Page 160 of Desperate People

I settle into the chair again, gripping a stress ball Leanna hands me.

The buzz of the machine fills the room, and for the first time in weeks, I feel like I’m not just surviving.

I’m healing.

And Balor?

Yeah, he’s going to freak.

But he’ll understand.

Because beneath all that gruff possessiveness, he knows exactly who I am.

His.

But mine too.

Ours. Always.

Chapter Forty-Two-Balor

Pacing the waiting room of SOHO INK is not how I planned to spend my day.

But the second my hidden team—yeah, the one I assigned to shadow my wife without her knowing—pinged her location, I was already halfway into my car.

Didn’t even wait for the follow-up text confirming she was fine.

Is it invasive? Yeah.

Do I give a single fuck? Not one.

The guy who owns the shop, Billy Jones, is a big bastard—heavily inked, cool-headed, and thankfully married.

First thing I do is size him up, make sure he’s not the one touching my wife’s skin.

Once I know that it’s his wife, April, who’s handling Lucy’s tattoo personally, I breathe easier. A little.

He clocks me right away. My energy. My obsession.

But he doesn’t judge. He just gestures toward the back office and says, “We got a monitor if you need it. No sound.”

I slide him ten grand in hundreds before he finishes the sentence.

The screen flickers on, grayscale and silent, but what I see?

It drops me to my fucking knees.

Lucy.

Mine.

Shoulder bare. Head tilted slightly as she talks to April. Her cousins hovering nearby, throwing support and sass in equal measure.

But she—she’s focused.

She hands April a sketch. I recognize her drawing style. Just something she likes to do when she thinks no one is looking.

It’s loose and graceful, like her.

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