Page 93 of The Italian Reckoning
“Notexactly.” I chuckle and pause. “Wait, how do you know Domenico?”
“Who do you think does all his ink?” She pats her chest.
“I didn’t even know he had any!”
Charlie snickers. “Dude. You have no idea.”
“Is there anywhere you guys aren’t involved?” Sarah mutters with a smirk.
“Alright, chick, what can I do for you?” Charlie turns her attention to Sarah as she sits in the tattoo chair and takes a deep breath.
“I have some scars I want covered. But not in the way that I’m ashamed of them. I just… I want to be able to look in the mirror and not instantly be reminded of what caused them.”
“Tricky to do with scars,” Charlie says. “I can’t tattoo directly on them but I can incorporate them, if you think that will work?”
Sarah nods. “But we also…” She glances at me and her cheeks flush pink as if she’s suddenly shy.
“I want one too,” I say. “To match.”
“Scars too?” Charlie asks, looking over at me.
“Yeah, I got a few.”
“No doubt.” She chuckles. “Alright, let me take a look and I’ll see what I can come up with.”
There’s a painful silence when Sarah pulls her shirt off and Charlie leans close to examine the scarring across her abdomen. Her touch appears gentle but it triggers my protective instinct and every ounce of me focuses on Sarah, waiting for the slightest change in her mood that will make me end this.
She lasts until Charlie leans back and looks at me. “And yours?”
I lift my shirt and show Charlie the scars I earned from the Russian gala. She makes an understanding noise in the back of her throat, then wheels herself away on her stool and starts sketching. Sarah and I pass the time poring over sketch books and pictures of other people’s tattoos and the intricate designs Charlie has created in the past.
Twenty minutes later, Charlie is back with her sketch pad and she holds it up for us to see. “Now, I’m thinking for you, Sarah, we can have a cluster of flowers here, some roses in the middle, and work your scars in like the thorns down the stem right here. It looks big but given the length of some of your scars, this one here would work well in the stem. And the petals will open across your ribs. Now, these lower scars near your navel, I want to turn into feathers and then for you, Rocky. You’ll get a bird with matching feathers and a rose clutched in its feet. Same design, see. Just different perspectives. What do you think?”
Sketched out, it looks amazing, but Sarah holds the real answer here. It’s her idea and this design is important to her. Sarah’s eyes shine and she blinks a few times then she nods quickly. “I love it,” she says softly. “I… thank you.”
“Of course,” Charlie smiles. “So, who wants to go first?”
Sarah hesitates so I lean forward. “I’ll go. That way you can watch and you’ll know what’s going to happen.” It can’t be easy to face the prospect of needles against her skin after what caused her scars. Sarah nods gratefully and we switch places with me on the tattoo chair. Charlie adjusts it to lie flat so I can settle on my stomach, then she lightly slaps my back.
“Ready, champ?”
“One thing. Can you tell me how many tattoos Domenico has?”
Charlie snorts softly. “Fuck knows, eighteen I think?”
“Shit. Okay, I’m ready.”
Sarah takes my hand as the needle starts buzzing and our eyes meet.
“I love you,” she says softly the second the needles touch my skin. But pain doesn’t register for me.
She said it.
She actually said it.
Charlie and the tattoo studio fade to nothing.
She loves me. Sarah loves me.
