Page 70 of The Love You Fight For
The tattoo of Medusa has Sam’s face.
My throat tightens.
“Why Medusa?” I ask, and she glances at me over her shoulder.
“Strength. Protection. What better way to take down dangerous men than with the very monster they created?”
She stares at me for a moment more, then turns away. When she speaks again, I can hear the vengeance in her voice, and I bet her eyes are burning with rage.
“If I could turn them all to stone, I would.”
We’re quiet for a moment, and I trail my fingers over the tattoo once more.
“You’re the picture of deception, you know that?” I say finally. “Polished, classy, refined. But underneath the gold jewelry and designer labels and high society manners, you’re all fire and retribution. Like Nemesis. Like an avenging angel.”
She shakes her head with a sigh.
“I’m hardly an angel, Chris.”
I move on the bed so I’m facing her, taking in every one of her features as I speak.
“I don’t know, princess. I’m not religious, but I think you’re divinely made.” I trail my knuckles down her cheek, then give her a teasing grin. “A face that could launch a thousand ships, anyway.”
She rolls her eyes with a laugh.
“So I’m Helen of Troy now?”
I shrug.
“I would go to war for you.”
The statement is said lightheartedly, almost jokingly, but something about it makes her wince, and the playfulness that was there before vanishes in a breath.
“I fight my own battles.” She stands, gathers some clothes from her suitcase, and disappears out the door.
A minute later, the shower in the bathroom kicks on.
I lie back on the pillow and stare at the ceiling, not wanting to believe what my mind has put together, but the more I think it over, the more certain I am.
Sam didn’t just tattoo Medusa from Greek Mythology onto her back. She tattooed a portrait of herself as Medusa, and I’ve read enough of Greek Mythology to know the story of Medusa.
Medusa was a mortal woman who was violated by a god and then punished for her pain. A victim who was made into a monster.
The very monster they created,Sam had said.
What better way to take down dangerous men...
I breathe slowly and deeply to calm the rising anger in my chest. The protective feeling swirling in my stomach.
That tattoo is more than just a tattoo. It’s a symbol. It’s a purpose.
And all I can think is, who hurt my princess and what is she planning to do to them?
EIGHTEEN
As soon asthe shower kicks on, I sink to the ground and drop my head into my hands.
I would go to war for you.
