Page 60 of A Ryan Recollection

“I also told you all it was something I had to do. It’s Christmas related,” I remind him. “I’ll be back up here in two hours.”

My breath stutters in my throat as he reaches me. I turn my head, averting my eyes from his intense gaze, but he catches my jaw in his fingers, tilting my chin so there is no escaping him.

“Why are you trembling, angel?” he growls and the sound travels through my bones.

Damn! Now I feel sick too.

“I-I’m not,” I stammer.Idiot!

His jaw ticks as he glares at me. He knows I’m hiding something from him. Even if I wasn’t shaking like a leaf in the fall, he would know.

“What are you up to, Jessie?” his already deep voice drops an octave, making a shiver skitter along my spine.

I gasp in a breath and an unexpected tear pricks at my eyes. I so wanted to do this. It was supposed to be a surprise. I imagined their faces when I showed them and how brave they would say I was to finally overcome my phobia of needles.

“I was going to get a tattoo,” I whisper.

His handsome features are pulled into a frown. Relaxing his grip on my jaw, he brushes a single tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “A tattoo? In the basement?”

“Yeah,” I sniff. “Gia is downstairs. Chester let her in for me.”

“Gia?”

“Yeah.” Chester is one of our security detail, and Gia Fenton is the woman who did most of Conor’s and his brothers’ tattoos. Her designs are stunning and she is a true artist. When I spoke to her about the idea I had, she came up with a beautiful, simple design that would take no more than ninety minutes to complete. I figured I could handle that, but my needle phobia has other ideas. “I don’t think I can do it though. And it was going to be so good too.”

I reach into the pocket of my sweater dress and pull out the sketch she made me. Handing it to Conor, I watch as he unfolds the small piece of paper. It’s a simple rose, but the thorns are his and his brother’s names. They wind around the flower, furling into each other until they reach the top where our children’s names, Ella and Finn, are the petals.

“Fuck. It would look incredible on you,” he whispers, looking between me and the paper in his hand.

“It’d beautiful, right?”

“But you hate needles?”

“I know. That’s why it’s just simple black ink. She said the coloring in takes longer. I thought I could…” a sob wells up in my throat.

He places a strong hand on the back of my neck — both calming and possessive. “You want to do this, angel?” he asks as he hands me back my sketch.

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s do it. I’ll be with you every second, okay? I’ll hold your hand, or whatever you need.”

I rest my forehead on his chest and suck in a breath, letting his comforting scent wash over and through me. As though somehow I can take some of his strength and imbibe it into my bones.

“I would never let anyone hurt you,” he says, running his hands over my arms before pressing a soft kiss on the top of my head.

I know that he speaks the truth. My fear of needles is rooted in the fact that I have been stuck with them, drugged and kidnapped more times than any one person should ever have to. I mean most people go through their entire lives without having that happen, right? Not me.

This must be hard for him too. It would be so much easier for him to tell me that I don’t need to do this. He could go and pay Gia for her time and tell her that I’ve changed my mind. Then he and I could curl up on the sofa and watch a Christmas movie. That would be the easy option. Easier for both of us. His instinct is to protect me. But he knows that what I need is for him to push me to be better. Stronger. Faster. No longer afraid. It’s why he and his younger brother almost kill me in the gym four times a week.

“You’ll hold me the whole time?” I whisper.

“Anything you need, angel.”

After Conor toldhis brothers he’d be accompanying me to the basement for a couple of hours, we headed down to his office in the nightclub which makes up the lower floors of this building. Gia is already set up when we walk inside.

“Hey,” she greets me, arching an eyebrow as she sees Conor walk into the room behind me. No doubt wondering why he’s here when I made her promise that this would be our secret.

“I need him to hold my hand,” I explain with a wince, feeling foolish that I’m being such a baby about a needle.

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