That pulls another full-bellied laugh from Simon.
“A cactus,” he repeats again with a chuckle, shaking his head almost in wonder.
“That’s who I am now—who I choose to be. A cactus.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do,” he says. “Where do you want it?”
I unstrap my brace, hold out my arm, and point to my wrist. “Right there, please.”
Smiling, Simon grabs my wrist and lays it flat on his thigh. After unwrapping the needle and dipping the tip into his jar of octopus ink, he gets to work, and I watch in comfortable silence as the misunderstood plant slowly forms.
It hurts like hell, but pain always comes before beauty. How else would we appreciate it?
“Done,” he announces twenty minutes later, straightening so I can inspect my wrist.
“It’s so fucking cute, Simon,” I proclaim, smiling at the misshapen cactus on my wrist. “If only you could do this with a cactus needle.”
He guffaws. “Don’t think there are any cacti ’round here. But you find one, and I’ll do ya next time with one.”
“You’re going to do what to her?”
My eyes widen, and I turn to find Enzo storming toward us, a frown marring his face.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, feeling a lot like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
“I was heading to the bait shop and happened to see a little blonde thief sitting at a bus stop.”
“Well, hey now—”
“It’s okay,” I cut Simon off, placing my hand on top of his. “He’s a grump, but he’s my grump.”
Simon glances at me before settling back on Enzo’s fierce expression.
I face said grump, and show him my wrist, a bright smile on my face once more, though inside, I’m bartering with Satan not to let this man piss off my only friend.
“Simon gave me another tattoo. It’s a cactus.”
Enzo’s hazel eyes drop to my wrist, and then he’s grabbing my arm and bringing it closer. I bite my lip, my body flushing hotter from his tight grip.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the feel of him, but I don’t mind trying.
“Why a cactus?”
I give him the same reasoning I gave Simon, but he doesn’t react. He just stares at the plant for another few seconds before releasing my arm.
“That’s not sanitary,” he states finally.
“It’s not,” I agree.
He turns his gaze to Simon, and again, he just stares, a frown still on his face. I’ve no idea what the hell he’s thinking, and as usual, I can’t tell if he’s pissed or not. His normal face and his angry face look the same.
After a moment, Simon sasses, “Well, you gonna sit down for your own or just keep starin’ at me like a dead fish?”
Enzo cocks a brow, unimpressed. But to my utter surprise, he sits on the other side of Simon and silently holds out his wrist.
“Make it quick,” he grumbles.
My mouth falls open, and now I’m the staring dead fish as Simon unwraps a new needle.
“Whatcha gettin’？”
“A shark.”
Unbothered by Enzo’s short, snappy responses, he leans down and starts working on the tattoo. Hazel eyes are flashing to me, then dropping to my still open mouth.
“You’re gonna catch a fly in there,” Simon calls out to me, sparing me a glance.
“Uh,” is my only response. Enzo just arches a brow again, as if saying Well? You going to close your mouth or what?
I snap my jaw closed hard enough for my teeth to click.
“You’re strange,” I tell him finally.
Simon smiles.
“He fits right in, doesn’t he?”
Meeting Enzo’s stare again, I say, “I suppose he does.”
Epilogue
Sawyer
Two Years Later
“Enzo, wait, this is so not safe. We’re going to die,” I plead, the end of my sentence broken by a moan.
He pulls back his hips only to sink his cock deep inside me, causing my eyes to roll. I force them straight, glaring at the stupid man right as the beast mere feet from us whips its tail, sending ocean water spraying into our faces.
Enzo grins and fucks me harder in response, pulling another yelp from my throat.
We’ve been in the shark cage for the past hour, watching three giant great whites circle around us. All of them have taken a turn biting into the cage, and while I’m slowly getting used to the sight of a shark’s mouth right in my face, it doesn’t mean my bladder still isn’t threatening me in the meantime.