Page 38 of Rage's Heart

“When did you…?” she trailed off, looking up at me like I’d pulled off some kind of magic trick.

“Gator dropped it off earlier,” I explained, pulling out a chair for her.

Her lips twitched. “Gator?”

I swayed my head back and forth, looking for the words to describe the King’s enforcer to her. Telling her he was a gun for hire didn’t seem like a smart move. “A friend of mine.” I settled on.

She sat down, her expression softening in a way that made my chest tighten. “This is really nice.”

I took the seat across from her, opening the wine and pouring two glasses. “Don’t get too excited yet. It’s just sandwiches and stuff. Gator’s culinary skills are limited.”

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s perfect,” she assured me, accepting the glass I offered.

As we ate, something shifted between us. The walls I usually kept firmly in place started coming down, brick by brick. She told me about wanting to be a radiologist someday, about losing her dad when she was twelve, how her brother Jack had tried to step into his shoes but never quite fit them.

I opened up too, telling her about my sister and being raised by our grandmother. How we grew up in the rougher part of Jacksonville, finding a family with the Saints, and how I got into tattooing by practicing on anyone who volunteered.

“How’d you end up with Saints Ink?” she asked, sipping her wine.

Memories I usually kept locked away surfaced. “Mad Dog. He was a brother in the club. He was killed by a drunk driver. Hit head on.” The piercing pain I usually felt when I told this story wasn’t quite as sharp when I saw the sad look on her face.

“I’m sorry,” she offered.

I shrugged. “It was a long time ago. But long story short, he left it to me in his will.”

Her eyes went wide. I knew the feeling I hadn’t expected it either.

“I’d love to see your work someday,” she said, smoothly changing the subject when she picked up on my unease. “Your tattoos, I mean.”

I felt my lips curve into a smirk. “You’ve already seen plenty of them, baby.”

A flush crept up her neck, her eyes dropping momentarily before meeting mine again. “I mean in a professional capacity. Although,” she eyed me up and down as her teeth scraped across her plump lip. “I definitely enjoyed the personal viewing, too.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll give you another showing anytime you want.”

“Good to know.”

We finished eating, and I packed away the remains while Mac wandered outside.

Following her out, I found her staring up at the massive Ferris wheel, her blonde hair caught in the breeze.

“One last ride?” She turned to me, her face illuminated by the park’s lights.

“Will it hold?”

“It’ll hold,” I replied, already heading for the control panel.

Just like the other rides we’d ridden, the wheel groaned to life. I held the carriage steady as Mac climbed in, then joined her, not at all upset that the small space forced us closer together.

“Here we go.” I reached out and hit the button and with a jerk, we slowly began to climb towards the sky.

I watched her face as we rose higher, enjoying the way her eyes lit up at the view.

The Gulf stretched out dark and endless on one side and the distant lights of Odin on the other.

When we reached the top the cart came to a shuddering halt.

Mac’s big blue eyes darted up at me. “Oh shit.”

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