“Is Chains okay?” I blurted out, not thinking for a second that I was interrupting.
“He’s fine, babe. Jasmine had the baby last night,” Sabre explained.
A huge grin spread over my face that my new friend finally had her baby. Then I scowled. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
Sabre cocked a brow as he pointedly stared at me.
“Oh. Yeah.” We’d definitely been preoccupied. My cheeks burned when I saw Venom and Blade trying not to let their smiles show. Holy shit, the walls must be super thin.
“In answer to what we were initially discussing,” Venom started as he gave me a look that said he was noting that I’d interrupted. “I figured it was coming soon. Make sure she knows the details before you have Chains start. That’s only fair—the rest is tradition.”
“Roger that.” Sabre gave Venom a chin lift, and Venom went back to his workout. When we walked to the door, Blade called out a warning to me.
“Don’t hurt him.”
“What?” I glanced over my shoulder, but he was spotting Venom and not paying us any attention. I followed Sabre out the door. “What did he mean by that?”
“By what?” Sabre glanced my way as he practically dragged me to the stairs.
Trying to keep up, I practically had to run so he didn’t drag me. Up the stairs we went and around the corner. He kept up his pace until he reached his room and slowed down to open the door.
“Blade.”
“Blade didn’t say anything—you mean Venom,” he corrected, but I frowned in confusion. I knew Blade had told me not to hurt Sabre. It definitely wasn’t Venom’s voice. I shook it off, figuring Sabre must not have heard him.
“Well, yeah, I heard what he said, but I thought Blade called out to me as we left. No biggie.” I waved it off as unimportant. After all, there was no way I’d do anything to hurt Sabre.
“Chains is our tattoo artist,” he said, changing the subject.
I deadpan stared at him. “Really. I had no idea.”
He snorted a laugh as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulled me between his knees, and held my hips. I set my hands on his shoulders for balance. “That’s not what I meant. What I meant, and what I was supposed to explain to you, is that if you become my ol’ lady, it’s protocol that you wear my mark.”
“Your mark?” I was so confused.
He bit his lip in an endearing way as he seemed preoccupied with my waist. It made him seem so boyish. When he lifted his light gray gaze, it seemed to flicker with silver and black flecks before it settled. “You get a tattoo.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“How serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“Sabre, I don’t have any tattoos. They hurt! I watched Chains work on one the other day!” I was shaking my head through my declaration.
“Chains is good at what he does. Yes, it will be uncomfortable, but it will be over quickly.”
“What and where do I have to get tattooed?” I demanded with a distrusting chin lift.
“That’s the tradition part. I get to the choose the design and the location.”
“Uh-uh, no way.”
“It’s about trust, baby. Do you trust me?”
I thought about it as I traced his features with my eyes. For people who didn’t know us or the history he believed we had, we might seem to be rushing. They may think we had lost our minds. They may say we’ll never last.