Page 59 of Wicked Design
Peaches spoke first to Van Gogh. “You’re from Jupiter Island then, or maybe Star?”
The others chimed in, naming every exclusive isle in this vicinity rather than countries outside the United States.
Van Gogh glanced at Clover for new assistance. She lifted her shoulders. No way could she help this group understand geography.
A young woman who was Amazon tall pushed through the crowd and pointed at his tat. “I want my boyfriend to get one of those. Who did it?”
“V.” Clover spoke with fierce pride. “On himself. By himself.”
“Get out.” Peaches batted her still-intact eyelash at him. “Seriously?”
He hesitated then shrugged. “It’s not that hard.”
“Says you. Didn’t it hurt?”
Uncertainty crossed his features, like he expected her to challenge or laugh at his answer. “Sure. Why?”
“Because I’d faint even thinking about doing that to myself.” Admiration shone in her eyes. “How bad was it? Did you barf?”
“No.” He scratched his neck. “I felt it, of course, since you have to use a needle to get the ink beneath your skin, but not enough to moan or anything, though I did bleed. After a while, you get used to the blood and pain.”
“You’re a real Spartacus, huh? Those dudes in 300 have nothing on you.” Wonder filled her face. She touched his heart image gingerly and stroked his nipple.
His lids fluttered.
Clover frowned.
Peaches let out a breathy sigh. “How long did it take? How’d you do it with your face up there and everything else upside down?”
Van Gogh shook his head. “Excuse me?”
Clover jumped in. “I think she means when you look down at yourself, you’re seeing things from the wrong angle. How’d you manage to get the design right-side up?”
“Oh. Used a mirror.” He glanced tentatively at Peaches, the way he’d been with Clover when he hadn’t been sure about her feelings for him. “Nothing more complicated than that.”
“Are you joking?” Peaches pressed her hand against her ample chest. “No guy I know would be able to do that, not even the brainy ones. Course, that’s all they have, not awesome muscles like yours. You’re something.”
“Yeah?” He smiled, loosening up.
Exactly as he’d done with Clover when she’d praised his designs at the parlor the first day they’d talked. It had taken her nearly a year to find the secret to gain his interest and trust. Peaches had discovered it in four seconds.
“Look at his arms.” The redhead touched both. “You did these bloody things, too?”
“Uh-huh. They’re bullet holes.”
Ms. Amazon sniffed derisively. “Impossible.”
His caution returned, eyes narrowed. “I think I know what I inked on myself, Miss…”
“They call me Trinity.”
She spoke like she was a secret agent or something. Clover held back a groan.
Van Gogh pushed out his arms. “If you look closely, Trinity, you’ll see they are bullet holes.”
Several others edged nearer, checking them out.
Trinity brushed back her platinum hair. “That’s not what I meant. They look like mirror images. If you’re right-handed, you would have screwed up that arm. If you’re left-handed, the same goes for that one. Don’t tell me that’s not true.”
