It was a comfort to know that my mother—or the woman who gave birth to me—was taken care of. Whether she deserved it or not, I would’ve cared.

“But,” I ventured, “she hasn’t looked for me. That I do know.”

And if she wanted to know me, she would’ve tried to find me. Hell, my footprint in the system rivaled the president’s. The system had my entire life documented, coded, and stored. That’s what happens when you grow up in foster care.

“What does Jared say about this?” she asked.

“Jared doesn’t know. The only person I ever confided in was Madoc.”

I glanced over at her, seeing the confusion in her eyes before she looked away. Madoc was easier to talk to, and when I needed to confide in someone, I considered him the safer bet.

“Jared thinks that everything hurts me,” I admitted. “He doesn’t want me to worry or struggle or be unhappy. He would take one look at her and think she was bad for me.” The outfit, the environment, the suspension … “Exactly what he thought about you,” I teased her, smirking.

“Me?”

I nodded. “You knew I wanted you in high school. But I never pursued you. You didn’t wonder why?”

“You did pursue me,” she blurted out, laughing. “You flirted with me all the time.”

I let out a condescending chuckle. “Baby, if I pursued you, I would’ve had you,” I threatened, reaching my hand over and running it up her thigh.

“Jared thought I was too wild for K. C. Carter,” I explained. “He thought we’d have fun, and then you’d come to your senses and dump me on my ass.”

A smile brightened her face, and she unfastened her seat belt, leaning over close to my ear. My eyes drifted closed as she kissed my neck, and I forced them open again to stay focused on the road.

“So he didn’t trust me?” she whispered, her breath tickling my skin, making me clench the wheel.

“Are you saying he was wrong?” I taunted.

“I’m saying I’m tired of people telling me who I am.” She leaned in close to my face and gave me a disappointing, quick peck on the cheek. “Go to the Black Debs, okay?”

The tattoo shop Jared frequents?

“Why?” I asked.

“Just go.”

When we got back to town, I parked along the curb across from the shop, seeing the lights on, but the OPEN sign off.

I turned to tell her, but her car door slammed shut, and she was already rounding the front of the car, carrying her black journal with her.

Shit.

I shook my head, wondering what the hell was going on. She needed a tattoo? Right now?

But I still hurried my ass out of the car.

Jogging across the street, I followed her into the shop and spotted Aura, Jared’s artist, munching on half a sandwich as she pored over some sketches.

She looked up and stopped chewing as Juliet strutted right through the half door leading to the back.

“Can you fit me in?” Juliet asked.

Aura peered around her to look at me, probably hoping I’d explain.

We knew each other. I’d come here with Jared, and Aura had been trying to convince me for years to get some ink. “You’d be hotter with some tattoos, kid,” she’d said.

Yeah, because that was a reason to get tattoos.

She must’ve done Juliet’s angel wings tattoo as well, because she seemed to know her way around.

Aura held the sandwich close to her lips, finishing her bite. “The sign on the door did say ‘Closed,’ right?” Her snarky attitude ever present.

Juliet opened her journal and flipped through the pages, tearing one out and handing it to Aura.

“I want this,” she indicated. “Here.” She rubbed the inside of her wrist where her scar sat. “Please?” she asked, taking off the Gear on her wrist.

I walked over, standing at Aura’s side and taking in the sketch Juliet had made. Actually it was text. The thick black letters in an intricate font read Non Domini.

“What does that mean?” I looked up at Juliet.

“It’s Latin. It means ‘no masters.’ ”

She looked at me, holding my eyes as understanding passed between both of us.

No mothers. No fathers. No gatekeepers. Non domini.

I liked it.

Snatching the paper out of Aura’s hand, I sat down in her chair. “Me first.”

Juliet’s smile spread over her face. “You?” she said, her eyes lighting up. “You’re getting a tattoo?”

I arched an eyebrow. “If you’re going to make a big deal out of this … ,” I warned.

She shot out her hands. “No, no. I just don’t want you making quick decisions that you’ll cry over tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well,” I explained, “I like it. It speaks to me.”

Actually I loved it. It was me, and it was the first thing I didn’t mind having as a constant reminder every time I looked in the mirror. First thing that I felt I needed as a constant reminder.

“Okay.” She nodded, accepting my answer.

Coming up, Juliet kissed me on the lips and plopped her notebook in my lap. “I’m going to the bathroom. Be back in a minute.”

She walked away, locking her hands behind her back to keep her skirt from swinging up as she walked.

I shook with laughter no one heard and relaxed against the chair.

“I like her,” Aura said softly, pushing up my T-shirt sleeve and cleaning the skin on my left biceps.




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