So she was an English teacher.Interesting development.Why on earth wasn’t she teaching?Schools all over the city were crying out for great teachers.Today wasn’t the day to push her for information, but he wanted to know.
“This will be our room for the next however many hours this takes.The transfers are ready over there for us.Want to take a look before we get started?”
The hand he was holding was frozen to the bone.The fingers on her other hand were flaring again.Nervousness seeped from her.Every protective instinct in him was screaming to pull her into his arms and hold her there.
“We’ll shave your back and then place these transfers on it.I’m going to do it with you standing so I can make sure they end up straight.If it’s okay with you, I’ll ask Cujo to help me out rather than cut it into pieces.”
“How did you make these?”Harper picked up the layers of what looked like old-school copy paper.
“Some I drew by hand, some I ran my sketch through the thermo fax, kind of like a fax machine for tattoo designs.”
“I’m making this difficult for you, aren’t I?”Harper suddenly turned to face him.“I mean, I bet you normally have to hold people back.People travel to see you and can’t wait to get started.They just want to get a tattoo done by you—you being amazing and all.”Her mouth curved into a small smile.“You’ve had to literally hold my hand,” she said, lifting their joined hands, “every step of the way.”
“Everyone is different, Harper.If it helps, this is probably the most unique situation I’ve ever been in.Can’t say I usually have to literally hold someone’s hand through it, but it’s no hardship and I’ll help you get through this any way I can.”
“I never wanted a tattoo, you know.Before, I mean.I would never have thought about getting one if this hadn’t happened.”She turned to face him, squeezing his fingers so tightly he wondered if it was possible to cut off his blood supply.“If surgery to remove the scars had been an option, I probably would have gone that route instead.”
Trent tried to ignore the churning feeling in his stomach.He wished she hadn’t told him, wished he didn’t know that she so disliked something that was a fundamental part of who he was.
He led her to the back table to see the transfers, transfers that he hoped held some of the best work he had ever done.She had no idea how much of himself he had invested in the detail of the design.He hoped that given time, she’d value the tattoo as more than just a trick to hide the scars and come to see it as a statement about who she was, what she stood for.“You know guys love a hot chick with a bad-ass tattoo, right?”he said, wanting to bring a smile back to her solemn face.
“I’m probably the least bad-ass person there is.I play Scrabble and bring pastry thank-yous.Bad-ass for me is not recycling my garbage or keeping a library book past its due date.”
Trent laughed, loving her sense of humor.
“So you’re agreeing with the hot chick part?”
“No!I mean… crap… no… definitely not!”Flustering Harper was way too fun.It could become a permanent occupation.
“And I loved the pastry thank-you.You can bring those any day of the week.”He laughed as Harper blushed.“Well, as the saying goes, life isn’t about finding yourself, it’s about creating yourself.Ready to be re-created as a bad-ass?”
Now her eyes were shining bright.“As ready as I’ll ever be.You ready to show me how amazing you are at this?”
“Always,” he said, grinning at her.“One amazing, bad-ass tattoo coming right up.”
***
“I think there’s one more thing you need to do before we get started.”Trent leaned a long mirror up against the wall.
“And that would be?”
The warmth of his fingers jolted her as he wrapped them around her wrists.“Don’t panic when I say this.Just hear me out.”
The tone of his voice unsettled her.
“You need a before.”
“A what?”
“A before… a photograph… to compare to the after.To see how far you have come.”
“NO!”The idea was curdling in her stomach.Feeling chilled, she grabbed for her T-shirt.“I have twenty different angles from the trial.I don’t need another view.”
“You do,” he said, reaching to brush her hair behind her ear.“This is for you.Just you.No one will ever see it if you don’t want them to.”
“I can’t… I don’t…” Panic was closing in.Her chest was tightening.
“Someday you’re going to make your peace with this, sweetheart.It’ll be a painful step that shaped the incredible person that you are.You’ll be proud of your own strength and determination, and you’ll wish you had your own record of this very moment.When you changed the path you were on.”
