A few minutes later, when I get cold, we move beneath the covers and every so often, he kisses the top of my head. Each time it feels like he’s breathing me in. His hands roam. Over my back. My ass. He hikes one of my thighs up and pulls it over his. All the while, his fingers travel over me and knead my skin.

I reread the inked words on his chest, and trace them again with my finger. He discovers deep things out of the darkness and brings out to light the shadow of death. ~ Job 12:22.

“What does it mean, your tattoo?”

I look up and see his eyes are closed. He opens them and lifts up a little to look down at it for a second then drops back to his pillow.

“The meaning changes for me. I got it originally because I discovered a completely different side of myself when I stopped livin’ according to Paul’s rules. I was slowly dyin’ in that house with him and my mother. I was so lost in what they wanted me to be, that I didn’t even know who I was. When I left, I started livin’ by my own rules and eventually I found some meaning to life. I also found a place to belong and brothers . . . even though I grew up with none.”

I try to understand what he’s saying and feel what he felt when he got the tattoo.

For him living in the light and being someone he wasn’t was killing him. He found himself and his way in the dark.

His hand finds mine and starts to play with my fingers. He murmurs, “I love your hands, Doll. They’re so small, but so strong.”

“You said the meaning changes?”

He takes his time to answer. “Yeah. Being close to death a few times. Seein’ it happen to those around me . . . seein’ how it changes people.” He links our fingers together and squeezes my hand. “It hovers over us day and night, and yet we take it for granted. We forget that tomorrow we might not be here. That those we love could suddenly be gone. And our time with them over.

“That’s why it was killin’ me to be patient for you when I knew you were what I wanted. None of us knows how many tomorrows we’re gonna get. And I want as many as I can have with you.”

He holds me for quite a while. Every so often, his hand trails up and down my back.

Still curious, I ask, “What about your other tattoo? These images on your arm.”

“Stories. From the Bible. Stories that mean somethin’ to me.” Looking down, he asks, “You ever read it?”

I shake my head no. “My mom didn’t believe in God or any of that.”

“But you do?”

“Yes, I do.” The memories of Will as a baby tunnel through my mind. She was so beautiful and perfect. Such a happy baby. And one hundred percent healthy even though Sunny had been doing drugs, smoking, and even drinking while carrying her. I used to thank God every day that he’d somehow protected her, and given her to me.

Mav’s hand pauses. But a second later, it resumes. “When I first started readin’ it, I hated it. I didn’t understand what most of the words meant. But eventually, I did and the stories interested me because they were a part of history and I loved all the fighting.” He chuckles and I feel the vibrations of it reverberate in his chest. “It wasn’t until later I saw the lessons behind the stories. Truths I always wanted to remember and maybe share with my own kids.”

Leaning up I ask, “Will you tell them to me?” His brows furrow. “The stories.” I rub my thumb over his brow and ease the tension out of it. “You can practice on me.”

His arms tighten around me. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Jesus, Doll. I don’t even think you know what you do to me.” Shaking his head, he takes a deep breath. “Okay, but don’t laugh. It’s been a while and I’m not much of a storyteller.”

I zip my lips closed and smile up at him.

“Which one first?” he muses while holding up his arm and turning it.

I point to the redheaded woman plucking a piece of fruit from a tree. I’ve been beside myself with curiosity since seeing her. Is she Dana or someone else?

He laughs out loud this time. “Eve?”

“Is that her name?” He nods. “Yeah, tell me about her.”

He proceeds to tell me about Adam and Eve, the Garden of Eden, and the serpent. At first, he’s stumbles through, forgets parts, and has to go back, but after a minute his passion for the story comes through and he starts adding other things he’s picked up from studying other versions of the Bible.

I ask questions and he tries to answer every one.

He finishes and says, “See what happens when you leave the fate of the entire world in the hands of a woman?” I smack him and he laughs playfully. Capturing my hand, he rolls me onto my back. He pins my hands above me and interlocks our fingers. His lips take mine in a slow but ardent kiss. Pulling back, he sighs, “I’ve always thought a little sin is good for the soul.”

“Oh, yeah?” I smile too.

He pecks my lips again. “Yes. I think sometimes we’re meant to sin in order to find our way.”

My eyes fall to the angel on his arm. “And that one? What does it mean?”

His body tenses and his hands squeeze mine.

Looking up into his face, I say, “You don’t have to tell me. I’m just curious.”

He shakes his head and says, “No. You should probably know in case . . .” His words fall away and a little of his darkness seeps back in. I can see it in his eyes.

“Dana was pregnant.”

An unexplainable pain shoots across my chest. “You’re a dad?” Then I realize what he said. Was . . . as in no more.

“No.” He lets go of my hands and rolls to his back. “Never got the privilege.”

What was it Bethany had said? That when Mav found Dana, it was a month later, and she’d been blissed out on drugs.

“Did she . . . ?”

“I don’t know. All I know is she took off when she was six months pregnant. She only had a small baby bump when she left. When I found her a month later, she was stick thin and had no belly whatsoever. She wasn’t pregnant anymore and the doc told me there’s no way the baby could’ve lived if she’d had it between the time she left and the time I found her. I checked with all the hospitals just in case though.”

“Have you talked to her since to find out what happened?”

“No, I haven’t talked to her. It’s better if I don’t ever see her face again.”

I lay my palm over his heart. “I’m so sorry, Mav.” His hand lays over mine.

Meeting my gaze, he says, “It’s why I needed that promise from you.”

“I would never hurt a baby. Ever. Born or unborn.”

He leans up to kiss my forehead and then pulls me down, and I hear the rapid beat of his heart. “I know that.”

“Did you love her?”

“Yes, but not in the right way. Not in the way you’re supposed to. I didn’t love her for who she was. I loved her because she needed me. Because she could give me the future I wanted, and I loved her because she was going to be the mother of my child. I guess, I just thought it was time, you know, to move on with life. Find a girl to love, have a family, have a home to raise our kids. You can only live this life for so long before it wears and tears at you. I was more attracted to her than I’d ever been to someone else. I wanted someone to call mine. I just thought she was the one. But I was the one puttin’ in all the work, so it always felt one-sided. Lookin’ back, I see all the signs tellin’ me how wrong she was for me.”

“It’s easier to see the signs looking back.” I think about all the warning signs I missed with Warner and how glaringly obvious they are now. “It makes me feel stupid when I think about how many I missed.”

Rubbing my back again, he says, “Tell me about him.”

It’s hard to be here with Mav and think of Warner. I used to think they were so much alike. But Warner pulled me in with his All-American Boy disguise and then took off the mask to reveal something extremely ugly underneath. I feel like I’ve seen Mav’s ugly mask. The one he used to push everyone away. It’s off now, and I see the real him, and what I see is beautiful. Where Warner was a monster in disguise, Mav’s just a good man hiding behind his pain.