“Oh, I need to hear some of these stories.” She tells Darrell.
Just as he goes to open his mouth, to no doubt tell her about the time I puked in a fresh pitcher of beer, I cut him off.
“Nope. Nice try. Today is about you.”
“Today yes, but there are other days. I’ll get my stories. Dex. Mark my word.”
I smile at her, shaking my head. I’ll never live those days down.
“So what brings you in pretty lady?” Darrell asks, adjusting his top hot on his head.
“Watch yourself, old man.” I jokingly warn.
“Not in my nature, kid.” He counters.
“Well…” Bree interjects. “I was wondering if you had time for a walk in tonight.”
“Any friend of Dex’s is a friend of mine. I’ll always have time for friends.”
“She’s my girlfriend, Darrell.”
He turns back to Bree, with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
“Well, then I absolutely have time for you. And I’ll be sure to give you my number so I can tell you all those stories about your boy.”
“Don’t you dare. I’ll take her down the street to go see Kenny if you keep it up.” I taunt.
“Then I’ll make sure that this pretty little thing arrives at your funeral on time if you do.” He counters.
Gotta give it to the old man, he’s spry in his age. Bringing up his business rival, and he doesn’t miss a beat while still trying to slide in on my girl.
“Well I’m not ready to tell her bye just yet, so how about we get down to business.”
He nods his agreement while he chuckles at our banter. He turns to walk away, ushering us to follow with a swipe of his arm. We walk around the back of the counter, through the beads, and down the hall to the biggest station in the building. He plops down at his lit up stencil table and pulls a stool next to him for Bree to take a seat.
“Alright, let’s start with your name and then what brings you in today. I can only tease him so much before he pops a vessel.”
Another giggle escapes Bree as she looks back to see me in the doorway, arms crossed over my chest, leaning against the frame, smiling at her. She turns back to Darrell and gives him the answers he was searching for.
“Well my name is Bree and I’m here to get a tattoo to cover up some scars I’ve recently acquired.”
“Bree, you say?” He asks. Glancing up at me, he points to her and asks “The same Bree from back in the day?”
I smile proudly. “The one and only.”
Bree smiles and gives me a look that says this portion of the conversation is far from over, she’ll be digging for more information as soon as we step foot outside of the shop. And given the penchant I have for giving in to this woman’s every want and desire, I’m sure I’ll spill the information like an overfilled cup, just to make her happy.
“Alright so tell me about the scars and what you want to cover them with.”
Bree glances my way, and I nod my head, letting her know it’s okay to talk about it. She doesn’t have to hide from what happened. She did nothing wrong. She should be proud of her bravery and what she went through, what she survived.
“A while back I was kidnapped and I… I wasn’t treated nicely. My attacker left me with some reminders, and I’d like to cover them up with something else.”
“I read about that in the paper, sweet girl. I am so sorry you went through that. I’d be honored to help you replace those reminders with some new ones. Did you have anything specific in mind?”
I listen closely as Bree goes into details about what she drew on her arm in therapy today and what it symbolizes for her now. She tells Darrell that is doesn’t need it to be exact, but similar in style. She gives him permission to throw whatever flair he wants to on the design, that as long as the ‘connect the dots’ theme is still present, she’s open to all ideas.
I keep my place in the door frame as I watch the two of them sketch out ideas and discuss possibilities on the lit stencil table. They speak animatedly together and get along like old friends. They banter back and forth while Darrell pulls several laughs from her lips. This is the happiest I’ve seen her since before she went missing and I’ve got to say, it’s having the same effect on me.
I stay close, just like I promised, but I do my best not to interject unless I’m asked to. This is her moment. This tattoo will breathe new life into the woman I love. I’m happy to sit on the sidelines and let her bask in the glory of it all.
This is her revival.
“Alright Little Bree, now that we have the design picked out, it’s time to put the stencil on and get to work. You ready?”
“Beyond ready! Let’s do this.” She says, clapping her hands in excitement.
“You got it, kiddo. Let’s get the sharpie washed off real quick so we can put the stencil on and then we’ll start.”
I watch as the excitement drains from her face. She didn’t take into account that in order to cover her scars, she would have to bare them to us first.
I walk over and squat down next to her. I place one hand on her thigh, rubbing in small circles, and with my other hand I nudge her chin up to look at me, but her eyes are screwed shut tightly.
“Breezie, look at me, baby.” I whisper to her.
She lets out a ragged breath and slowly opens her eyes to meet mine. I can see the pain, the shame, residing there.
“I know how you feel about them. And it doesn’t matter how many times I tell you that you don’t have to worry, I know you do. If you want me to step out of the room while you wash off and let Darrell stencil you, I’ll come back in when you tell me it’s okay. Whatever you need, we can make it happen. You just have to say the word.”
“No!” She practically shouts. “I meant what I said, I don’t want you to leave. I just… I don’t want you to think of me differently after you see them okay. Can you promise me that?”
“No, Breezie, I can’t. I will think of you differently.” I tell her, and I watch her face fall, and eyes fill with tears. She tries to pull away from me, but I won’t let her. I hold her in my grasp while I finish saying what I need to.
“I will think of you differently because I will finally see your strength. I will finally see the marks of your bravery. I will finally see what you sacrificed for Max and the twins, for your brother’s future. I will finally see what you went through, something words can’t fully depict. I will see you as a fucking warrior. Because that’s exactly what you are. I’d be honored to see your scars, baby.”
A few tears break loose from each eye and fall gracefully down her cheeks. I stand from my position at her side, and pull her up with me, kissing away her tears.
“You have no reason to be ashamed, beautiful. I mean that. Let Darrell wash you up.”
“Actually… Can you do it, Dex?” She asks, her voice small with uncertainty.
“You want me to wash your arm?” I ask, shocked.
“This is the first and only time you’ll see them. If they mean that much to you… Then yeah. I want you to wash them.”
I never in my life thought that I’d be so excited to touch someone’s scar in my entire life. But this is about so much more than just prepping her arm for a tattoo. This is about her finally sharing her pain with me. This is about her finally letting me help her. This is about her being strong enough, to share her weakness with me, trusting me to build her back up.
And I’ll give everything I have to ensure that she knows she made the right decision placing that trust in me.
Chapter Nineteen
BREE
I could see the pain in Dex’s eyes with each swipe of the soapy washcloth across my hot skin. There was no pity, no disgust, but the pain was evident. And love. Always love.
Sharing my scars with him, hurt less than I thought it would. Maybe because I was on the precipice of erasing them for good. Or maybe because the strength of his love for me, even in my ugl
iest form, was enough to fill the hole I felt within myself after everything happened. I don’t know… I don’t know if I’ll ever know the answer to that.
What I do know, is that I hurt less already. I feel more connected to Dex than I ever have before.
Dr. Nichol’s persistence today felt like a breakthrough. The tightness in my chest has loosened and I don’t feel like I’m looking over my shoulder for a dead man, that I know can’t come after me again. Maybe this is the first step to that magical thing called healing that everyone keeps talking about.
The pain of the needle dragging over one of my scars pulls me from my thoughts.
“Son of a bitch! That feels like you ripped that one back open.”
“Sorry, pretty lady. I know it’s painful. Just a little longer and you’ll be done.” Darrell encourages.
True to his word, Dex has held my hand every step of the way throughout this tattoo. We’re on hour four right now, and there have been several times that the pain felt like fire in my veins.
Darrell assures me that I’m handling the pain like a champ, but if he knew how many times I almost involuntarily punched him, he might not be singing the same tune.
“You’re doing great, babe. I am so damn proud of you. And it looks beautiful. You sure you don’t want a peek at it?”
“No, I want to wait and see it when it’s done. When they’re gone.” I tell him.
As usual, Dex respects my wishes. He always has. He keeps my mind off the pain by talking about anything and everything under the sun. He tells me how DRAB is doing and how excited he is to finish the bike he’s working on. He tells me how much all the guys miss me at the shop. He tells me about Max, and the pregnancy, and updates me on all the gossip with the other girls.
“I think I need to schedule a day to go to the beach with the girls for lunch. I haven’t exactly been the best friend I should be lately.”
“I’m sure they’d love that. But don’t be too hard on yourself, they all understand. Trust me, Max was the same way the first couple of weeks when she was home. It just takes some time. You’ll get there, beautiful.”
“I heard Abel kept her under lock and key the whole time.”
“Yeah, he did. He didn’t even like it when she went to the bathroom by herself. He knows what Max needs, and he gives it to her.”
“Just like you do with me.”
“Your brother might disagree on that front though. But that’s a story for another time.”
I lean down and give Dex a soft kiss, a small token to show how much I love and appreciate him. I learned my stubbornness from my brother, so I know what it’s like when he sets his mind to something. I can only imagine how much he’s been fighting Dex when it comes to me. But Abel will have to learn, one way or another, that it’s time to pass the torch on to Dex, and let him be the man in my life now.
“Alright, Little Bree, you ready to take a look?” Darrell asks, putting the tattoo gun down.
“More than you will ever know!” I squeal.
“Alright, let me wipe your arm down and then we’ll get you over to the mirror.”
The smell of the green soap calms my nerves while the anxiety threatens to overtake all my good sense. It takes great restraint on my part to keep from jumping out of the chair and running to the mirror. This is the first step to putting the past behind me and moving on with my future.
“Alright, you’re all set.” Darrell tells me, as he helps me stand and walks me over to the mirror.
Dex holds my hand the entire way. Not that he had much of a choice really, I had a death grip on his hand after all. The truth is, I don’t want to experience this without him. I’ve shut him out long enough and if I want us to have a healthy relationship after all this, I have to stop running.
I take a deep breath, straighten my spine, and brace myself to face what the future holds. This tattoo is the first step. I turn my body, bringing my arm into focus just like I did in Dr. Nichol’s office, and I can’t believe my eyes.
Where seven thick, ugly, jagged scars used to be, is replaced by the most beautiful tattoo I’ve ever seen. Pulling together ideas and stories behind the importance of ‘connect the dots’, Darrell drew up something so beautiful and personal that it brings tears to my eyes.
My scars have transformed into a brilliant night sky, with an aurora borealis color scheme. My arm is now flooded with bright stars forming the constellation Monoceros. It’s Latin for ‘The Unicorn.’ In the background you can see a faint silhouette of a unicorn, depicting what each star represents in correlation to the picture.
It’s everything I could have ever hoped for, and then some.
I’m kind of amazed that this is on my arm forever, never to be washed away. Something I get to carry with me always, and not hang on a fridge, or a closed door. This is mine. And its beauty makes the scars on my other arm a little more bearable. It makes me hate my reflection a little less.
“So, what do you think?” Dex whispers beside me.
“I think it’s absolutely perfect. I’m… Speechless.”
Dex pulls me into his arms and whispers in my ear. “Yes you are, beautiful. Perfect indeed.”
Once I’ve pulled myself together, I give Darrell a big hug and thank him profusely for all of the hard work he put into making this tattoo so special, and for a walk-in no less.
He shrugs his shoulders like it’s no big deal, but I see his eyes get a little misty, even though he tries to hide it under the brim of his hat.
“I hope you hear the music now. Let this tattoo be to you what my top hat is to me.”
“I think it will be.” I assure him.
“Alright, well you kids go have fun and remember to wash it before you go to bed tonight. Even though your man has enough tattoos to walk you through the aftercare step by step, I don’t let anyone leave my shop without a detailed list so here you go.” He says as he hands over my aftercare sheet. “I’ll see you next week for your other arm?” He asks.
“Without a doubt! But what do I owe you tonight?”
“Oh sweet, Little Bree, you don’t owe me a thing. I told you, I’d be honored to do this and I meant it. All of your scars will be taken care of here at Top Hat, on the house. It’s the least I can do to help erase some of the darkness.”
His words hit me right in the chest and I don’t even think, I just lunge. I wrap my arms as far around his big body as they will go and I hug him with every ounce of gratitude I have.
“You’re one of a kind, Darrell. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I don’t know what I could ever do to repay you.”
“Bring that man of yours out to The Lighthouse and help me beat him at one game of pool and we’ll call it square.”
“You got it!”
We finish our goodbyes and then hand in hand, Dex and I make our way out to his car so that we can grab something to eat, and then head home. It’s been a long emotional day, but the best day I’ve had since I woke up in that hospital bed.
With the windows down, the wind blowing through my hair, and Dex’s hand on my thigh, I know things are going to be okay. It might not happen overnight, there might be days where I struggle… But I’ll get through them. I believe that now. I just have to find ways to make beauty out of the darkness.
When we pull up to a stop light, Dex removes his hand from my thigh long enough to plug his phone in and turn on some music. He makes sure to place his hand back in time for the music to begin. It’s a song I haven’t heard before, so I listen intently, soaking in the melody. My shoulders start to sway, liking the pop-punk vibe right off the bat.
Dex’s voice chimes in as the first-word hits and I can’t take my eyes off of him as he sings to me, putting my heart through the wringer one more time today. As he sings, his motions are boisterous and hilarious, showing me that the jokester I fell in love with is making his appearance once again.
,Apparently we both healed a little today.
<
br /> ‘As we wake up she begins curling up to me in her underwear. And she looks at me with her eyes like planets, in a solar flare. She gets dressed, she looks best with her like, everywhere. And it comes to me in a moment of clarity. She’s a God. She’s a freak like Madonna. She’s a God. Carry me to nirvana. She’s a God. Gimme peace, gimme dharma. She’s the one. Swear to god, she’s the one. She’s a God.’
The song plays out around us, as Dex turns into a one-man band in the driver’s seat, serenading me to the best pop-punk song I’ve heard in years. He’s being incredibly dramatic with his air guitar, air drums, and using an old water bottle as a microphone. I can’t stop smiling, laughing, and of course, joining in. You can’t listen to music like this, and not dance. It’s contagious.
He tells me the song is called ‘She’s a God’ by Neck Deep and I know I will be binging them tomorrow while he’s at work. Darrell was right after all, I can hear the music now. And I don’t ever want to turn it off.
When we pull up to my house after dinner, I step out into the open, and the air whips my hair all around my face, the ends tickling my nose, eliciting a laugh from me. Dex and I are still riding the high of our musical car ride concert, and I’m not ready to call it a night yet. It’s still relatively early, but it’s the latest I’ve stayed up since I’ve been home. We meet at the hood of the car, and Dex pulls me into his embrace, a smile still etched on both of our faces.
“I’m gonna run across the street to my house and grab a few things real quick, wanna come with me?” He asks, pulling some stray hairs away that got stuck to the chap-stick on my lips.
“Nah, I’ll deal with Abel tomorrow, but tonight I just wanna be with you.”
He pulls me in for a kiss and nips at my lower lip, my body responding automatically.
“I’ll make this quick then.” He pulls away reluctantly, holding onto my fingertips until the last possible moment.
As soon as my hand drops from his, he’s sprinting across the street like his life depends on it. With his sense of urgency, I know my time is limited to set my plan in motion. I run inside, bolt up the stairs, and get the music ready. I get undressed and change into the silk robe that I wear after my baths at lightening speed.
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