A Sinner’s Saint (De Bellis Crime Family #4)

Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

A tattoo. She was coming to my best friend’s shop to get a fucking tattoo. And my brother was in here encouraging her. I’m not against tattoos. Obviously. I’m fucking covered in them.

What I am against is anything hurting Cammi or putting her under any kind of stress she doesn’t need. I know the doctor said she could go on with her day-to-day life. She’s got a heap of follow-up appointments and more testing to do over the next couple of weeks. But I’m not convinced she’s fine. People’s hearts don’t just stop for no reason.

I read about the condition the doc thinks she has. Broken heart syndrome. It fits, and it fucking guts me that I did that to her. Which is why, when she told me about the tattoo she wanted and the meaning behind it, I caved and decided to tattoo her myself.

It’s three numbers. It’s not a difficult design or anything. At least if I do it myself, I can watch her reaction and stop if I think the pain is getting to her. Personally, I don’t think tattoos hurt, but I’ve seen grown-ass men cry in Marcus’s chair.

Marcus hands me the transfer sheet, and I look down at Cammi’s wrist. I can do this. I can reach out and touch her. She wants this. I tell myself that she’s already given me permission to touch her.

I gently wrap my hand around her wrist. Both of us are quiet, our eyes connecting as my thumb traces small circles over her perfectly untouched skin. And then she smiles at me, that blindingly bright smile. The one I’ve been waiting for. I used to love seeing her smile. She smiled yesterday but it wasn’t real. It was nothing like the one she’s giving me now.

“You really want this?” I ask her.

“I really do,” she says.

“Okay.” I turn her wrist over and stroke the area she pointed out. “Right here?”

“Yes,” Cammi confirms.

After I stick the transfer on her, I peel the paper back and we both look at the numbers now marking her skin. Marcus pushes a table over to me with his gun, a new needle, and a tub of black ink. “If it hurts, I’m stopping,” I tell Cammi. “I don’t care if you end up with half a number, babe. I’m not doing this if it’s going to cause you pain.”

“It’s okay. It’s not my first tattoo, Vin,” she says.

I blink once. Then twice. I’ve seen every inch of this woman naked. She doesn’t have any tattoos. I would have noticed. “You don’t have any tattoos, Cammi,” I tell her confidently.

“I do, actually. You just haven’t noticed yet,” she says more confidently .

My brows draw down in confusion while my eyes roam over her body. “Where?”

Cammi moves her head to the side and lifts her hair. And right there, behind her right ear, is my name. Vin, with a love heart around the letters.

I’m fucking speechless. “When did you get this?”

“After the first time my heart stopped, when I realised you weren’t coming back. I wasn’t ready to let go. This was my way of keeping you with me,” she says. “It’s stupid. You hate it.” She drops her hair and shifts in her seat.

“No, it’s not. I love it. I’m just shocked. How the fuck didn’t I notice it before? And I’m pissed at myself for making you feel like that,” I tell her.

“We’re moving forward, right? No looking back?” Cammi asks.

“Right. Should we do this?” I pick up the gun. I’m somewhat more relaxed now that I know she’s aware of what to expect pain-wise.

“Let’s.” Cammi places her wrist on the armrest for me. After attaching the new needle and dipping it into the ink, the gun whirrs to life, and I get started.

Cammi doesn’t flinch. I keep watching her, waiting for any indication that she’s uncomfortable. I can hear Marcus and Elena arguing about something in the back of the shop, but I tune them out.

“All done,” I tell Cammi, wiping the area clean.

“I love it. Thank you.” She holds up her wrist to examine my work.

“My turn.” I hand her the gun, place the transfer on the exact same spot, and then position my wrist on the armrest. Cammi goes to hand me back the gun, and I shake my head. “I want you to do it.”

Her eyes go wide. “I can’t do that, Vin. I don’t know how.”

“You do. It’s just curves and lines. Just like all those buildings you love to draw.”

“But that’s on paper. This is your skin. What if I mess it up?” she asks.

“Then I guess I’ll have a fucked-up tattoo forever.” I laugh. “It’s fine, babe. I’ll help.” I place my hand over hers and guide her over the first number nine. Once I think she’s got the hang of it, I let go. She digs a little too hard at times, and I bleed more than I usually would. But it’s fucking perfect when she’s done. “I love it. See? You can do anything, Cammi,” I tell her.

“That was fun. Maybe I should ask Marcus if he needs an apprentice.” She smiles at me.

“Or you could stick with becoming an architect,” I suggest, the idea of her touching other men for a living not sitting well with me at all. Plus, I know the kind of clientele Marcus gets in here and Cammi doesn’t need to be anywhere near those guys.

“You just said I could do anything.” She lifts a challenging brow.

“Anything within reason. Anything that doesn’t involve your hands on other men.” I know my words aren’t going to go over great, but I’m not backing down. No fucking way is she working here. Not that Marcus would hire her. If he knows what’s good for him, he sure wouldn’t.

“That’s stupid. What if I wanted to become a doctor? I’d have to touch people, Vin,” she says.

“Do you want to be a doctor, Cammi?” I ask, knowing full well she doesn’t.

“No, but that’s not the point. I could, if I wanted to.”

“I have no doubt.” I stand and start cleaning up Marcus’s station.

“Cammi, I’m really sorry to bust up this love fest, but I have class.” Elena walks out of the back room and over to us.

“Oh, we’re done. I’ll come with you.” Cammi jumps out of her seat. “Thanks for the tat, Vin. I’ll catch you later?” she asks, stepping closer to me. “Kiss me goodbye and follow me back to campus if you must. If not, I’ll be okay. Promise. And I’ll call you when I’m done for the day.”

I lean down and capture her lips with mine. “I’ll see you later,” I tell her. We both know I’m following her back to campus. I’m not ready to let her go.

Gio tells me I need to step back a little and let her have some space. He also said I’d end up suffocating her and she’ll hate me for it. I’ve given Cammi enough reasons to hate me already, and I’m counting my lucky fucking stars that she’s finding a way to forgive me. To give us another shot when she has every right to steer clear of me.

I lean forward and press my lips against hers again. I never want to stop kissing her once I start. “I love you,” I tell her as I pull back.

“I love you,” she says.

After she walks out, Marcus turns to me with a grin. “Want me to fix that?” he asks, nodding towards my lopsided number nines. Let’s just say drawing on paper and skin is not the same, despite what I told Cammi.

“No,” I grunt. “It’s perfect the way it is.” Because Cammi did it.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs. “Are you good? With her and you doing… whatever it is you’re doing again?”

Marcus was there when I left her. I was a fucking mess. I’ll never tell her how bad I got, and I hope like fuck no one else does either. Not because I don’t want her to know, but because she doesn’t deserve to have that thrown on to her. I have no one to blame but myself for what I did to us.

“I’m better than good,” I tell him.

“You worried about it happening again?” He’s asking about me hurting her while I’m asleep, while I’m trapped back in that fucking room.

“I’d be stupid not to be,” I admit. “I woke up last night and she was sitting across the room. She didn’t want to wake me up.”

“That’s good. She shouldn’t be waking you up,” he says.

Marcus doesn’t know what happens in my nightmares, just that I have them. I’ve never come out and told my friends what I went through, and I won’t. “Yeah, I guess.” I run a hand through my hair. “I asked her to marry me.”

“You what?” He stops what he was drawing and drops his sketchpad onto his table. “What’d she say?”

“Yes.” I smile.

“Jesus, fuck, Vin. I swear to God, if you fuck this up with her again, I’m gonna cap your ass myself. That girl is fucking nuts about you and that’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. Probably once in ten lifetimes for the likes of you.” He laughs.

“I know,” I agree. Cammi is the one-off and she loves me. Fuck knows why, but she does. Even after all this time, after everything, she said yes.

“What’s going on with her heart?” he asks.

“I fucking broke it,” I grunt.

“I know that, but what happened yesterday?”

“Literally, I broke her heart. Doc thinks she has broken heart syndrome, something about extreme emotional distress weakening your heart.”

“Makes sense. You left her and you two were weirdly attached to each other. I guess it’s like ducks or swans.” Marcus isn’t making any fucking sense. But then again, it’s not often that he does.

“Huh?” I question.

“They mate for life, and if one dies, the other never moves on. They have one mate and that’s it,” he explains.

“Oh. Guess we’re ducks then.” I jump up, deciding I’ve given her enough space. Cammi will be heading to her next class soon, and I want to try to catch her before it starts.