Page 83 of Inked Daddies

I snap off my gloves, dropping them into a nearby trash bin. My arms tremble from the adrenaline and tension. “Do us all a favor and stop jumping in front of bullets.”

34

MARIE

Trick yanksme into a sudden kiss, his mouth capturing mine with the raw excitement of victory and adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He barely seems to notice his freshly bandaged leg—courtesy of Hugo’s impromptu kitchen-table surgery. The tang of blood and antiseptic hangs in the air. Not the most romantic scent in the world, but I hardly care.

He’s going to live.

For a split second, I let myself melt into Trick’s arms. My heart lifts, and I taste the salt on his lips. Relief floods me—we survived. All of us. But then a harsh cough breaks through the moment.

Dad stands a few steps away, arms folded tight across his chest. His glare could cut right through me. “You’ve got some nerve kissing my daughter under my roof.”

Trick slowly releases me, blinking with a mild, dopey grin. “Sorry, Preacher,” he says, though he doesn’t look particularly sorry. “Just got caught up in the…moment.”

“That’s not the only thing you’re caught up in.”

A nervous jolt flickers through my stomach. All four of us—Sam, Hugo, Trick, and I—knew we’d have to face this reckoning sooner or later. It seems “later” just got here.

I clear my throat, stepping forward. “Dad, I can explain.”

He levels me with a stare. “Then do it.”

The silence stretches tight. I glance at Trick, who shrugs apologetically, as though he’s only just realized how this must look to Dad. Sam stands off to the side, arms crossed. I know him well enough to see the tension tightening his jaw, even if his face doesn’t show much. Hugo lingers near the makeshift surgical setup, calm as ever as he cleans and packs his medical kit, though his dark eyes glance between me and Dad.

They’re letting me do the talking, which is both good and bad. “Uh, well?—”

My father exhales sharply, turning his glare from Trick to me. “So…this is the thing I’ve been hearing about in town? What you told me before? It’s true—you’re all…what,together?” His voice cracks on the last word, as if he can’t stomach the thought.

“Yes,” I say quietly, pulse pounding. “We’re together. I care about them. They care about me. We?—”

He cuts me off with a raised hand. “Don’t you dare say it’s love, Marie Eleanor. I know these men. They share everything. You’re my daughter, and I won’t stand by while they add you to their list of conquests. And I promise you, that’s all you’ll ever be to them. So don’t you dare say a thing about love.”

Hugo turns to my father with measured calm. “Preacher, we respect your concern. Truly. But none of us think of Marie asanything less than our partner. We’d never do anything to hurt her. This is not like those other times. This is something real.”

Dad’s jaw tightens. “I’m supposed to believe that? You boys always follow Sam’s lead. I doubt evenhe”—he points at Sam, eyes flashing with anger—“has thought through what this will do to Marie’s reputation. Much less her future. You’re all ex-military tattoo artists. What kind of future can you give her?”

Sam doesn’t so much as flinch at Dad’s accusations. “We don’t share the details of our past lightly, but we told Marie. We’re not in that life anymore, and we’re not dragging her into anything dangerous.” He hesitates, like he’s weighing every syllable, then adds firmly, “We’re established businessmen of Auclair. We’re not running off in the night to parts unknown to perform military coups or to rescue princes or to guard communications towers or eliminate eighth-world hostiles. She’s our priority.”

“Eighth-world?” I ask. Everything he just said stuck out to me, but I’ve never heard that term before.

He turns to me and casually says, “Aliens.” Then he turns to Dad. “Our lives are different now?—”

“I’m sorry, I think I might be losing my mind,” I cut in. “Did you just sayaliens?”

“Don’t think you were supposed to mention that one,” Trick teases.

Sam blinks. Not the way a normal person does. In the way that someone who knows they just fucked up blinks. “You know—illegal aliens. Hostile ones, in this case.”

Trick snorts. “Smooth. I’m sure she’ll buy that.”

“The point is,” Sam growls, returning to the topic at hand, “Marie is our mission now. Now and forever, if she’ll have us.”

Aliens are real…huh. Well, that makes a lot of sense.

Wait, what did he just say about forever?

I hardly know where to start.

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