Beneath the Truth

by Meghan March

  Sitting in that hospital waiting room, not knowing whether Ari would make it through surgery, everything had become crystal clear. I would have done anything, given everything, to guarantee she’d come back to me. And maybe there was a certain kind of honor in that—the willingness to do whatever it took to protect the people you loved.

  I would lie, cheat, and kill if it meant protecting Ari or any one of the people in this room, and I wouldn’t lose a minute of sleep at night because of it.

  “So, who wants to play a game?”

  The entire room filled with groans at Vanessa’s question.

  “I thought you said no games?” Ari asked.

  “Hey, y’all pipe down. This is a good one. The ladies are going to come up with an idea for a tattoo to grace your significant other’s body . . . and then Con, Bishop, and Delilah are going to draw them up for you and ink them all this week.” She paused. “But there’s a catch—you’re getting a matching tattoo, except for the girls who are knocked up. You get a rain check. No backing out. No pussy shit. Who’s in?”

  Everyone looked at Vanessa and then at their partner before voicing their agreement. Ari’s okay had been quiet.

  “You don’t have to, Red. You might be the only person in this room without ink, and no one’s going to push you into it.”

  Her gaze swept up to meet mine. “Oh, hell no. I’m doing it. But the pressure’s on. I have to make this perfect.”

  I could practically hear the gears turning in her brain as her focus turned inward.

  Never before would I have thought watching a woman think could be so damn sexy, but that was another way Ari changed everything. She was the exception to every rule, and she was mine.

  A glance around the room revealed gleeful smiles and contemplative looks. This was going to be an interesting week at Voodoo Ink, to say the least.

  Vanessa came around with sketch pads and pencils, and Ari accepted one with another glance at me. She grinned and began to draw.

  * * *

  Simon

  Voodoo Ink, later that week

  It had been a while since I’d sat in this chair, and all I could think about was how much my life had changed since the first night I’d walked in. Charlie’s aqua eyes had slayed me then, and now I see them every time I look at our daughter. We’ve had plenty of challenges over the years, but together we’ve grown stronger as we’ve overcome each one.

  “You going to show me before they do the transfer?” I asked, wondering what my former notorious runaway had thought up to be inked on us both, although hers would be put off a few months because she was breastfeeding.

  With a smile, Charlie turned around the sketch pad to show me the design she and Delilah had created. The corners of my mouth tugged up.

  It was a red-and-black Mardi Gras mask, and the significance hit me immediately. It was a replica of the one she’d worn the night her true identity had been revealed, the night that had changed everything for us. Charlie faced her past, and together we’d fought for this incredible future. I looked closer at the drawing to find there were two dates along the bottom edge—our wedding day and the day Honor was born. Two of the most important dates of my life.

  I threaded my fingers through Charlie’s, tugging her close to steal a kiss. “I love it.”

  She pressed her forehead to mine and trailed her fingertips down my cheek. “I’m so glad. Thank you for never giving up on me.”

  I made her a solemn promise. “Never. I will never give up on us. I love you, Charlie.”

  “I love you too.”

  * * *

  Con

  A few hours later

  “All right, princess, whatcha got for me?”

  I waited for Vanessa to finally show me the design she and Bishop had worked on. I was already covered, so I was curious to see where this piece would even fit. But since this was Vanessa’s idea, one she didn’t run by me, I might add, I was going through with it. She was too, before we left the shop today.

  “You sure you’re ready?”

  “Lay it on me.”

  She flipped the sketch pad around and showed me a pair of boxing gloves drawn in the traditional style with the words Fight for Love written around them. Instead of an emblem on the back, they had a fleur-de-lis matching the one I’d tattooed on Vanessa in this very same chair.

  I met her gaze as she held her breath, waiting for me to say something. Anything. She was crazy if she thought there was a chance in hell I wouldn’t like it.

  Her impatience took over. “So? What do you think?”

  I reached out and grabbed the sketchbook before sliding a hand around the back of her neck and dragging her down for a kiss. “I fucking love it. You killed it. Now, where is it gonna fit?”

  Vanessa pulled back and studied me. “I was thinking hip. You’ve got just enough room left down there, don’t you think?”

  “If you want me to take my pants off, princess, all you have to do is ask.” I winked at her.

  Vanessa’s laugh filled the room. “What are you talking about? I barely even have to do that.”

  Once her laughter died down, I threaded my fingers through hers and tugged her close again. “You know I’ll fight for you every day. I’ll never stop fighting to be the man you need me to be.”

  Her eyes turned shiny. “You’re already exactly the man I need. You challenge me, push me, and dare me to take more from life than I ever thought possible. You were the wild card. The one thing I never planned on. And you’re the best thing to ever happen to me. I love you, Constantine.”

  I hauled her into my lap and covered her mouth with mine. In between showing her exactly how I felt, I told her.

  “Fucking love you, princess. Always.”

  * * *

  Lord

  A few hours later

  Elle had a surprise for me, but I had one for her too. Con left us alone for the unveiling, and I couldn’t wait to see what she’d come up with.

  “You going to keep me in suspense?”

  She shook her head. “You know I suck at surprises.”

  It was true. She did. Too impulsive to keep a secret to save her life. She flipped the sketch pad around and there it was, like she’d snatched the image right out of my brain.

  A chain, links shattered at the ends, but more and more solid as they came together in the middle. The part I hadn’t imagined? A small pocket watch in the middle.

  “What time is that set to?”

  Elle smiled. “The time I started my job interview.”

  I huffed out a chuckle. “You mean the time you came into Chains and demanded I hire you?”

  “Call it whatever you want. Perfect timing. Me saving your ass. Fate. The time you changed my life.” She shrugged with a grin.

  “Let’s go with the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “That works for me.” She studied my face. “So, do you like it?”

  I nodded and reached into my pocket. “I love it. But not nearly as much as I love you.”

  I dropped to one knee on the floor of my brother’s tattoo shop, and Elle’s mouth fell open.

  “Oh my God.” Her eyes went wide and filled with tears. “Are you—”

  “If you’ll let me talk, you’ll find out.”

  Her lips snapped shut.

  “You blew into my life like a hurricane, and I’ve never been so caught off guard. You’re not just my better half, you’re my partner in everything I do. You make this life an adventure, and I can’t wait to wake up every morning to see where it’s going to take us next.”

  Tears slid down her cheeks as she smiled down at me, so I figured I was doing this right.

  “Eleanor Marietta Snyder, will you marry me?”

  Elle dropped to her knees in front of me. “Only if you promise that you’ll never say my full name ever again,” she said with a laugh. She flung her arms around my neck, and I wrapped mine around her, squeezing tight.

  “I can promise that.” After all, once we
said our vows, she’d be Eleanor Marietta Robichaux, and I’d say it whenever I wanted.

  She lifted her teary face to mine. “Yes. My answer is hell yes.”

  A champagne cork popped outside the room, but I didn’t need alcohol because Elle’s answer already had me buzzing.

  I wondered what she’d say when I told her we were getting married next week. I wasn’t waiting any longer to make her officially mine.

  * * *

  Lucas

  The next day

  “You sure you want to do this?” I asked as Yve and I walked into Voodoo Ink. She had a sketch pad from the baby shower under her arm, and she’d refused to show me what she’d worked on with Con.

  The man who’d once been my rival was now one of my best friends. Two years ago, if someone had told me I would be walking into his tattoo shop with my wife to get matching tattoos, I would have laughed them out of the room for being insane.

  Apparently, life had different plans, and there was nothing I would change because it all led me here, to this moment with this woman.

  Yve raised an eyebrow at me. “Of course I’m sure. Although I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to keep myself from attacking you once you’ve been inked.”

  This time my eyebrows rose. “Is that right? What exactly am I getting tattooed on me anyway?”

  She flipped open the cover of the sketch pad and turned it so I could see.

  The meaning hit me like an avalanche, which was appropriate considering I was staring at a mountain range. She knew what this meant to me. How it had haunted me until I’d finally granted myself absolution. When I met her eyes, she rushed to explain.

  “We’ve both conquered our demons, even when they seemed insurmountable. I think we need to celebrate that instead of pretending they didn’t exist. Mine brought me to you. Yours made you into the man I love. There’s nothing to hide.”

  She was right. But then again, my wife was always right. I had the superior taste it took to choose such an amazing woman—and she’d knock that arrogance back down my throat every time she felt it was necessary.

  I nodded. “So, where is this going?”

  “I was thinking your forearm, so when you roll up your sleeves in your meetings . . . delicious.” She punctuated her statement with an mmm.

  “It sounds like we’ll be having more meetings at home then.”

  “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  “Where are you putting it?” I asked, and I read the hesitation in her expression as her lips pressed together. “What?”

  She bit her lip before finally speaking. “I’m going to have to take a rain check for a little while.”

  My gaze sharpened on her. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  The words hit me harder than the meaning of the tattoo, nearly taking me out at the knees. I stumbled backward into a chair in the empty waiting room, glad that asshole Leahy wasn’t out here to see.

  I looked at Yve, her face the picture of anxiety. “You’re pregnant.”

  She nodded, even though it wasn’t a question.

  “When?” I meant when had she found out, but coherent questions were beyond me.

  “My doctor confirmed yesterday. I’m eight weeks along.”

  I shoved out of the chair and swept her into my arms. “Just when I think you’ve given me enough to keep me happy forever, you shock the hell out of me with something I never even dreamed about.”

  Yve whispered in my ear. “You’re going to be a daddy, and I can’t wait.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm me. “I promise I’ll never be anything like my father. Our son or daughter will never—”

  Yve pressed a finger over my lips and her whiskey-colored eyes were serious when they met mine. “I know. You’re going to be an amazing father. You’ll never let yourself be anything else.”

  I wrapped my arms around her and gripped her tight. My whole life was in my arms, and it was a glorious one.

  “We putting some ink on this asshole today, or what?” Con asked as he walked into the lobby.

  “Fuck off, Leahy. We’re busy.”

  Yve giggled.

  Somehow, Con knew something monumental was happening in that moment, and he backed off. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

  When he disappeared, I stared into Yve’s eyes. “I love you. With everything I have, and everything I am, I love you.”

  “I know. I love you, Lucas.”

  We held each other for long minutes in the lobby of Voodoo Ink as I thanked God for letting a bastard like me find his happily-ever-after.

  * * *

  Rix

  “Let’s see it, duchess. What do you want inked on me?”

  Valentina, soon to be mother of my son, handed me a sketch pad, and I stared down at the drawing on the page. Simple. Strong. Perfect.

  “It’s a coronet. Fit for a duke and duchess.”

  “I’m not the one who should be royalty here, though,” I told her.

  She shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’re the best man I’ve ever known, even when I thought you were . . . someone else.”

  I knew what she was talking about, and hearing those words meant a lot. My woman was the daughter of a judge and had been half dating a cop, but she’d fallen for a man she thought was a criminal. If taking that risk wasn’t a sign of true love, I didn’t know what was. It had killed me not to tell her the truth, but I would protect her at my own expense every time.

  And now she was giving me the greatest gift ever—our baby. A family of my own. Something I’d never had.

  “You probably deserve better, but damned if I’m ever letting you go to look for it.”

  Valentina met my gaze. “How could I deserve better when I already have the best? I love you, Beauregard Hendrix, and don’t you dare ever question me on that.”

  I looped an arm around her waist and pulled her toward where I sat on the chair so I could whisper to her belly. “Mama’s fierce, and that makes us the luckiest men in the world.” I glanced up at her. “And we’ll never forget it either.”

  Her lips curled up into a beautiful smile. “It goes both ways.”

  “Then bring on the ink. I’m ready. Ready for every damn thing.”

  * * *

  Bishop

  All week, we’d had friends in here cementing their bonds with ink, and something about it struck me as poetic, not that I was a romantic kind of guy.

  I’d been waiting my turn. Delilah had volunteered to help Eden with the drawing, and I couldn’t wait to see what she’d come up with. Like Con, I was starting to run out of real estate, but I was determined to make whatever mark Eden wanted to put on me fit in perfectly. I trusted my sister’s hand, and I knew it would.

  Eden wasn’t getting hers done for quite some time because she was carrying our little boy or girl. We’d decided not to find out because we were both rebels like that. We also hadn’t told her father yet, and I expected the mob boss would have something to say when he found out. Not that it mattered much because Eden was mine and that wasn’t changing.

  When our turn rolled around, I sat in the chair where I usually worked on clients, and Eden handed me a sketch pad.

  “What do you think?”

  It took me a minute to realize what I was looking at. The New York City skyline. I jerked my gaze up to meet hers.

  “I know what you’re going to say—that we both have bad memories tied up with New York, but it made you who you are. It made me who I am. I’m incredibly grateful for that, and I want to celebrate it, not hide it. But if you hate it, we don’t have to go through with it.”

  I dropped my attention back to the sketch pad for a few moments and wrestled with the image.

  New York was the scene of my biggest failure, but also my greatest triumph. Indisputably, it was a city that would always hold intense meaning for us both. She was right. It wasn’t something I needed to hide anymo
re. Eden knew everything, and because of it, I’d gotten her. It was a fair trade.

  I cleared my throat. “I think it’ll fit in the open spot on my rib.”

  “You’re sure?”

  I met her eyes again. “As sure as I am that I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you. You changed everything, Eden. I love you.”

  A tear slid down her cheek. “Stupid hormones,” she said, snuffling. “I love you too. And as soon as I can, I’m getting it tattooed on me.”

  I pulled her close and placed a hand on her small belly. “We’ve got more important things to worry about before that.”

  She laughed. “Like how I’m going to tell my dad . . .”

  “Maybe it’s time for a trip home.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Are you serious?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, no more demons in New York.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

  * * *

  Rhett

  Ari had been quiet for days, and I knew it had to do with the tattoo situation. She was a perfectionist, and with something this permanent, she’d need a lot more time to process and consider.

  I was in the chair while Con was working on the transfers, and the suspense finally got to me. “Are you going to tell me or make me wait until after it’s done?”

  Ari bit her lip nervously. “If you think it’s stupid, we can do something different.”

  “Come on, Red. You know if you thought of it, I’m not going to think it’s stupid.”

  She nodded and handed me a folded piece of paper. I peeled it open and stared at the single line of ones and zeros. For some reason, with Ari’s brain, I’d expected something complicated and intricate, but this I couldn’t interpret.

  “What is it?”

  “Love.”

  That’s when it hit me—the ones and zeroes were binary code.