Page 13 of Rocking for the Rebel (Rejected 3)

Epilogue One

Joey

Eight years later:

Watching the love of my life and the mother of my two children cutting the ribbon on her new Pink Ink Tattoo shop location will go down as one of my happiest memories. I think back to when we were younger, and she mentioned her dream, and I knew that she would make it a reality even back then. Lexi’s strength, determination, and drive know no bounds, and I’m damn fucking proud of her. She has worked so hard for this. She and her partner both have, and I smile as I watch them embrace. This is their second location, but Pink Ink is one of the country’s most sought-after tattoo franchises. They have been booked out for the next two years; they had to open another location just to keep up.

“Mama is a badass. I want to be a taztoo artiss,” our youngest daughter, Tink, says from my arms as I hold her.

“Language,” our oldest daughter, Tricksy, tells her.

“You’ve been hanging around pop pop too long. Don’t let Aunt Livi hear you saying that,” I warn Tink.

“Please, I’m a great influence on them. Speaking of, give me my grandson. Let’s go rock out with mommy, little dude. Coming my angels?” Waylon beckons. Our four-month-old son Dirks, yes, named after his grandfather, looks so small in his arms, and both my daughters are teetering after him.

He weaves through the crowd, headed straight for my wife. She’s still just as beautiful as ever. Even more tattoos adorn her body, and the pink in her hair is still as hot and bright as ever. She still keeps me on my toes, mouths off, and challenges me at every turn. She’s given me the best life any rebel could ask for.

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