Page 83 of Joey

“What do you want and where?” Joey leaned forward.

“That’s the thing. I want it on my back, but I want you to choose the design for me.”

“You trust me with that? Usually, designs are meaningful in some way to the person getting it.”

Ethan took his hand. “But it will be. Because you chose something for me. Something you believed was right for me. That makes it meaningful.”

Joey’s eyes glistened again. “I’d love to. When?”

“Soon.”

Joey stared at him, shaking his head. “You’re amazing. I don’t know how I ever got so lucky for you to choose me in that bar.”

Ethan smiled. “I had no choice. I was just about to leave when I saw you. Pure chance. And approaching you was the best decision of my life.”

“Even with all this hassle?”

“Even with.” Ethan stood and leaned over, cupping Joey’s cheek. “I love you. I can’t think of a single thing in this life or the next that could change that.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do. And I deserve you. We deserve each other because we’re perfect for each other. Nothing can stop us from happening. Nothing.” Ethan kissed him, pouring every ounce of love into that kiss, hoping to heal some of the cracks in his armour and replenish his battered soul. He refused to give up Joey without a fight. And anyone who was coming for them? Well, they better watch out. He had a snarky tongue, and he knew how to use it.

****

Chapter 22

Joey

Joey had been no use to anyone for the rest of the previous day. After getting the confirmation that Grey had been playing them all this time, he felt sick to his stomach about tattooing Elliott’s name on his back. He couldn’t think of a reason for Grey wanting it. Some sort of trophy, maybe?

He barely slept, tossing and turning and disturbing Ethan enough times that he got out of bed and sat on the sofa with the remote, flicking through the options. He chose nothing. Just kept scrolling through while his mind did a similar thing with images of Elliott, Grey, Ethan, and basically everyone he cared for. His mind was awash with information he couldn’t sort through.

When Ethan roused at six o’clock that morning, he’d settled on the sofa beside him and held him. No words were spoken until Ethan asked him what he wanted for breakfast around an hour later.

Now, he was pacing his studio after receiving a call from the police asking to speak to him. Ethan sat in the tattoo chair.

A knock sounded, and Ethan opened the door, inviting Detectives Harmon and Keith inside.

“Thank you for agreeing to see us. This isn’t something we wanted to discuss over the phone,” Harmon said. “We arrested Grey Kennedy yesterday.”

Joey stared at them. “For getting David involved?”

Harmon shared a look with Keith, and Keith took over. “Yes, but also for other things. Drug supplying, assault and…” He sighed. “Grievous bodily harm.”

Joey frowned. “I can understand the drugs if he’s involved with his father, but GBH? On who?”

“Elliott.”

Joey’s legs trembled and didn’t want to hold him up again, and Ethan noticed, helping him to a chair. “I don’t…” He paused, memories resurfacing. “We’d noticed bruises on him a few months ago. Grey told us Robert’s men gave him a warning.”

“It wasn’t Robert’smen. It was his right-hand man,” Keith said.

Joey’s stomach rolled. “And you said there were more bruises that were unaccounted for.” Keith nodded. “What kind of bruises?”

Harmon shook his head. “You don’t need to know the details—”

“What kind of bruises?” he said again, this time more forcefully.

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