Page 32 of Saved By the Rogue

"Then get me a mirror so I can see it!" I ordered him, and he shook his head at me, pushing the chair back from mine and grabbing a large mirror propped up against the counter. He brought it back around to me, and held it up, allowing me to see his handiwork.

"Woah," I breathed, as I took it in for the first time. It looked...it looked so badass. The dog snapped from the center of my back, and, as I peered closer, I noticed a detail on its right ear that wasn’t in the design on the door.

"What’s that?" I asked, staring at it. He shifted the mirror so I could get a better look, grinning proudly.

"It’s a star," he replied. "Just like the one on your wrist."

I felt a pang at his sweetness; he’d made sure this tattoo was specific to me, as a member of the Dogs. I gazed at it, shaking my head.

"It’s perfect," I murmured.

"I’m so glad you like it," he told me, planting a kiss on my shoulder. "Now, let me get this wrapped up..."

He headed to grab some gauze and tape from behind the counter, and I admired myself in the mirror – it was so strange, seeing myself like this, but strange in a good way. Strange in the right way. As though I was finally seeing myself as I was meant to be for the first time. As a member of a family I had chosen to be a part of, not one I had just been born into.

Because that family, my blood family, had nothing to do with me anymore. My father was in prison, and it looked like my mother and brothers would be quick to follow him – it turned out he had been using my brothers’ business to launder money through, and my mom had known all about it.. I had gone under the radar enough that the cops hadn’t called me in for more than a brief statemen because there was so much they already had on him. He was going down, for good, and I couldn’t have been more relieved about it.

Not just for me, but for Atwood, too. I didn’t know exactly who was going to replace him, but I knew they had to be better for this place than he had ever been. That asshole, he had only ever been out for himself, and I didn’t even want to think about what he had allowed to go under the radar without punishment over the course of his time in office. What he had ignored and looked away from, for the sake of his own back pocket. It made me so ashamed to think that I had been a part of that, even tangentially, for so long, but the best I could do now was put as much distance between myself and him as I possibly could.

And this tattoo was a confirmation of that. Chuck had sworn me in as a member of the Dogs a couple of weeks after my father had gone to prison, and I knew it was where I belonged. I was ready to take on anything this world threw at me, no matter how tough, no matter how scary. I had already dealt with more than I ever imagined I could, and I was certain nothing could strike fear into me the way my father had. I’d taken on one of the most powerful men in the city – what chance did the criminal enemies of my new family stand against me?

Jaxon got me covered up, and, just as I pulled my shirt down, Chuck made his way into the front of the shop.

"Let’s see it, then," he remarked, and I flipped the back of my shirt up proudly, revealing the tattoo beneath.

"It’s going to look better once it’s all healed," Jaxon interjected quickly.

"Already looks pretty damn good to me," Chuck remarked. "You’re a good artist, Jaxon. I wish you’d told me that before. I would have had you charging double for the tattoos in this place."

Jaxon chuckled, and slipped his arm around my waist, careful not to put any pressure on my new ink.

"Hey, glad I could be of service," he remarked. I smiled at him proudly, but, before I could say anything else, the door to the shop flew open.

All of us turned to see who it was – and I raised my eyebrows to see Abbey striding in, a broad grin on her face.

"Hey, honey," she greeted me. "How’s it going?"

"It’s good," I replied, frowning at her. "What are you doing here?"

"You mentioned you were staying near a tattoo shop," she explained with a shrug. "It took a little sleuthing, but look, I found you!”

"Found me for what?" I asked, with a little laugh. Abbey was such a personality, she always came in with this ridiculous confidence that felt like it could have taken on the world and won – I appreciated that about her, but I was pretty sure I didn’t have anything else to add after I’d spilled all my father’s secrets to her.

"I wanted to see if you were interested in doing a follow-up story about your father’s case," she explained excitedly. "I have a few contacts in the company your brothers ran, and I think I have the beginnings of something really solid here..."

I pulled a face.

"I really don’t know much about what they were up to," I admitted. "I’m sorry. I don’t think I would be much use with that."

She shrugged.

"Well, I thought it would be worth asking," she replied. And then, she glanced around, as though just taking this place in for the first time. "What is this shop, anyway? Who runs it?"

"Me," Chuck intoned, from behind the counter. He didn’t seem entirely impressed by her presence. She flashed him a huge grin.

"Maybe I could do a story on you, then," she replied. "I mean, I’ve heard there’s a lot of gang activity in this part of the city...I bet you’ve run into a few people who’ve caused trouble over the years, right?"

"I guess you could say that," he replied dryly. I had to stifle a laugh. For a journalist who was so incisive in so many ways, she could be a little dense. Her eyes widened as she looked around, suddenly seeming to notice the new design in the window.

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