I’ve had a word with Danny, and he’s knocking my subs down to five quid a week for the next month till I can get my folks back on their feet. Me Da’s broken his leg which means he can’t work, so I’m gonna need to help Ma out with the rent. He rubbed that back of his neck in a gesture that betrayed his unease. “Numbers are tomorrow night, you know that.” “Thought I’d get in while Con’s distracted and try for that number,” he answered. The door tapped a little bit later, and in walked Tommy, more subdued than I’d ever seen him. He grinned back knowingly, and as he shut the door behind him, I crossed my legs to relieve the ache. “I’ll wait,” I replied, as I felt my cheeks reddening. Can you wait an extra hour for me, or shall I get Kier to walk you home?” I was sure he took pleasure in leaving me speechless as he laid a gentle kiss on my head and moved toward the door. “It’s perfect, and it will give me a good story to tell our kids.” “But my handwriting is terrible,” I replied, horrified yet exhilarated with what he’d done. “They weren’t even my words,” I exclaimed, as though he could still somehow change his mind about the tattoo.
O’Connell seemed to find my reaction highly amusing.
“But.” I muttered, at a complete loss for words. I ran my fingertips back and forth across his skin, in case I was wrong, but sure enough, the ridges of the text were slightly red and scabbed.
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