Page 129 of The Man with a Treasure

Massaging her feet, which I was now wanting to touch myself, he shrugged. “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” She must have made a face because he chuckled and added, “Okay, how about this?” He tugged on her foot. “You could kick me right now.”

Gasp! “No!”

God, he adored her. His smile screamed it. “Why shouldn’t you kick me?”

“Because I love you. That would be mean! I hated to be kicked.” She rubbed her stomach. “It hurt.”

Trying not to have furious visions of killing men in my head while holding this woman, I laid my hand over hers, on her belly, and kissed her hair.

Sal nodded. “That’s you being wise, Dove. You stopped and thought about the repercussions of your actions. You decided you didn’t like them, so chose not to act or demand.”

She eyed her pad again. “What would the r-rep-repre—” Her hand tightened on her cup.

To avoid it from flying and hitting a wall—anger issues that would take time to work through—I laid my hand on top of hers there, too, and calmly whispered, “Repercussions.”

As Sal had taught her, she took a deep breath and exhaled. “Re-per-cu-ssions.”

As a reward, he massaged deeper into her foot. “There. You chose not to punish that cup.”

She whispered, “It was hard not to.”

Nodding some more, he agreed, “Yep. As some decisions are. And you made the right one, Scarlett. You are very intelligent. Always remember that.”

After a moment, she exhaled again. “Okay. What would the re-percussions be to having a tattoo?”

I hissed. “Besides marking up perfect skin?”

She touched the scar of the hand holding the cup. “I want my warrior scars to be prettier.”

My mouth fell open, and my eyes raced to Sal. Is that what he taught her? Her scars were signs of strength?

He dipped his chin to me.

Sal Rossi was one of the most giving and thoughtful killers there ever was.

He told Scarlett, “The downfall with tattoos is that they are forever. They don’t come off. You want to be sure what marks your skin is something you truly love.”

Setting the coffee mug down on the table, she grabbed her pad and ripped out the page. Sal and I watched intently as she laid the piece of paper over the lower half of her arm. “Like this. This would be beautiful forever because it reminds me of all that makes my heart beat.” She tapped her chest. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Sal’s lips pursed and awkwardly moved about as he fought emotions, now seeing her drawing of his eyes on her arm. I was grateful to be behind her so she couldn’t see my eyes well with raw honor.

Sal tried again, “That… I, uh… Scarlett Giordano, that would be the most beautiful tattoo I have ever seen.”

Her voice cracked, “Promise?”

He swallowed over and over. “Promise.”

When I heard a car pull into our driveway, I tapped the side of Scarlett’s thigh. “Mae is here.” Mae had claimed to have a package for me. I was hoping that wasn’t code for the Hell Furies were back in town.

Scarlett moved closer to Sal so I could get up.

Heading toward the door, I felt for my guns. Habit.

They were easy to grab since Scarlett detested our jackets as of late.

Opening the front door, I was stunned to see Mae standing there with an actual small yellow package in her hand. I quickly shut the door behind me after stepping outside.

Mae nodded. “I didn’t think this was good news.”