Ruthless knight

Cole

Sawyer telling Oakley the truth shouldn’t bother me. 

But it does. 

Same goes for her not wanting to talk to me.

Hell, if anything, I should be happy she can draw a line in the sand and separate things between us so easily, because most girls can’t. 

They get clingy and needy.

Constantly confusing what things are with what they want them to be. 

But not Sawyer. 

Nope, my Bible Thumper has no problem placing me back in my box. 

“Who shit in your Cheerios?” Jace questions. 

Dodging his question, I continue watching Sawyer and Dylan talk to one of the tattoo artists in the shop. He’s only a few years older than I am, but unlike me, he’s covered in tattoos and his earlobes—if you can even call them that—are overstretched around some black holes. 

But his appearance isn’t what’s bothering me. 

It’s the way he’s paying extra special attention to Sawyer.

Jace follows my line of sight. “I told you dating her was a bad idea.” 

“We’re not dating.” 

“Fu

“It’s fak—”

“You ready, man?” some dude calls out behind us. 

Jace whips off his hoodie. “Hell yeah.” 

I raise a brow. “You’re getting ink today, too—what the fuck is that?” 

Jace isn’t new to tattoos given he’s been getting them since he was sixteen, but I can’t help but notice the new one under his ribcage. 

Upon closer inspection, I realize it’s the chorus to a Jimmy Eat World song. 

Specifically, his girlfriend’s favorite one. 

“Jesus fucking Christ. You let her brand you?” 

Jace shrugs like it’s no big deal. “She didn’t brand me. I branded me.” 

“That’s even worse.” 

Needing support from someone else with balls—since my brother no longer has his—I look to Oakley, who’s currently flirting with the girl at the counter and wave him over. 

The moment he reaches me, I gesture to Jace’s new ink. “Can you believe this shit?” 

Oakley squints. “What is it?” 

“Lyrics to Dylan’s favorite song.” 

Surprise crosses over his features. “Oh. That’s…interesting.”

“The word you’re looking for is dumb as fuck.” 

Jace reclines in an oversized chair. “Are you done yet?”

He should know me better than that. “No.” Raising my hand, I halt the tattoo artist. “Not so fast. I need to make sure my idiot brother isn’t getting another sissy tattoo for his girlfriend.” 

“Shut up, Cole,” Dylan grinds out as she settles into a seat. “It was really sweet of him to do.” She makes eyes at my brother. “Not to mention incredibly romantic and sexy.” 

I make a gagging sound. 

Sawyer plops down in the empty chair next to her. “Don’t mind him, he’s just missing this thing in his chest called a heart.” 

She’s not wrong. 

Turning back to my brother, I ask, “What are you getting done today?” 

“A butterfly,” he deadpans. 

Oakley and I exchange a glance…then we both start howling with laughter. 

It’s bad enough he has some girly lyrics tattooed on him, but a goddamn butterfly? 

 I look at him seriously. “Did it hurt when she neutered you?” 

That only makes Oakley laugh harder. “Does she keep them in a jar so you can see them every now and then?”

Jace narrows his eyes at us. “Fuck off.” 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Dylan says. “Your brother’s just being a hater because he has to pay someone to be his girlfriend.”  

Well, shit. 

Sawyer asked me to donate ten-grand to her church at the end of all this, but I didn’t think of it as paying her to be my girlfriend. 

Is that why she’s able to turn it on and off so easily? 

Is it just about the money for her? 

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out my donation to her family’s church will benefit her in some way. 

What I can’t figure out is why that bothers me so much? 

It shouldn’t. 

Fuck knows I was ready to use her without a second thought. 

Dylan’s lips twist into a scowl. Evidently, she isn’t finished telling me off yet. “Jace isn’t getting the butterfly for me. He’s getting it for Liam.” 

Of course, he is. 

It’s not enough for his entire chest to be covered with gigantic angel wings and the words, ‘My brother’s keeper.’ 

He has to keep adding to his permanent Liam shrine.  

Making sure everyone knows exactly who his favorite brother was. 

Meanwhile I know damn well if I was the one who died instead of Liam, Jace wouldn’t be ru

He’d probably be relieved. 

Everyone would. 

I can feel Jace’s eyes on me. “Do you want one?” 

“Do I want what? A stupid butterfly for the person who ripped what was left of our family apart when he offed himself?” Gri

I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth, but it’s too late. 

It’s always too late. 

The shop goes silent.

But that’s what I do. 

I hurt…so I hurt others. 

Especially the people I care about most. 

Jace’s jaw hardens. “I meant a regular tattoo, prick.” 

“Oh. I see. You were offering to do something nice for me since it’s my birthday.” I glare daggers right back at him. “No thanks. I’m good.” 

The anger in his eyes turns to anguish and he looks away. 

Mission accomplished. 

Dylan springs up in her seat. “Why do you always have to ruin everything—”

“Dylan,” Sawyer whispers. “Drop it.” 

Dylan’s mouth falls open. “Are you serious—” 

“You should listen to your friend,” I tell Dylan before my eyes shift to Sawyer. 

Ignoring me is the smart thing to do.  

It’s what everyone does. 

“I think I want to get my dick pierced,” Oakley a

Safe to say everyone’s attention is now on him. 

Dylan blinks. “What?”

Jace eyes him suspiciously. “Why?” 

I wince. “Dude, no.” 

“Ladies love it,” the tattoo artist setting up shop by Dylan and Sawyer comments. “Trust me.” 

There’s no mistaking the flirty smirk he sends Sawyer’s way. 

Or the blush creeping up her cheeks. 

“Do you think it hurts?” Oak asks me. 

“It’s a piece of metal going through your cock,” I remind him. “Of course it fucking hurts.”

Tattoo guy shrugs. “It’s actually not that bad.” He turns to Sawyer and Dylan. “Did you two decide where you want your tattoos yet?” 

Dylan and Sawyer exchange a glance and Dylan points to her hip. “We’re go

“Awesome. Who’s going first?” 

Sawyer nods toward Dylan. “Your birthday is two days before mine, so you should go first.” 

“Okay.” Dylan tugs down the top of her yoga pants, baring her hip. “Let’s do this.” 

Oakley looks at their tattoo artist. “How does sex feel with one?” 

“Fucking awesome. Especially for her.” He wipes some antiseptic stuff on Dylan’s skin. “But I can only speak on behalf of the apadravya, not the Prince Albert.” 

Oakley ponders this for a moment. “What’s the difference?” 

“A PA goes through your pee hole and out the side. Apadravya goes vertical through your tip.”