What We Deserve (Wishbone Tattoos #1)

Prologue

Eli

My cell phone rings while I’m setting up my tattoo machines for the afternoon, and I grin when I see the caller ID.

My Em. I smile because I can’t help it. We hung up just five minutes ago, when she let me know she was just going to her place before heading back to the parlor, but my girl can call me as often as she wants.

I’m curious, though. “Hey, Chère,” I answer, feeling that familiar warmth spread through my chest as I wait for her to talk.

There’s no response, just a few odd scuffling noises.

“Hellooooooo, Em?” More sounds like an overfilled washer dryer.

I’m just about to hang up on the assumption that she’s accidentally butt-dialled me with her cute-as-a-button ass when I hear shouting and a crash, like a slammed door and a dropped skillet, over the line.

And then my blood turns to solid ice and my stomach plunges through the floor as I hear my girlfriend yelling at the top of her lungs, her voice dripping with rage and fear, “Get - GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW!”

“Fuck!” I bark. I’m running out of my studio and towards the shop’s front exit before I even know what I’m doing, clutching my cell tightly.

My heart feels like it’s trying to force its way out through my throat with panic.

Leo and Dean flinch when I burst into the reception area, but I don’t have any time to explain.

She’s in danger and she needs me NOW. I may already be too late.

“What’s - ” Leo starts, but I’m already breaking into a run.

“CALL THE COPS TO EMILY’S!” I throw over my shoulder as I hit the street, hoping that he caught that. Thank fuck she only lives five minutes away. I’m going to be there in one, I swear to god.

I can hear someone running behind me, and in seconds Dean has caught up to me by running flat out. I’m grateful to have his unquestioning support, and backup in case shit goes bad. And to maybe keep me from killing the motherfucker and spending the rest of my life in jail.

I yell at other people on the streets to get out of my way, and they yelp behind me as I leave them in the dust. My adrenaline is pounding, and I’m going as fast as I can, faster than I’ve ever run in my life, not caring if I leave my cousin behind.

I know exactly who’s in Emily’s apartment.

She crawled out of the hell he dragged her into, and he’s trying to force her back in.

Over my dead body. Over his, if he really pushes it.

My heart is racing in my chest, my temples are pounding with hot fury, and the streets are a blur.

I put my cell to my ear to see if I can hear anything, as I never ended the call, but it’s impossible.

I’m breathing too hard and too loudly, and I can’t hold the phone steady enough as I sprint.

SHIT. Regardless, I don’t want to pause for so much as a second, because I know. I’m certain.

Somehow, he’s found her address.

But the moment I first held her in my arms, before I knew for certain that she was the one for me, before I told her I loved her for the first time, I swore to myself that this shitbag would never hurt or frighten her again, and I meant it.

This time, she’s not alone.