Page 41 of The Italian Reckoning (A New York Criminal Empire #3)

ROCKY

T hings change after that.

One touch and suddenly, Sarah can’t keep her hands off me, not that I’m complaining.

She’s eager for everything—a make-out session in the elevator, fucking on the roof under the stars, sucking me off in the shower, fucking in the kitchen, the bedroom, the laundry room.

In short, we christen every room in her new apartment, and it doesn’t stop there.

She wakes me up in the middle of the night excited to explore this new surge of feelings and lets me eat her out at every available opportunity until I know her scent and taste are more than enough to make me rock hard.

I sit her down one evening to talk about it just in case this sudden hyper-sexuality is another symptom of her trauma, but after a long talk, I’m assured that this is her taking back control of her body, and I won’t stand in her way. I’m more than happy to help her.

In between the rampant sex, Sarah returns to work.

Domenico had a very stern, very aggressive chat with her boss and secured her job position in any department she pleased.

Sarah used this to leave behind Homicide and settle into Missing Persons.

Tracking down Bobby across the city ignited an interest in weaving clues together, and she decides to follow that interest into doing what she can to find people.

There’s the added perk of finding people alive, which makes it all the better.

It helps that being with me means Sarah has the entire might of the Italian Mafia at her beck and call without having to abandon her morals.

Cormac’s involvement in her rescue, as well as Anastasia’s help recognizing Bobby, give her a fresh outlook on what the Mafia does for this city, though she makes it clear that she won’t be giving any of us special treatment.

Sarah reaches a shaky understanding with everyone involved.

No special treatment means exactly that, but she’s not against us helping one another out.

Especially when someone who deserves punishment slips through the legal net on a technicality.

As she throws herself into her new role, I make a similar agreement with my father.

I’m not ready to take over yet and he’s not ready to step down, but the calls for a change in leadership don’t fade.

So I step up and take on control of a large portion of our casinos and a more prominent presence at the important meetings.

It’s enough to keep the rumblings at bay and gives me the chance to learn as much as I can from my father before he steps down, whenever that may be.

While I hold no love for the man, I can’t deny everything he’s done for the growth of our organization and he’s worth learning from.

Even if our methods differ.

Sarah’s apartment becomes my home. I’m not exactly sure when it happens but suddenly, I have a toothbrush, my own coffee mug, and she clears out drawers for me.

I go from squatting at her place to keep her safe to living there and nearly lose my balls when I make a joke that she only wants me here for sex.

She’s getting her fire back and it’s beautiful to see.

As September comes to an end, Sarah sends a cryptic text with an address and a request to meet her after work.

I’d be worried if not for the fact that she sends several more texts about dinner and a desire to go dancing again.

I try not to take credit in her recovery because ultimately, it’s all her own hard work, but I like to think I’m helping.

Getting through my father’s meeting is a bit of a slog and going over the expense and profit reports for the casinos are equally boring, but we’re gearing up for Christmas which means we’re about to make an incredible amount of money.

My father seems happy with the progress and Domenico flashes me one of his proud of you smiles when I retake my seat.

A few hours later, I pull up outside the address Sarah sent to find her leaning against a wall with a cheeky smile on her face.

“You want to get a tattoo?” I ask, climbing out of my car and gazing up at the sign. “I didn’t think you were into ink.”

“It’s been on my mind,” she says as she walks forward and takes my hand. “Want to get one with me?”

“A couple's tattoo?”

Sarah rolls her eyes. “If you want to call it that, sure.”

A tattoo. Something like that is permanent, especially getting it with someone else. Sarah looks at me with such hope shining through her glasses that there’s no way I can say no. I don’t even want to. I’m so committed, I’d tattoo my whole body if she wanted me to.

Inside, we’re greeted by a heavily tattooed woman who checks our ID and has us wash up before taking us through a curtain to where a woman relaxes back on a chair with a smile stretching across her black lips.

“Sarah, I presume?” she says. “Hey, I’m Charlie.”

“I called ahead,” Sarah says to me, then she walks forward. “Nice to meet you, Charlie.

“And this is?” Charlie looks at me.

“Rocky.”

“Wait, do I know you?” Charlie leans forward with one thin elbow balancing on her knee. “Wait, I do know you. You’re uhm…” She snaps her fingers a couple of times. “Domenico’s kid.”

“Not exactly .” I chuckle and pause. “Wait, how do you know Domenico?”

“Who do you think does all his ink?” She pats her chest.

“I didn’t even know he had any!”

Charlie snickers. “Dude. You have no idea.”

“Is there anywhere you guys aren’t involved?” Sarah mutters with a smirk.

“Alright, chick, what can I do for you?” Charlie turns her attention to Sarah as she sits in the tattoo chair and takes a deep breath.

“I have some scars I want covered. But not in the way that I’m ashamed of them. I just… I want to be able to look in the mirror and not instantly be reminded of what caused them.”

“Tricky to do with scars,” Charlie says. “I can’t tattoo directly on them but I can incorporate them, if you think that will work?”

Sarah nods. “But we also…” She glances at me and her cheeks flush pink as if she’s suddenly shy.

“I want one too,” I say. “To match.”

“Scars too?” Charlie asks, looking over at me.

“Yeah, I got a few.”

“No doubt.” She chuckles. “Alright, let me take a look and I’ll see what I can come up with.”

There’s a painful silence when Sarah pulls her shirt off and Charlie leans close to examine the scarring across her abdomen.

Her touch appears gentle but it triggers my protective instinct and every ounce of me focuses on Sarah, waiting for the slightest change in her mood that will make me end this.

She lasts until Charlie leans back and looks at me. “And yours?”

I lift my shirt and show Charlie the scars I earned from the Russian gala.

She makes an understanding noise in the back of her throat, then wheels herself away on her stool and starts sketching.

Sarah and I pass the time poring over sketch books and pictures of other people’s tattoos and the intricate designs Charlie has created in the past.

Twenty minutes later, Charlie is back with her sketch pad and she holds it up for us to see.

“Now, I’m thinking for you, Sarah, we can have a cluster of flowers here, some roses in the middle, and work your scars in like the thorns down the stem right here.

It looks big but given the length of some of your scars, this one here would work well in the stem.

And the petals will open across your ribs.

Now, these lower scars near your navel, I want to turn into feathers and then for you, Rocky.

You’ll get a bird with matching feathers and a rose clutched in its feet.

Same design, see. Just different perspectives. What do you think?”

Sketched out, it looks amazing, but Sarah holds the real answer here. It’s her idea and this design is important to her. Sarah’s eyes shine and she blinks a few times then she nods quickly. “I love it,” she says softly. “I… thank you.”

“Of course,” Charlie smiles. “So, who wants to go first?”

Sarah hesitates so I lean forward. “I’ll go.

That way you can watch and you’ll know what’s going to happen.

” It can’t be easy to face the prospect of needles against her skin after what caused her scars.

Sarah nods gratefully and we switch places with me on the tattoo chair.

Charlie adjusts it to lie flat so I can settle on my stomach, then she lightly slaps my back.

“Ready, champ?”

“One thing. Can you tell me how many tattoos Domenico has?”

Charlie snorts softly. “Fuck knows, eighteen I think?”

“Shit. Okay, I’m ready.”

Sarah takes my hand as the needle starts buzzing and our eyes meet.

“I love you,” she says softly the second the needles touch my skin. But pain doesn’t register for me.

She said it.

She actually said it.

Charlie and the tattoo studio fade to nothing.

She loves me. Sarah loves me.

I didn’t realize how desperate I’d been to hear those two words until this moment. Constantly telling myself that it didn’t matter if she didn’t feel the same, that I’d be okay if I never heard her say it.

Without knowing just how much I craved to hear it.

“I love you too,” I say, tightening my grip on her hand. “So much. You have no idea.”

“Oh, I think I do,” Sarah murmurs softly and she leans down, kissing me gently. “I definitely do.”