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She’d met him. She was sure of it.

Old-school, neon-green text on black. A thread titled: “Damon Vex—anyone know what happened to him?” tattoo search iafd

The man from her dream was sitting on the edge of her bed. His left sleeve was rolled up. The koi fish was no longer a tattoo. It moved—a slow, liquid pulse of crimson and black across his skin. She’d met him

She didn’t recognize the name. But the face—angled jaw, dark eyes, a small scar above his left eyebrow—made her breath catch. tattoo search iafd