Page 99 of Protector

He shook his head. “You’re gonna get us all killed, Celia.”

I shrugged and followed him into the booth. “Does he really know everybody who comes in here?”

“What do you mean?” He asked distractedly while arranging the various bottles of ink on the counter.

“I mean…” I settled into the chair. “He said he knew everybody who came by. Do you have to call him for every single customer?”

“Nope.” Ryan studied the picture again before looking up at me. “He usually sees them on the cameras. Now, where do you want this?”

I pulled the skirt of my dress up over my hip. “Here.”

He tucked his lip between his teeth as he studied it. “Looks like it scarred pretty aggressively. Where’d you have it done?”

“I didn’t. It was done to me. Look, can you fix it or not?”

“Yeah, I think we can hide most of it with…” He snagged the photo and held it up to my leg. “The shading on the head. The wings might extend up onto your stomach and lower back some. What do you think?”

The wings could’ve extended up to my neck, and I wouldn’t have cared if it meant I could look in the mirror and not be reminded of them.

Feeling as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, I happily agreed.

Ryan scanned the image onto his computer and began enlarging it. “Celia, this is fantastic artwork. Do you mind me asking who designed it? Maybe we could bring them on here.”

I laughed softly, ignoring the bitter tang of regret on my tongue. “Well, she’s only sixteen, but my daughter, Dakota, drew it for me.”

In actuality, she’d drawn the phoenix for the city’s local art contest but hadn’t won. There was no way for her to have known about the mythical bird or what it symbolized for her father and me. I knew that, but it hadn’t stopped me from stealing it.

I was forced to sit back and watch helplessly as my mother enrolled Dakota in tap and ballet classes while ignoring her raw talent for art.

I wasn’t the only one who appreciated the work she’d put into it. Jamie had studied it for hours, noting the similarities between Dakota’s drawing and the comics. He’d promptly had it tattooed on one of the few blank spots left on his back.

“You know, it wouldn’t matter if she was twenty-six. She’s Grey’s daughter,” Ryan added knowingly. “And completely off-limits.”

We might’ve been barred from seeing our children, but it hadn’t stopped us from doing everything in our power to keep them safe.

Within reason, of course.

When he found out Dakota was being bullied in junior high, Jamie had pushed to take the kids out. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to talk him down.

After making a few adjustments, Ryan printed out a larger version of Dakota’s drawing and applied it to my skin like a temporary tattoo.

My eyebrows pulled together as I stared down at my hip. “That’s it?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Haven’t even started yet. Get comfortable because this is gonna take a while.”

There was a sharp rap against the wooden door frame, and Ryan glanced up over my shoulder.

“Hey, man. I don’t have time today, but one of the other—”

The man sighed. “You’re kidding, right? I’ve had this booked for weeks.”

Recognizing the voice, I slowly looked over my shoulder with a wince. “Hey, Mikey. I didn’t mean to take your appointment.”

He pulled his eyes away from where they were zeroed in on my ass and looked up toward my face. There was a sort of guilty pleasure in witnessing the moment he realized who I was.

“Celia?” He crossed the room and went in for a hug, only to pull back to study the design. “Holy fuck, that’s cool. Is it your first?”

I nodded and was struck by how much he resembled his father. Not that I would ever tell Jamie that.

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