Chapter 58 – thiago
Fifty-Eight
thiago
Ispot her before she notices me.
The late afternoon sun catches the black paint of her motorcycle as she pulls away from the curb. I smile as I watch her and hang back, letting a few cars separate us before easing onto the gas.
Chasing her has become a game between us, even if she likes to pretend she isn’t playing.
Her head tilts as she checks her mirror. I can’t see her eyes behind the dark visor, but I know the exact moment she spots me. Her shoulders stiffen for the briefest second before relaxing, and then she slips through traffic with a fluidity that borders on reckless.
I’ve watched her ride enough to know better.
There’s a confidence in everything Remi does when she’s in control of a machine, whether she’s in the driver’s seat, beneath the hood, or balanced on two wheels with the city rushing past her. Sometimes I don’t think she realizes how remarkable she is.
Three days ago, I showed up at her apartment falling apart, and she knew exactly what I needed before I did.
I still don’t know what made me go there instead of home.
I only knew that I needed to be with the one person who made me feel like I didn’t have to hold it all together, and that instinct led me straight to her door.
The irony isn’t lost on me. I was sent into Remi’s life to find her weaknesses, and she became mine.
We stop at a red light with her bike idling beside my loaner SUV, and I take the opportunity to shamelessly admire her. With one boot planted on the pavement, she turns toward me, flips up her visor, and winks.
Just like that, she has me grinning like an idiot.
Remi knows exactly what she’s doing. When the light turns green, she shoots off first, and I fall in behind her.
I told her to meet me at Lachlan’s because I wanted her to be the one to give me my first tattoo in three years. What she doesn’t know is that this one means more than any other piece of ink I’ve ever gotten.
My phone lights up with a message from a number I haven’t seen in weeks
Elena: STATUS.
A thousand thoughts crash through my head at once. Is she back? What does she want? What happens now?
It’s been weeks, and the tracking devices are still sitting inside the envelope exactly where I left them, unopened.
I stare at the message until the words begin to blur.
Then I delete it, block the number just for tonight, and set my phone face down on the passenger seat.
Elena can wait. This moment belongs to Remi, and I refuse to let anyone take that away from us.
By the time I pull into the lot, she’s already off her bike, tucking her helmet beneath her arm as she shakes out her hair. I glance at my phone one last time before shoving it into the glove compartment and climbing out.
“Got a little lost back there in my dust, huh?” Remi asks, using the curb to give herself a few extra inches.
It puts her at the perfect height for me to wrap a hand around her throat, pull her against me, and kiss her until she forgets every smart-ass remark she planned to throw my way.
“Come on, get in my chair,” she says, smiling against my lips. “Let me hurt you.”
I bark out a laugh. “I’ll never deny that tattoos hurt, but if anyone’s going to hurt me, I’d rather it be you.”
“That’s what they all say.”
She takes my hand and tugs me toward the side entrance while I follow behind her, still caught on that comment.
“Who’s they?”
“All of them.” The teasing in her voice tells me she’s fucking with me, but that doesn’t stop my mind from conjuring images I don’t particularly enjoy.
The thought of other men fantasizing about my girl has a way of bringing out the worst in me. I avoided the precinct’s website after her mugshot leaked because I wasn’t prepared for the obscene number of vile comments beneath it, many of them from men who lived right here in the city.
An investigation was launched to find whoever leaked the unauthorized photo, but it went nowhere. Whoever did it covered their tracks too well.
I wouldn’t put something like that past Elena or even Grey. I just hate that I can’t prove it.
“You’re making me second-guess this idea, you know that.”
“Too late. No deposit refunds and no special treatment.”
I lean in, brushing my lips against her ear. “I’m probably still leaking out of you as we speak, fera. I think that makes me pretty special.”
Remi shudders against me. “Always so cocky, Officer Braga.”
I grip her chin and bring her eyes to mine. “Oh, I’m Officer Braga again?”
“You’ve still got that badge, don’t you?” she challenges, arching an eyebrow as she takes a step back.
“That’s not the name you were screaming a few hours ago.”
She grins as she continues backing away, silently daring me to follow.
“My memory’s a little hazy.”
I play along until her back meets the wall, then brace my palms on either side of her head, boxing her in exactly where we both know she wants to be. “You’re really trying to test me tonight.”
“Maybe I am.”
I let my gaze travel slowly over her as my hand slides along the inside of her thigh.
“Thiago...” she murmurs, glancing toward the open door.
“Now you want to say my name.” I tighten my hold on her and lift her off the floor. A gasp leaves her as I guide her higher and higher against the wall until her thighs lock around my shoulders, and my hands settle beneath her ass, holding her securely against me.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathes.
“Yeah, that’s better.”
I press a trail of slow kisses along her inner thigh before looking up at her. I know this view too fucking well, and having it while we’re fully dressed feels like a special kind of torture.
“What’s wrong, Braga?” she asks, twisting a fistful of my hair between her fingers.
“Your pretty little cunt is two layers away from my tongue. What do you think?”
“Who says there are two layers?”
Fuck, this game just backfired on me.
But not all is lost. I pull her closer and bite down gently over the fabric between her legs. Her fist clenches in my hair as another gasp slips from her lips. Grinning against her, I slowly guide her back to her feet.
I’ll never get enough of Remi, but Lachlan is just down the hall, and we came here for a reason.
“Time to hurt me, chama,” I say, punctuating the words with a quick kiss.
Like a good client, I settle into the chair and lean back while she gets everything set up. I take the opportunity to look around at some of her work displayed throughout the room. Maybe I’m biased, but fuck me, this woman is insanely talented.
“Ready? If you’re a good boy and there are no tears, you’ll get a lollipop.”
I laugh and tuck an errant platinum strand behind her ear. “I’ll try.”
She flashes me one last brilliant smile before slipping on a pair of black nitrile gloves and giving the stencil a final check as she reaches for the tattoo machine. Its familiar buzz fills the room as she loads the needle with ink.
“So, what do these numbers mean?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re done.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, and she rolls them with a grin. “You know, you’re not as mysterious as you want to seem.”
The machine kisses the side of my neck, and the first pass burns hotter than I remember, vibrating through my jaw and into the base of my skull.
“Oh yeah?”
“Absolutely. You’re a cop, a loner, you know you’re fucking huge and use it to your advantage, and you have questionable vehicle taste.” She side-eyes me. “A Nissan Rogue rental, Thiago? You couldn’t even spring for a Chevy?”
I fight the urge to laugh and keep perfectly still as the machine continues its steady buzz against my skin.
Remi wipes away excess ink, then stretches the area beneath my jaw with her thumb, guiding the needle through another pass.
“Anything else?”
“The most important one.”
“And what’s that?”
I watch her work, fascinated by how easily she can give me shit without losing an ounce of concentration.
I’ve seen that same focus when she’s beneath the hood of a car and behind the wheel.
Her mind might always be moving, but when she loves something, every bit of that energy locks onto the task in front of her.
“You’re completely obsessed with me.”
“I won’t argue with that one.”
Her smile softens, but she never stops working.
“You’re beautiful,” I say, losing myself in her eyes the way I always do.
She shakes her head, fighting a smile.
I wish I could freeze this moment and keep us right here, where Elena can’t reach us and the truth can’t tear apart everything we’ve built. I just need more time to find a way out of this before any of it touches Remi. Then I can give her all of me and love her the way she deserves.
“Done.”
She cleans away the last traces of ink and sets the machine aside. Tilting my chin with two fingers, she studies the numbers from one angle, then another.
“Hold still, Braga.”
Her thumb stretches the skin beneath my jaw again as she inspects one final line. Once she’s satisfied, she smooths a thin layer of ointment over the fresh tattoo and presses a clear bandage over it.
“There.” Her fingertips linger against my neck for a moment before she steps back. “Okay. Now you can look.”
I lift the mirror and stare at the number that marks the day everything changed between us. The day we crossed a line neither of us ever wanted to come back from.
Now it’s a part of me, permanently etched into my skin.
“Perfect.”
“So...” She sets the ointment aside. “Are you going to tell me what it means now?”
I set the mirror on the tray and reach into my pocket for the piece of paper I brought. When I hand it to her, she gives me a curious look as she unfolds it.
Her brow furrows when her mugshot comes into view.
Taking it from her trembling hands, I lower it to my lap, drawing her closer until she’s standing between my knees.
“My mugshot number is on your neck.”
“I wanted a reminder.”
“Of what?” she asks breathily.
“The best thing that ever happened to me.”
She glances from the photograph to the fresh tattoo, and I watch understanding slowly give way to disbelief.
“You really did this.”
“I really did.”
Her fingers rise toward my neck but stop just short of the bandage. “This is permanent, Thiago.”
“That was the idea.”
She lets out a shaky laugh as tears begin gathering in her eyes. “You took the number from my fucking mugshot and tattooed it on your body.”
“Technically, you did. And when you say it like that, it sounds a little unhinged.”
“A little?” She shakes her head at me. “This might be the craziest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
I smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You shouldn’t.”
She’s smiling when the first tear rolls down her cheek. I wipe it away with my thumb, and her attention returns to the photograph resting in my lap. Picking it up, she runs a finger along the edge.
“I hated this picture for a while,” she admits. “Not because I was ashamed, but because everyone else got to take it and turn it into whatever they wanted. People who didn’t know me looked at one picture and decided who I was.”
I know. I read enough of their comments to want to hunt down half the fucking city.
“But you...” Her attention returns to my neck. “You look at it and think of us.”
“Every fucking time.”
She wipes beneath her eye and gives a watery laugh. “God, I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I really fucking don’t.” She cups my face and kisses me. There’s none of our usual teasing as her mouth moves slowly against mine and her hands cradle my face. When she pulls away, she stays close, resting her forehead against mine.
“That night was a mess,” she whispers. “My arrest. That picture. Everything that came after.”
“I know.”
“But you were the one good thing in the middle of it.”
I want so badly to deserve that.
She glances at the tattoo once more and shakes her head with another disbelieving laugh. “You’re going to have my mugshot number on your neck when you’re eighty.”
“Hopefully, you’ll still be around to explain it to people.”
Her laughter fades, and for a second, I wonder if I went too far. But then she climbs onto my lap and wraps her arms around my shoulders, careful to avoid the fresh ink.
“I better be.”
Those three simple words leave me without a damn thing to say.
I squeeze her, and she buries her face against me, holding me so close that I feel each breath she takes.
“You should have told me,” she murmurs after a while. “I would’ve tried to talk you out of it.”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t.”
“What if you wake up tomorrow and regret it?”
I slide my hand along the side of her neck. “A lot of things can happen tomorrow, chama, but regretting this won’t be one of them.”
She searches my face for any sign that I don’t mean it. She won’t find one.
“There’s one more thing.”
“Look, my juvie records are sealed. No more mugshots for you.”
I laugh. “That’s disappointing. I was thinking about starting a collection.”
“You get one, stalker.” Her smile lingers as I run my hand along her back, trying to figure out how to ask for something I’ve spent the last few days convincing myself I’m ready to do.
“I’m flying to Miami.”
“Miami?”
“To visit my father.”
The teasing smile disappears.
“I’ve been thinking about it since that night.
Seeing Athena again and finding out your mom was with him when he died brought back a lot of things I thought I’d made peace with.
” I take a moment before continuing. “For years, I told myself there was no reason to go back. He wasn’t there, and standing over a piece of stone wasn’t going to change anything.
But I think the truth is that I’ve always been afraid to face him. I was never ready.”
I don’t know that I am even now.
Remi rests her hand against my chest. “Thiago, I’m here for whatever you need. You know that.”
I manage a smile. “That’s exactly it. I want you with me.”
“You want me to go with you?”
“Yeah.” I draw her closer. “I haven’t been back since I was a boy, and if I’m going to stand in front of him again after all these years, I don’t want to do it alone.”
She frames my face with her hands. “Then you won’t.”
“I haven't even said when,” I say with a chuckle.
“I don’t care when. Tell me, and I’ll be there.”
I hold her without saying anything, knowing I couldn’t have asked anyone else to do this with me.
“I want him to know about you.”
“Thiago...”
“I know he’s gone, but I still want to stand there and tell him about the woman who's made me happier than I ever thought I’d be.” I draw in a slow breath. “I want to tell him I’m okay.”
Remi blinks away tears as a smile touches her lips. “Then we’ll tell him together.”