Helpless (Steel Demons MC #5) - Crystal Ash Page 0,102

probably feel similarly. So we’re thinking on it first.”

“Congratulations,” he said a bit stiffly. “If you do decide to take it.”

“We’ll see.” I lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “There’s still everyone else that needs homes. And Reaper’s not entirely sure about settling here.” I curled my legs underneath me. “How are you liking Four Corners?”

He shrugged. “I’m fine just about anywhere. I wouldn’t even mind being nomadic. As long as I can ride and see the sky.” His throat worked in a deep swallow.

“I’m sorry you didn’t feel up for joining us out back. I didn’t know cigar smoke bothered you.”

Shadow smiled, a sight as rare as the night-blooming flower he showed me, and just as dazzling to see. “It doesn’t. I was just tired of being around people.”

“Ooh, naughty,” I teased. “The wounded hero of Four Corners dipping out on an invitation from the governor. That takes balls of steel.”

“Unfortunately, mine are still fleshy and vulnerable.”

He said it with such a straight face, the first peal of laughter burst out of me loud enough to wake the entire B&B. I slapped a palm over my mouth, trying in vain to smother the laughs that followed. Shadow’s broad shoulders shook with quiet chuckles as I blinked back tears and tried to compose myself.

“Oh my god,” I panted, wiping the corners of my eyes. “I think you leveled past Jandro with that one.”

“I learned from the best.” He appeared more relaxed now, slouching against the bench, hands no longer fidgeting and his knees wide.

The distance between us was gradually closing, so I took my chances scooting closer until my leg brushed his. His eyes flicked to where our bodies made contact, but he didn’t pull away. When our laughter faded to quietness, I voiced the question that had been on my mind for days.

“Can you tell me about your tattoo?”

He looked puzzled for a moment. “This?” His hand hovered over his chest.

“No, this.” I touched my index finger once to his thigh, then returned my hand to my lap. “I saw it when you were sick.”

“Oh.” He returned his gaze out to the road in front of the B&B, his mind somewhere else. “It was the first one I ever did. I wanted to practice on myself before tattooing anyone else.”

“Are the hieroglyphs upside down so only you can read them?”

“Yes.” Amusement crossed his face as he looked at me. “It’s such a shitty piece of work, I’m surprised you could tell.”

“I mean, it’s clearly roughly done, but it’s not that shitty.”

“I did it in prison,” he shrugged. “I worked with what I had, but since this one, I’ve only gotten better.”

“That is definitely true.” My next question hovered on my tongue, my heart accelerating for some reason. “Will you tell me what it means?” His brow furrowed, that expression making me backtrack immediately. “You don’t have to, of course.”

“You want to know?”

“Sure I do.” I held his gaze, fighting the impulse to push his hair back and kiss that scar again. “I want to know more about you in general.”

He stared at my mouth and I wondered if we held the same train of thought. “It means, the sky is my reason.”

A simple phrase that clearly held so much weight.

“Your reason for what?”

“For living,” he said softly. “When I was confined to my cell, the sky used to feel like another planet, some place far away that I would never reach. I could only see it through a crack in the wall. But seeing it, how the sky changed colors right before nightfall, it gave me a reason to keep waking up again.”

My throat felt uncomfortably tight. “You mean when you were in prison?” I asked.

“No,” he shook his head. “Before that.” He let out a scoff. “Prison was a wonderland compared to that place.”

“Shadow?”

“Yes?”

Our eyes locked and I felt frozen in place while also being thrashed around by a storm. My pulse crashed wildly, every cell in my body crying out to touch him, to give him another reason. There was no turning back from this point, and that both terrified and emboldened me.

“I don’t want to pretend like nothing happened between us.”

His chest lifted with an influx of breath. I remembered the warmth of his skin on my cheek, the gentle rise and fall as I watched him sleep.

“I don’t either.”

We moved toward each other before the words were fully out of his mouth. His arm lifted and I slid over to nestle into his side, my

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