instead on Aaron as he carves the letter H into my skin. It hurts like a bitch, I won't lie. It burns through me, and the vibration of the machine makes my hand quiver, like the movement is translating into my bones. It's shaping me, this tattoo, in a way that none of the others have.
I'd thought when I first uttered the word Havoc that I was pressing start on this chapter of my life, that I was turning the page to race toward a cliff-hanger of an ending that I may or may not survive. But no. That was the motherfucking prologue. As I look down and see the letters take shape on my fingers, I know that this is it. This is my new beginning.
I glance over at Oscar, finding him watching me and not the tattoo machine. Hael and Callum are still in the process of dismantling the old car, but I can tell they're listening, too. Oscar thought letting me see that recording of Penelope and the Thing would send me running.
Instead, it's only cemented my desire for vengeance.
“Don't make decisions like that without telling me,” I say quietly, my voice threaded with steel. I keep watching Aaron's fingers as he moves the needle across my knuckles. “Especially ones that involve my life,” I snap off the end of my tongue. I'm not sure if I'm pleased that Vic was willing to go so far to achieve his ends … or pissed off. I could've been shot. If Aaron hadn't taken that bullet for me, I would have been. I could've died.
And Victor Channing was willing to take that risk.
“She has a point,” Hael says, coming over to stand between Vic and the car. “If she's one of us, then she's one of us. If she's not, then … “He shrugs his shoulders and gestures loosely with a grease-covered rag in the direction of my fresh tattoo. “You're going to marry her. Don't you think she has a right to be brought in on everything?”
Callum appears on my other side, tucking his hands into the front pocket of his sleeveless hoodie. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. His smile says it all. He knew about the Kevlar, about the video, and he didn't tell me shit. Because as nice as he is, as friendly as he pretends to be, he’s still the C in Havoc, first and foremost.
“Oh, by the way, we're missing a few parts.” Cal throws his thumb in the direction of the old car. “I know where we can boost what we need though. There's this investment banker that lives in Oak Park that has a fully restored Eldorado. We'll break in there and grab what we need this weekend.”
“I'll go with you,” I add as Vic works his jaw, watching as Aaron starts in on the V portion of my tattoo. It kills Victor to see Aaron do that, carve his letter into my flesh. He hates it. But as per usual, he maintains control of his temper.
“Oh, by we,” Callum starts, smiling as he leans in close to me. In a surprisingly bold move, he nips the edge of my ear and a small gasp escapes me, one that’s impossible to hide. “I actually meant our crew; stealing car parts is most definitely grunt work. We have better things to do.”
I nod, licking my lips as Aaron carves admirably straight lines into my flesh. He might have a lot of tattoos, but tattoo artist he is not. This could easily be his first time doing this. If I had to choose a boy to do my ink though, it’d be Aaron. While Oscar’s lines on Hael’s knuckles are a calligrapher’s wet dream, they don’t have enough … heart.
Aaron’s are pretty good, and they smack of emotion. That’s what I like best.
“You never answered me,” Hael says, his voice dropping low. Victor turns his head to stare at his best friend, and the mood gets tense there for a moment. “As your future wife, what rights does Bernadette have?”
Vic clenches his jaw and looks away, but Aaron doesn’t. His eyes are boring directly into mine.
“All of them,” Vic says, sighing deeply. “Everything. I want her to have everything.” He glances my way, but I can’t turn away from Aaron, not when he’s making me bleed in such a delicious sort of way. My bones hurt, my skin hurts, but the injection of ink into my flesh is like an