CHAPTER 29 DANNY
We stop in a shop just outside the park to purchase our outfits for the day. It’s against park rules to dress in full costume, but we get as much as we can to disguise our identities.
Alexis grabs a skin-colored t-shirt with a bikini on it along with a skirt that looks like a mermaid tail and a red wig to go as Ariel.
I find a pirate hat with long braids sticking out of it, and when we get back to the car to change into our outfits, I borrow some of Alexis’s eyeliner to really play the part.
We head into the park, disguised but not fully costumed, and Alexis is practically skipping as we make our way down Main Street. We pass through the castle and head right for Peter Pan’s Flight, and we use our fast passes to cut the line so we can fit more rides in.
She squeals as we fly over London and Neverland at night, and we hold hands and laugh as we ride the carousel next.
We scream on the roller coasters, we get dizzy on the tea party ride, and we relax on the cruise.
We hold hands as we walk through the park, and we both feel like every other person here. We’re just here for a magical day of fun, and we’re having it.
We pause the fun for an early dinner, and it’s as we’re getting up from our Mickey ice cream bars that she freezes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She nods over toward where she’s looking, and when I turn in that direction, I spot him.
Brooks.
“Shit,” I mutter. “Come with me.”
We run in the opposite direction toward It’s a Small World, giving us a nice, long ride to hopefully lose them.
“How’d they track us here?” she asks softly. “We didn’t tell anybody.”
“No idea. Gregory’s car, maybe?”
“Maybe,” she murmurs. “Or your mom’s credit card.”
I wrinkle my nose. I bet she’s right. “Do you want to stay or go?”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes are misty as she keeps her voice down so as not to raise suspicion of anyone else sitting on our boat with us. “I wish they’d just leave us alone. We’ll be back tomorrow anyway.”
“I’m sure he’s just looking out for you,” I say gently. “Maybe he wants to get in touch with you before the Christmas Eve performance.”
“Maybe.” She glances up at the little animatronics dancing beside us. “I don’t want to leave, but we probably should.”
“We can come back any time we want, Lex.” I try to offer reassurance, but I know how stupid it sounds.
We have no idea if we can just come back.
Sure, we can put on disguises, and we can act like kids and run around holding hands…but we have no idea what any of this is going to look like after tomorrow.
As far as her father’s concerned, she made a promise to marry Brooks, and who knows how far he’ll go to force her to follow through on that promise.
Either way…I’ll be there.
I have nowhere else to go, and he has no idea that she can’t marry Brooks now since she’s already married.
I blow out a heavy breath. “Then once this ride is done, we head out.”
She nods, but her eyes tell the whole story. She’s sad we have to leave.
I am, too.
“I have an idea,” she says. “Can I look up something on your phone?”
I hand it over to her, and she types something in. “Nice. Less than a five-minute walk.”
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“You’ll see.” She raises a brow and hands my phone back to me.
We stick to the crowds as we walk, carefully keeping watch for Brooks or her dad, and we make it out of the park without being detected.
We follow the sidewalk around and then Alexis looks at the street signs and turns one way.
I hold her hand as if I know where she’s taking me, and a few minutes later, we stop in front of a shop with the words Kingdom Ink on the outside.
“Kingdom Ink?” I say.
She lifts a shoulder as she pulls open the door. “I’ve always wanted a tattoo.”
My eyes widen. “You have?”
“Well, no. But I know you can’t play ball with that ring on, and I thought it would be romantic to use our honeymoon day to get matching tattoos on our ring fingers.”
My jaw slackens. “Are you serious?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Sure. Why not?”
“Uh, because I’m fucking terrified of needles?”
She laughs. “Toughen up, buttercup.” She sinks into my chest, and I wrap my arms around her. “Will you do this with me?”
She doesn’t really even need to ask. As her brown eyes meet mine, I know I will do anything just to see the question in her eyes melt into a smile.
“Of course I will.”
I’m rewarded with that smile I adore so much, and that’s when I ask my next question. “What are we getting?”
“I was thinking a D on the inside of my ring finger for me, an A on the inside for you.”
I nod. “Deal. Let’s do it.”
We head inside, and it’s not busy. The woman at the counter greets us and asks us how she can help.
“We’d like matching tattoos on our ring fingers,” Alexis tells her.
She nods. “We have a hundred dollar minimum each, and Carl has an opening now if you’d like.”
“Now’s good,” Alexis says.
I feel like I might puke, but this is for my wife.
“Now’s great,” I say brightly.
We’re taken back and told to sit in a chair, and Alexis volunteers to go first. She slips off her ring and slides it onto the opposite hand. “I want a D right here,” she says to apparently Carl, the artist covered in tattoos, pointing to the inside of her ring finger.
He gives her a look, and for just a second, I think he might recognize her. But he plays it cool if he does. The wig is definitely off-putting, anyway. “You won’t be able to wear jewelry on it until it’s fully healed,” he says.
“What about up the side of my ring finger, like here?” she asks, running her pointer finger along the side of her ring finger that touches her middle finger when her fingers are together.
“You could leave your ring on for that,” he says.
“I want it to say D-A-N-N-Y in tiny letters in a simple block script serif font.”
My chest tightens.
She wants my name tattooed on her skin.
He shows us an example from his book, and she nods before she glances over at me.
“My whole name?” I ask.
“Yeah. Because it’s forever, but also because I don’t want anyone to think a random D on my finger means this is where you put your dick.” She glances back at Carl. “Smaller than that, even. Just really simple and elegant.”
“If it meant dick, you should put it on your mouth,” I mutter.
“Danny!” she chides, and Carl laughs.
He glances over at me. “You?” he grunts.
“Same, but I want it to say A-L-E-X-I-S. Or should I get C-A-R-R-I-E?”
“Alexis,” Carl repeats. He snaps his finger. “I knew who you were the second you walked in here. Why are you wearing a wig?”
“So I could slip into a tattoo shop undetected,” she says dryly. “Are you a fan?”
“My daughter is. Sorry for blowing your cover. I won’t tell anyone—except her if that’s okay. Ready to get started?”
“That’s okay.” She nods. “And if you do a really good job, I’ll blast your name on Instagram, okay?”
“You got it.”
He does, in fact, do a really good job, and then it’s my turn.
I noticed how much she was making a face like it hurt like hell while he did hers, and I sit in the chair for my turn.
I’m nervous. I settle on Alexis and I think about adding Carrie to the other side at a later time if it doesn’t hurt too much.
It hurts like a motherfucking bitch.
But I’ve taken a ninety mile an hour baseball to the thigh. I can handle this pain.
I think about closing my eyes to bear the pain, but instead, my eyes meet hers.
She’s looking at me with this pure adoration, and it’s just one more moment that makes me feel like we’re in this together.
It’s a simple gesture, but it’s beautiful. It’s a reminder that even when I have to take off my ring, or she does, it doesn’t matter. It’s just a piece of hardware. But this is a permanent outward sign that’ll go with us into the grave, and there’s something simple and wonderful about that.
The tattoos are meant to last forever.
And so is our union.
We will figure out a way to make it work past these nine days.
We just have to face the first battle in less than twenty-four hours.