been
through. He could see it in her knowing gaze.
And there was a kind of brutal comfort in
that.
He shook his head. “They were victims of the
bombings in Spain. Patients that I couldn’t save. Kind of stupid, huh?”
Nikita sat silently for a long minute, then
turned slowly on the stool until her back was facing him. “Do you see this?”
She pulled her hair to the side, exposing her
back. Dare stared at the tattoo design of a large tree that covered her back. The
bark of the tree was done in various shades of brown, and it continued below the
material of her tank top. He could see the majority of the branches were bare
on the top of the tree, creating a stark, ominous image. At first he thought it
was depressing, even grim looking, but as he looked closer he could see that
there were a dozen or more lush, green leaves blooming on some of the branches.
The leaves were vibrant with color, and had a sort of gleam to them as if they
were kissed by the sun’s rays and covered in morning dew.
“Doing what we do, we lose a lot of people.
Everyone deals with it differently. They may be gone, but I choose to keep them
with me this way.” She turned back around, and her violet eyes held a fierce
light in them now. “You’re creating a personal tribute. However you need to
remember isn’t stupid.”
Dare nodded his head, grateful for her
acceptance of something he’d never tried to explain to anyone before. “Thanks.”
She grunted in response. “Take off your shirt
or roll up the sleeve. I need a better look at your arm.”
He pulled off his t-shit, exposing his upper
body and turned so she could look at his right arm. The barbwire tattoo that
wound around his bicep was simply done in black and grays. It had been
something private he had done long ago to deal with his grief at losing a few
of his first patients, and he’d been adding to it ever since.
Nikita leaned closer, studying the design on
his arm. All business now, she said, “I’m going to have to add to the length of
the wire to add the barbs if you want them to be evenly spaced.”
“That’s fine.”
She turned away from him and began to set up
the things she needed, leaving Dare to sit and think as he watched her draw out
the addition on his arm freehand. As someone who had her own, Dare realized Nikita
had been right when she called it a personal tribute. But while she had decided
to give life to those she had lost, Dare had chosen to use the image of sharp,
jagged edges to represent the pain of each loss he felt.
Still, the meaning was the same.
When she was done, she asked, “What do you
think?”
Dare got up and looked in the mirror, then
down at his arm. “Perfect.”
“Great. Have a seat again. We’ll get started
in a minute.” The sound of buzzing filled the air as Nikita tested the
mechanical needle she would use to tattoo him. Once again, he looked around the
room and admired the comfortable atmosphere she had created in her space.
“You work in here alone?” Dare asked, unable
to keep the censure from his tone.
She shot him a smirk, clearly amused. “You
worried about me, Doc? Save your concern for anyone who comes in here wanting
to fuck me.”
Dare didn’t doubt she could handle herself,
but whatever remained of the southern gentlemen inside him still didn’t like
the thought of a woman working alone in such a secluded place. “So, people have
come in here and bothered you?”
Nikita let out a loud, aggrieved sigh. “You
just can’t help it can you? Just because I don’t have a penis doesn’t mean I
can’t take care of myself.”
“Christ, shoot a guy for caring,” he said
with a scowl. Damn, she was an obstinate woman. Smiling, she patted his arm.
What was with people doing that today? “I
know Hunter works with you part-time...”
“He does. And I have two more guys that work
here at night. The security in this place is better than you can see, and I
have a sort of reputation around the area.
through. He could see it in her knowing gaze.
And there was a kind of brutal comfort in
that.
He shook his head. “They were victims of the
bombings in Spain. Patients that I couldn’t save. Kind of stupid, huh?”
Nikita sat silently for a long minute, then
turned slowly on the stool until her back was facing him. “Do you see this?”
She pulled her hair to the side, exposing her
back. Dare stared at the tattoo design of a large tree that covered her back. The
bark of the tree was done in various shades of brown, and it continued below the
material of her tank top. He could see the majority of the branches were bare
on the top of the tree, creating a stark, ominous image. At first he thought it
was depressing, even grim looking, but as he looked closer he could see that
there were a dozen or more lush, green leaves blooming on some of the branches.
The leaves were vibrant with color, and had a sort of gleam to them as if they
were kissed by the sun’s rays and covered in morning dew.
“Doing what we do, we lose a lot of people.
Everyone deals with it differently. They may be gone, but I choose to keep them
with me this way.” She turned back around, and her violet eyes held a fierce
light in them now. “You’re creating a personal tribute. However you need to
remember isn’t stupid.”
Dare nodded his head, grateful for her
acceptance of something he’d never tried to explain to anyone before. “Thanks.”
She grunted in response. “Take off your shirt
or roll up the sleeve. I need a better look at your arm.”
He pulled off his t-shit, exposing his upper
body and turned so she could look at his right arm. The barbwire tattoo that
wound around his bicep was simply done in black and grays. It had been
something private he had done long ago to deal with his grief at losing a few
of his first patients, and he’d been adding to it ever since.
Nikita leaned closer, studying the design on
his arm. All business now, she said, “I’m going to have to add to the length of
the wire to add the barbs if you want them to be evenly spaced.”
“That’s fine.”
She turned away from him and began to set up
the things she needed, leaving Dare to sit and think as he watched her draw out
the addition on his arm freehand. As someone who had her own, Dare realized Nikita
had been right when she called it a personal tribute. But while she had decided
to give life to those she had lost, Dare had chosen to use the image of sharp,
jagged edges to represent the pain of each loss he felt.
Still, the meaning was the same.
When she was done, she asked, “What do you
think?”
Dare got up and looked in the mirror, then
down at his arm. “Perfect.”
“Great. Have a seat again. We’ll get started
in a minute.” The sound of buzzing filled the air as Nikita tested the
mechanical needle she would use to tattoo him. Once again, he looked around the
room and admired the comfortable atmosphere she had created in her space.
“You work in here alone?” Dare asked, unable
to keep the censure from his tone.
She shot him a smirk, clearly amused. “You
worried about me, Doc? Save your concern for anyone who comes in here wanting
to fuck me.”
Dare didn’t doubt she could handle herself,
but whatever remained of the southern gentlemen inside him still didn’t like
the thought of a woman working alone in such a secluded place. “So, people have
come in here and bothered you?”
Nikita let out a loud, aggrieved sigh. “You
just can’t help it can you? Just because I don’t have a penis doesn’t mean I
can’t take care of myself.”
“Christ, shoot a guy for caring,” he said
with a scowl. Damn, she was an obstinate woman. Smiling, she patted his arm.
What was with people doing that today? “I
know Hunter works with you part-time...”
“He does. And I have two more guys that work
here at night. The security in this place is better than you can see, and I
have a sort of reputation around the area.
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