by Lilly Atlas
Acer trailed the group out of the chapel and over to the bar, where the four women giggled. Each lady had a sly smile for their man. Striker was right, something was up their non-existent sleeves.
“And what is that?” Hook asked, pointing to Marcie’s hand.
Each woman held a small bag overflowing with different colored tissue paper.
Marcie hopped off her barstool and swung the bag in front of Hook’s eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He made a quick grab for the bag and Marcie yelped. She stashed it behind her and backed up. “Now, Hook. It will be better as a surprise.”
He advanced on his grinning wife. She yelped again when her back hit the bar, then turned and bolted toward the door. Hook laughed and jogged after her. “You better hope I don’t catch you,” he called out as he chased her.
The women said their goodbyes and Acer nodded at each of his brothers before turning his attention to Fia. He bent down and kissed her until she moaned softly. “Thanks for waiting for me.”
She bobbed her eyebrows. “It was no problem. The girls and I had our own meeting.”
“So, where’s your little bag?”
“At home.”
He wasn’t buying her sweet and innocent act for a dollar. He recognized the logo for her company on the bags. Something naughty was in each of those little packages. “Well then, maybe that’s where we should be.”
She hopped off the stool and strolled past him, her fingertips grazing low across his abdomen as she passed. He groaned as his dick came to life.
“You coming?”
“Right after we get home.”
She blew him a kiss. “Love you,” she mouthed.
“Fuckin’ love you too, Fia. You know this makes you my ol’ lady, right?”
She walked toward the exit, a little extra sway in her hips. When she reached the door, she looked over her shoulder and winked.
Damn, he was one lucky bastard.
Epilogue
“How you holding up, honey?” The tall tattoo artist with the bushy beard and four facial piercings didn’t shift focus from his work, but he somehow seemed aware of every reaction she had.
Acer let out a harsh breath from the chair next to her and Fia couldn’t hold back the laugh.
“Uh uh, don’t move.” The gruff voice held a no-nonsense tone.
“Sorry, Crank.” Every time the tattoo artist called her honey—which was pretty much every time he addressed her—and every time he moved the needle too close to her breast, Acer let out a little growl. After hours of listening to it, she couldn’t keep the laughter at bay any longer.
The buzzing quieted and Crank rose to his full height, which rivaled Jester’s six-foot-five. “Seriously, Acer? I’ve got a needle in her skin, and my rep on the line. I ain’t about to hop on this table and show her where my real talent lies.” He winked at Fia. “At least not until I’m done with this masterpiece.”
Acer practically snarled and this time it wasn’t a chuckle that bubbled out, but full-blown hilarity. Jealous Acer was a sight to behold.
“Fuck you,” Acer turned his middle finger up to Crank.
Crank stowed his tattoo gun and held out a hand to Fia. She grasped it, allowing him to assist her to a full sitting position, ignoring Acer’s frown of disapproval. The man was a professional, for crying out loud. Not to mention she found his tattooed scalp and perpetual scowl more than intimidating.
“Check it out in the mirror, then I’ll grease you up and review the aftercare one more time.”
A flutter of excitement coursed through her as she essentially skipped to the mirror.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gazed at what would be permanently showcased on her body. A gorgeous sunrise rose over the ribs on the right side of her body. Vivid swirls of pinks, oranges, and yellows morphed into a stunning palette.
“Oh my God.” Tears filled her eye and her hand flew to her mouth.
Crank was a genius. An absolute genius.
He’d been reluctant to tattoo directly over a few of the scars since they were rounded and raised. The ink had a high chance of bleeding. Instead, he’d planned to weave the pink scars into the image with a promise that the marks would disappear into the design.
She couldn’t deny her skepticism. In her mind, she envisioned a sunrise tattoo with seven pink circles making it look like a child’s connect-the-dots game.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
Crank coordinated the colors so perfectly, even she couldn’t discern the pink scars from the pink in morning sky, and she knew the exact shape and placement of each burn. The finished product was so much more than she’d allowed herself to hope for.
This tattoo was the final rung on the tall ladder of recovery. It was a long, hard, and slippery climb, but she’d triumphed. The physical reminder on her skin had been replaced with an image of strength and splendor. Now she viewed her life like the rising sun, a cheerful dawn of new beginnings full of beautiful possibilities and wonder.
She owed it all to Acer.
~ ~ ~ ~
Acer stood about three feet behind the woman he loved, letting her have a private moment to absorb the impact of Crank’s spectacular work. She was bound to have an emotional reaction after months of worry over those marks. Despite how much progress Fia made, those scars still bothered her.
He shifted his focus to the tattoo artist and sent the man a nod of thanks. Crank winked and resumed his task of cleaning the station. He’d been at this long enough to appreciate the significance of this tattoo for both Fia and Acer.
When he returned his gaze to the mirror, he locked eyes with Fia. A luminous smile and glossy sheen of tears met his stare. With two extended steps, he closed the gap and wrapped his arms around her from behind, careful not to disturb the fresh ink.
“What do you think?” Her voice was low and choked up with emotion.
“I think it’s stunning. But then I think everything about you is stunning.”
She smiled and crossed her arms over his where they lay against her chest and lower stomach.
Acer pressed a kiss to her temple. “The sunrise is incredible, but the quote is my favorite part.” Written in a scrolling script under the glorious sunrise were the words, Through darkness comes light, through fear comes love, and through pain comes triumph.
It was the perfect axiom for what Fia had been through. She’d taken an experience so full of darkness and despair, and emerged victorious and even stronger than she’d been.
Fia spun in his arms, and while he wanted nothing more than to crush her against his body, he controlled himself for the sake of the brand-new ink.
“Thank you,” she said as a tear slipped down her cheek.
He shook his head and swiped a thumb across her cheek, catching the tear. He’d held her through more than one crying jag or anxiety attack, but it had been weeks since she shed tears or felt any true panic. Each tear was a knife to his heart. “Don’t, baby. You never have to thank me for anything. You’ve given me as much, or more than I’ve given you.”
She smiled up at him. “Not possible, but I love you for saying that.”
“Love you too, babe. How about you let Crank bandage that up so I can take you home and show you just how sexy that ink is.”
Her pupils dilated her breathing hitched. Damn, there was nothing that made a man feel higher than a woman who responded like Fia did to him.
His dick stiffened and Fia smirked. “Hey, Crank? Let’s get this show on the road. Acer’s developing a little problem.”
“Ain’t nothing little about my problem,” he rumbled against her ear as he pressed his problem into her soft stomach.
She chuckled and kissed him hard on the lips before spinning around and walking back to Crank’s station. She looked over her shoulder and winked. “Hold that thought.”
Acer stood back and watched his woman as Crank applied salve to her tattoo and bandaged the fresh ink. After a moment, she
was back in his arms and Crank disappeared into his office.
She looked up at him with watery eyes. “I don’t know if I’ve ever said thank you.” She squeezed tight around his waist. “But I want you to know—” Her voice cracked “—that I’m not just better because of time.”
For twenty years, Acer kept his heart hard as a cinder block. Now, since Fia, he felt a strong, burning love that powered him through each day. Her words were unnecessary, but he loved her all the more for her ability to make him feel ten feet tall.
“I haven’t moved on because Mike is gone, or because my scars are covered. There is only one reason that I’m happy and healed. And that reason is you. All you. You supported me, held me while I cried, were patient with me, gave me strength and confidence. You made me feel desirable, and made me want again.” She sniffed as a tear leaked from her eyes. “I just love you. So much, it’s almost scary.”
He sealed his mouth over hers in a tender kiss. “You don’t need to thank me for anything, baby,” he said when he pulled away. “I love you just as fuckin’ fierce. Now let’s go home so I can show you properly. Otherwise, Crank is likely to get a show he’ll never forget.”
She laughed, the sound music to his ears. He’d never forget what she went through, but the memories faded into the distance with each passing day. Now, they both looked to the future and let the past lie where it lay.
Look for Hook and Marcie’s story in a No Prisoners Novella
Spring 2017
Thank you so much for spending some time in the No Prisoners’ world. If you enjoyed the book please feel free to leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads.
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About the Author
Lilly Atlas is a contemporary romance author. She’s a proud Navy wife and mother of two spunky girls. Every time Lilly downloads a new eBook she expects her Kindle App to tell her it’s exhausted and overworked, and to beg for some rest. Thankfully that hasn’t happened yet so she can often be found absorbed in a good book.
