"Why did you decide on that tattoo?" For emphasis, she traced the design with her index finger. A gold-inked crown with red and blue "gems" along the tiered top balanced on a black King of Clubs playing card beneath.
"Oh that," he chuckled as he grasped her hand. "Would you believe I did this on a dare? In high school, I got in with a somewhat rough crowd who called themselves 'The Kings' Club.' Not a gang, mind you, more like a group of stupid, punk kids. These guys ran around painting graffiti on historic buildings, skipping school and drinking behind some old storage sheds. We used one as our headquarters. I thought I needed the club's signature as my badge of manly honor, though the tat hurt like hell."
She laughed. "What about your brother?"
"Oh, he did it, too. We became the cl
