Wallflower Ink

Chapter 25

· Jace ·

The days pass as they always do and soon it is Monday. The Monday. Between the day she'd hugged me in my shop and this one, she'd had three more panic attacks, each seemingly worse than the one before it. And each time I had thankfully been there to help talk her down. The end of each episode had left her clinging to me again, weeping softly as the irrational fears that held her captive released her. And every time I had wished there'd been more that I could have done for her.

Katie had told me what Merri had confided in her, about being born that way, but I don't fully believe it. Even if that's the case, there's usually a stressor that sets off an attack like that: a memory, a sound, a smell, a thought, something, even if that something seems like nothing to anyone else, like oversleeping or forgetting to buy milk at the store.

That's the thing about anxiety, there are so many ways to create and recreate it in a person's mind.

As I set up the table in preparation for the next phase of Merri's tattoo, I wonder what in the hell could be doing that to her. She seems happier than she's been since I've known her, even occasionally gracing me with the laughter I am fast growing to love. And with me she's been friendlier, not quite so cold and distant. Could whatever is making her seem so happy also be what is bringing on her stress? It doesn't make much sense, but it somehow feels right.

"Hey," Merri says from the doorway, pulling me temporarily from my thoughts. I look up and give her a smile as she enters the room. She eyes the table and the equipment laying on it and frowns lightly.

"I must admit, I'm not looking forward to this."

"I'm sure you're not," I say with a small laugh and a shake of my head. "I don't know anybody who actually enjoys the process. I know I don't."

She looks up at me and studies my face for a moment before smiling herself. "How many tattoos do you have, Jace?"

"Really, just one. Would you like to see it?"

She bites her lip and stares at me a long moment before nodding her head and hopping up onto the massage table. Feeling a bit self conscious, I stand up from my chair and unbutton my shirt then slide it off.

She eyes me silently for a long moment before nodding her head; I turn to let her inspect my back as well. When she hops off the table and takes a step closer, for the first time I can actually hear her approach, as if she's no longer trying to be silent. That thought makes me smile a little, makes me feel like maybe she's beginning to trust me.

I stand perfectly still, feeling her eyes trail over me, tracing every line that has been permanently etched into my skin. The tattoo covers my arm as well, but since she has seen that before she doesn't even look in its direction.

"Who did this for you?" she asks and I feel her step away.

When she hops back up onto the table, I turn back around then lift my shirt off the chair and slide it back on. I look up at her and can't help but notice the flush in her cheeks. She seems embarrassed, and unwilling to meet my eyes.

"Fella I apprenticed under for a few years, Gavin Rourke. Lives upstate a ways. He's the best of the best, and a really great guy. Maybe one day I could introduce you to him, if you want."