut and the groan at the back of my throat. I’m sure he’s doing it on purpose, knowing full well he can do whatever he wants to me, all the while respecting his boundaries until he says otherwise.
Emily is to my right, with Shift pushed up against the truck door. They’re not looking at each other, faking indifference, but I can see he’s drawing small circles on the side of her leg where he thinks no one will be able to notice.
Amused, I rest my head back, anxious to be back at school again after skipping on day two. It wasn’t planned, but when a girl’s gotta die, a girl’s gotta die. Clearly, college classes were the furthest thing from my mind. That being said, despite everything that happened yesterday, life has to continue as normal. Which means I get to experience campus life while the guys back at the compound handle breaking the news that the evil witch is dead.
I would have enjoyed witnessing the fake crocodile tears streaming down the Ruthless Bitches’ faces, but alas, duty calls. As the familiar sign looms ahead, I sigh. It feels like it’s been an eternity since I was last here, and a flash in my mind reminds me what happened when I was here the last time.
Ryker.
