Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Remembering what I was doing, I reached over to pick the transfer up. “My ex-girlfriend in high school was arrested for assaulting someone. She was a total psychopath,” I told her as I washed my hands and then walked back to her. Lowering back down onto the stool, I added, “I don’t even know why I went out with her to begin with. Maybe it was for a peaceful life because she was so erratic and dramatic? But I remember hearing the rumors about what’d happened and ending it on the same night.”
“I know.” The two words were said with zero emotion in them, and I paused with the transfer in the air above her abdomen.
“You know?”
“Yeah, I’m the one who Hazel attacked.”
Looking from the scattering of scars to her face and back again, my mouth opened and closed a couple of times before the ability to cogitate came back to me. “Are you serious?”
“Her friend Jane saw me smile at you in art class, and she told Hazel, who’d been giving me grief for a while by then. I was just leaving school and was at the bottom of the stairs leading to the entrance when she and her friends surrounded me.”
“I…“ I didn’t know what to say. As a member of The Broken Eagles, I was rarely lost for words, I just didn’t usually want to say them. But this? What the hell was I meant to say? “I had no clue.”
“A lot of people don’t know about it,” she murmured, looking at the transfer that was still hovering above her. “Hazel’s parents bought a lot of silence.”
Not wanting to make her feel awkward, I lowered the transfer until it was over the area, then lifted it to make sure I’d made it large enough and to gauge what wouldn’t be covered if the waves were tattooed in that place. I also did it so I could get my head back on straight after hearing how the scars that marred her skin had come to be. And I was linked to them—Jesus Christ.
“I’m so sorry, Sienna. If I’d known—” I stopped and kept my eyes on the area, feeling the pain of her scars more now. “She stalked me after I broke up with her. After I threatened to get a protection order against her, Hazel’s parents sent her to go and live with a family friend for a while.”
“She’s got one from me. My lawyer’s had to extend it a few times because she sends me a pencil and a nasty letter just before the old one’s about to expire. I’ve moved quite a few times because of it.”
Shaking my head, I blew out a breath. “What a psychotic bitch. Does she know where you are now?”
“No, but that hasn’t stopped her before. The judge brought her in during the last application for an extension and made it clear to her and her lawyer that she was to get the help she was told to get after it happened but has somehow managed to avoid getting. If she doesn’t do it, she’ll be held in contempt of court, but I’ll also be able to get an order that runs until further notice.”
“What does that mean?”
“I guess until a judge sees fit to rescind it.”
Pulling the transfer back, I picked up the scissors from my rolling table and cut the waves out. “I can put this straight onto the skin and cover the ones in the bigger cluster like we discussed.” When she nodded, I got out my sharpies. “I’ll stick to how you’ve done the birds in your picture, so they go from small at the tips of the waves to larger as they fly into the sky. Is that all okay? Is there anything else you’d like to add to it?”
“So long as the scar’s gone, do it how you think’s best.”
After I’d prepped the skin and laid the transfer onto it, I peeled it back and eyed the placement of the ink left behind. Getting a smile and thumbs up from Sienna, I picked up my orange Sharpie and drew on the birds, making sure to do them just like she had in the picture. The next color I used was darker, to give me the outline to follow with the needle.
When I was done, I rolled back and gestured at her to get up. “Go and check it all in the mirror and make sure you’re happy, then we can get started.”
I’d deliberately pulled back from the conversation to avoid overloading her emotionally. Tattoos weren’t always the easiest thing to have done, and in her circumstances, it definitely wasn’t easy. I also didn’t know if she had any triggers, and I didn’t want to run the risk of hitting one inadvertently. Hell, hadn’t she said she didn’t go out often and had to mentally prepare herself for when she did?