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“Where are we going?” I really want to change before we do this.
“You have to pick where you want it.” Lev leads me into a computer room and back towards a printer with a laptop hooked to it. “Do you want to change anything with it?”
“Not a single thing. It’s perfect.”
“Great,” he says with a grin, looking pleased with himself. I mean, he should be. The piece is fucking amazing. “I was thinking you could put it on your thigh.” His fingers trace over my dress right where the three scars are and anxiety builds in me.
If I get it there, I won’t be able to cut up my leg anymore. I haven’t felt the urge to do it in a while, but that doesn’t mean it will just go away. I don’t want to cut into his art when I’m overly emotional or just trying to get through a panic attack. Yet, I do want these scars covered. I want to start replacing the bad with the good and stop focusing on the things I can’t control.
“It’s all your choice, Lucky Charm,” he says in a whisper.
“I think…can you maybe try the stencil in a few other places first?” I don’t want to chicken out, but maybe this will help me make the right decision.
He prints the stencil and we try it on my ribs first, but I don’t like the way it molds with a lot of my scars. My back is the same way and my arm isn’t really as much of an option because I want it to be a decent size so I can keep all the detail.
“Let's try it on my leg,” I say finally, getting emotional and frustrated with the process.
He cleans off the other outlines then preps my leg. There’s a pause before he lays it on my skin like he’s looking for something specific. When the paper covers my scars, a single tear escapes me and I wipe it away before he can see. Slowly, he pulls the paper back. I walk up to the mirror to get a look with my dress bunched up around my stomach.
I see why he was applying the stencil so carefully now. Each point of a rose lines up with a scar perfectly. The shadows and smoke spill out to hide and reform the image of the marred skin. I have no doubt that when it’s done, no one would know they were there unless I told them. It’s perfect.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until Lev comes up behind me and wipes my cheek with his thumb. Tilting my face up to his, he kisses me sweetly.
“It’s okay if you're not ready yet.” His arms wrap around me, and I suddenly feel like everything is going to be okay.
This feels right. I think it’s time I let go of old habits and start embracing new ones. I know I don’t need the cutting anymore. It was a tool I used to bring me back to the present. But now I have three men ready to help me, and I trust them to do just that.
“I’m ready,” I breathe, looking down at the tattoo that somehow already makes me feel like so much more of a fighter than I ever pictured myself as.
I am Evie fucking James, and I’m ready to show the world exactly who that is.
???
The marble room isinsane. It’s literally a whole ass room made of white marble streaked with light gray blemishes. Lev sets up his table in the middle of the room, and Alexi and Damien pull the couch and black fur rug to the side where they have snacks piled up high.
They each take turns holding my hand or coming over to feed me, even though I explained I was capable of moving my hands.
The pain isn’t too bad, but every once in a while, I feel like I want to punch Lev in the face. Damien catches the look in my eye and keeps me distracted.
Alexi doesn’t like the idea that I’m in pain. He offered me numbing cream, to which I told him he was a pussy and if I was dealing with it, then so would he. Now, any time I wince, he glares at me.
I have a strong feeling we will never stop butting heads, and I love it. He keeps life interesting for me. I like to challenge him because it makes me feel strong, but I also trust him to respect me when I say no.
“Sooo…” Damien drawls. I can see the look in his eyes, he wants to ask me something but is afraid he might offend me.
“Just spit it out, Sunshine.” I lay back and rub my eyes. preparing for his question.
“How was your session with Dr. K?”
That was not what I was expecting at all. I freeze with my fingers pressed to my eyes. I haven’t talked about it with any of them really. I don’t know if I even want to talk about it at all. That is, until I remember what Dr. K said.
Talking about our past is our brain's way of working through trauma. We talk and we remember. Then, I remind you that you’re safe, and you have the control. It helps to remake the memory into something that, while still tragic, it doesn’t get to control our present. It just takes time to master that skill.
“It was… good. I guess?” I don’t really know how to answer him. It was good until it was bad, and now I’m scared to do it again because I don’t like feeling that way.
“You can be honest. If you don’t want to talk to her again you don’t have to.” Damien comes to stand by me and takes my hands away from my face, holding each one and kissing them.
“We’ve all been there. Fuck, half the time we still are. We won’t judge you if you’re not ready.”
