Inked in the Steel City Series(90)

“Made this earlier today,” he said, and slowly spun her chair so that the mirror reflected her back. “What do you think?”

She peered over her shoulder at the purplish outline of two lilies and the swirling design behind them. “Looks great.” It was just a silhouette, but it conveyed the same promise of beauty she’d sensed as she’d watched him draw the original sketch.

She sat still in the chair as he turned away and prepared his equipment, unpackaging needles, readying the inks and situating everything on a sterile tray. She’d watched him do this before and was familiar with the way he organized things. It was the actual tattooing that she’d preferred not to watch, thanks to the unnerving buzz of the needle.

“Ready?” He met her eyes in the mirror, apparently waiting for her to give her final approval.

Once, in this same shop, she’d sat with Mina, watching Eric tattoo her. She’d been talkative then, and clearly remembered having had no problem making conversation. Now, her own voice shrank away from her. “Yes,” she said after a couple moments, carefully annunciating the simple word.

“Okay.” He stood behind her, equipment in hand, clean and gleaming. In that moment, Karen understood why so many people called the machines tattoo guns – she felt almost as if she were waiting to be shot.

“Take a deep breath,” he said, “I can give you a second. There’s no rush.”

She nodded, drew a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m ready,” she said afterward. “I don’t want to procrastinate like a baby. Just go ahead.”

“All right. It’s important that you hold still. If it gets to be too much and you need a break, just let me know. We’ll do whatever you can handle comfortably. If you decide you want to break this tattoo up into more than one session, we can do that too.”

“Okay.” Inwardly, she resolved that she would make it through the entire tattoo in one session. She could do this. She’d summoned the nerve to admit to herself – and others – that she wasn’t interested in being a fashion photographer, in fully exploiting an opportunity so many others would’ve killed to have. Admitting what she really wanted had been a relief, had left her feeling empowered. So did this. She wanted the tattoo, and she would face her fear of needles to have it.





CHAPTER 9





The first line of the tattoo blazed a stinging trail across her skin, as did the second. In some areas, the pain seemed deeper – almost an ache – while at other times, it was faint.

“You okay?” Jed asked after what had to only have been a minute or so, pressing a clean cloth gently against her shoulder.

When he lowered it, it was stained with black ink.

“Yeah.” When she was in pain, talking seemed less appealing than usual. And she was afraid she’d move, afraid she’d mess up Jed’s work of art. So she sat silently, focusing on the tattoo portraits on the wall – she’d taken them – which showcased some of Jed’s best work.

She studied the lines and shading of the tattoos, remembering the photo sessions she’d captured the images during. She allowed her mind to wander back in time and tried not to think of needles.

It was kind of hard not to do, in a tattoo studio. She felt the piercing pressure of the needle in her flesh, burrowing beneath the surface and planting pain between the layers of her skin. And yet, she’d lost most of the original horror she’d felt at the idea of being tattooed. Now that she was actually facing her fear, the fear seemed smaller. It was a relief, and she sighed.

“Everything all right?” Jed paused, pressing the cloth to her shoulder again.

She nodded, and he went back to work.

It had been late when they’d started, after the end of Hot Ink’s business hours, and it was well past midnight by the time they finished. They’d paused for some relatively short breaks, but Karen had made it through the entire tattoo. The lingering pain took a backseat to a sense of satisfaction, and she felt more accomplished than relieved.

“Ready to take a look?”

“Yes.”

Though she’d known exactly what to expect, the reflection of her tattoo took her by surprise. The shades of pink, black and white knocked the air right out of her lungs in a little gasp, and she stood and moved closer to the mirror, studying everything, down to the little black dots that graced the lily petals. “Jed, this is perfect. I love it!”

She grinned at herself in the mirror, unable to help it. Her heart was beating a little faster at just the sight of the amazing tattoo. Maybe this was why people came back time and time again to be tattooed at Hot Ink.