by Amanda Jones
"No problem. Everything okay?"
"Just a little more tired than I thought I'd be at this hour. Can we get started?" she said, not meaning to rush but knowing that she'd pay for staying stiff and unmoving throughout the time it'd take to get the tattoo completed. Her body would be on fire tomorrow and she'd more than likely spend the entire day in bed from it.
"No problem. Fill out this paper and I'll prep the area. Since you didn't know what you wanted I brought out some of the idea books and three custom sketches that I did for you in case one of those tickled your fancy."
He laid the books down in front of her and put the three sketches on top for her to browse.
He wiped down the entire station with alcohol, opened a fresh needle, loaded the tattoo gun and redid all the plastic wrap to ensure a clean environment before calling her back.
"Did you choose one?" he asked as soon as she walked in and sat on the table.
"I really love this one. Could you put that on my thigh?"
He looked at the sketch she held, the one of the lion, before looking up at her with a slight smile. Emily the Lion-hearted.
"Excellent choice, the color will just pop where you want it to be."
She laid back and rolled her skirt up to her waist, unashamed and bolder than she'd ever been. She felt empowered already.
Throughout the hours of line work and then shading, Holden would remind her to breathe. He would get her water whenever she started to look paler than when she walked in. He noticed she wasn't chatty like the other girls he tattooed. Her green eyes held sadness and pain.
"So what prompted you to get a tattoo?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"Just doing some life changes. Made a list of everything I wanted to do that I had been too apprehensive to do." She didn't feel the need to give him the whole truth when a fraction would suffice.
"I can understand that. A bucket list."
"A what?"
"Bucket list. That's what I've always heard them called. List of things someone wants to do before they die."
A barely noticeable shiver went through Emily's body. Under Holden's touch, the bear inside him sensed it. It could feel her heart speed up and her body temperature alter, more than is normal in getting a tattoo. It alerted Holden to her distress.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Yes, sorry, must be a tender spot." She replied. Very tender, she thought, in fact you hit it right on the head.
He went on in the relative silence, comforting her when she seemed pained. At the end of the session, he let her view it in the full-length mirror and saw the happiness radiate through her.
"It's perfect." She whispered; a tear falling down her face.
Holden rubbed the shop's blend of petroleum jelly and oils over it, covered it with a bandage, and went to get her the list of aftercare instructions.
"And if you need anything, anything at all, call me."
His hand went out and took the paper and wrote a number on it without thinking twice about it. His home number, not the shop's.
And with her smile and gentle wave to him, she walked out into the night air.
He reminisced about the encounter after she was gone. He remembered how she sat stoic through it, even though she looked weaker than a kitten. He thought of how her body reacted, how he could feel the sadness coursing through her. He wanted to know more about her; what made her tick, what drove her to make the list, and why she had reacted so intensely to the bucket list. Holden realized he almost didn't care if he lost the shop over her.
Chapter Four: The Invitation
She sat there at the edge of her bed and gently traced the now-healed lines of her tattoo. Each morning she looked at it and smiled. She didn't know how he got it so perfect; how he had captured the strength and bravery she wanted to have in these final months.
The aftercare sheet lay crumbled in the waste bin, not having been looked at in the weeks since the appointment. Once you read it, you didn't really need to keep it around. Keep it out of sunlight, keep it moist while it heals, and don't rub it after a shower. Simple enough.
The one thing that she hadn't done though was empty that waste basket.
She walked over and pulled the paper out and rubbed it with her hands to straighten out the creases. There, in the corner, was why she kept it. His name and number.
She looked over at her list and saw it there staring at her. Have a one night stand. While she ached to fulfill 'fall in love' she knew she needed to knock the one night stand off first. She'd never been the bold one. Every school dance she waited for someone to ask her. Even now she waited for invitations. Not this time. This time Emily was going to go and make the first move.
The phone shook in her hand as she pressed the numbers.
"Hello?" A sleepy Holden, answered.
Shit, she thought, just because I'm up at this hour doesn't mean a guy that stays up tattooing all night is.
"Hey, sorry if I woke you. This is Emily. The girl you gave the lionheart tattoo to?"
"Oh right, yes. Healing up alright? Is everything okay?"
It had been weeks and he stopped hoping she'd call by the third day, believing that she threw away the aftercare sheet without a second glance like most of his clients.
"Yes, it looks great. Thank you again for it. No, I was calling to see if you wanted to get together, perhaps?"
He could hear the waiver in her voice. She didn't ask out people often and this wasn't meant as a casual thing by the sound of it.
Tread lightly, he thought.
"Sounds good. I'm at the shop every day this week, though."
"Well, I could meet you after your last client Friday if you'd like. I'll bring some food and wine. Deal?"
He really couldn't say no to that. "Deal. I'll text you when I'm nearly done Friday, then."
He spent the rest of the day analyzing the brief conversation.
Chapter Five: The Bar in the Back
While the week flew by for Emily, it slowed to a painful crawl for Holden. He tried to play it cool and wait for her to appear Friday but found himself holding the phone nearly dialing her number.
What is it about this girl that makes me so crazy? He wondered. She'd been on his mind ever since she came in for the tattoo. She seemed so weak and fragile to him yet she radiated a strength he'd never known. Whatever it was, he had to know more about her.
He texted her roughly a half hour from when his last client would be done telling her he was nearly finished. She didn't reply back which made that 30 minutes turn into 45 with how often he would check his phone to see if there was a message. With a happy client walking out the door, he stood by the window and looked out into the night. He saw her then, propped beside a small red compact car. She looked tired; worn. He had the door open to go to her, when she ambled up to the archway.
"Hey sorry I'm a little late." She apologized.
"No, no, it ran later than I thought and he just left. You're right on time." He smiled at her. Every fiber of his being wanted to keep her safe and happy. His bear wanted to wrap up in her warmth. The two dwelled inside Holden with but a single goal; to make Emily theirs.
He helped her inside and hung her coat. Clicking the door latch and securing the 'Closed' sign, they retreated to the back room.
Originally designed to house supplies, the back room had become a make-shift lounge where there was a mini-fridge, tables, sofas, and random books scattered about. It was where he went for some downtime between clients.
Today it was a date spot. He'd thrown a plaid blanket down and even had some flowers nearby.
Emily took his hand as he sat on one edge of the blanket and started to unpack the food she brought.
"I hope you like Chinese," she said to him, "I got a little bit of everything because I didn't know what you liked."
It was a feast and a far cry from his leftover pizza he normally had after work.
"You know you could totally renovate this area and have a bar in the
back of your shop." Walls of reclaimed heart of pine stared back at her as she said this, while she was thinking of ways to make wine glass lighting fixtures.
Holden didn't want to talk shop. He always talked shop with his friends. No, today he wanted solely to know more about the lush beauty that was sitting cross-legged on the floor along side him.
"So, Emily, tell me more about you." He asked after snagging the last of the dumplings.
"Well not much to tell, really. I spend a vulgar amount of time online with my friends. I work as a freelance copywriter so I don't have a typical 9 to 5. I love animals and trains. I'm really sort of boring if you must know," she laughed.
"Oh you're far from boring. You've got a lionheart tattoo to prove it, too."
He smiled at her and when she smiled back at him, looking deep into his eyes, he leaned over to kiss her. Soft lips pressed against his with a hint of strawberries. His light kissed turned hungry, as he sucked her bottom lip in. His hands went up to her neck and slide under her hair, holding her to him.
"I don't know what you do to me Emily, but I know I want it to keep happening." He murmured in her ear as a husky growl-like sound came from deep inside him.
She stopped thinking of wine glass fixtures and heart of pine bars and focused on the sweet tingle that was rapidly going through her body. Her legs became jelly as she gave thanks to already being on the floor and having little space to fall. Casually, she slid over to him and walked on all fours over him, laying him out on his back.
Never having been the aggressor, Emily was fast taking charge of knocking 'one night stand' off her list as her fingers flew to undo his shirt. Fabric pulled from out of his pants as he had tucked it in as her hands went to undo his pants.
He picked her up off him, pulled her crop top over her head, and buried his face in her breasts. Licking and sucking each tender nipple, he alternated between light and hard nibbles. The sounds Emily made were getting louder and his cock strained against his zipper. He wanted her, all of her, and he wanted it in the worst way.
Her breath quickened and his bear could feel her excitement. Holden breathed in the intoxicating scent of Emily and he was already sliding his hand down her body, finding the sweet, wet folds. His fingertips circled her hard nub as he played with her clit and his finger slipped inside her. Her gasp was music in his ears and his bear was ready to claim her.
It was only then that he thought of his vow. If he gave in so easily what would he learn? This was no way to begin a search for true love. His bear was angry and raged inside, forcing itself to the surface. Holden panicked as his claws started to form and bits of fur began to break through where there was once skin.
"I can't do this, Emily, I'm so sorry." He said as he ran from the room. He couldn't let her see him like this and there was no way he could stop it from happening, he was too far gone as it was.
He stopped in the storage area, panting for air and waited for his bear to calm. He could still smell her making his cock twitch harder. He was locked in a battle inside his own body, full of lust and logic. Two opposing sides desperately wanting out.
Chapter Six: Fallout
By the time he was calm enough to believe that his bear was not going to shift to the surface, Emily was gone. He tried texting her to tell her he was sorry but had no words on how to explain what must have been baffling behavior.
Holden was mortified. What kind of man just runs out on a date in the middle of when most men would be begging to stay?
He walked home in silence, hoping that somehow she'd find a way to forgive him and they could work it out. He gave serious consideration on telling her the truth about why he left.
Emily woke the next day with more questions than she had answers. She wasn't able to mark 'one night stand' off her list, but more quizzical was why he bolted from the middle of it. I don't think I've ever seen a man move away from me as quick as he did. Was I that bad?
She looked down at her phone and saw a text and a missed call from Holden. The text simply apologized and told her he'd explain it all in due time while the call went to voice mail without a message left. She could hear him sigh before hanging up.
She made the promise to herself to text him back later, after she was done shopping for the day, but for now she was still too full of anxiety over why he suddenly stopped wanting her to worry about it. She needed to check a few more things off the list while she still had time.
She went online and tried to get a few friends to go along with her, as she'd been more tired than usual lately. While they all had plans and tried to get her to postpone the event until later, Emily was determined to go without them.
Through mini-skirts, tunics, and strappy tank tops, Emily was sliding on clothes that were nothing like what hung in her closet. She was finding fabrics that clung to every curve and accentuated every soft ripple of her body. Emily looked at herself in the mirror, taking in all the changes that she had already done, and smiled. She rounded up her bags and hit the nearest salon for an impromptu haircut.
"Are you sure?" the stylist asked again for the third time as she ran her hand through the long, blonde locks.
"Yes, completely. Cut it all off."
Strand after strand of hair fell and formed a mounting pile by the chair as her shoulder length hair was reduced to a cute, easy pixie cut. It made her face pop and she had never felt freer. There had been so many changes, but this time when the stylist put that mirror in her hand she was happier than she had ever been. She truly felt lionhearted.
It was when she got up from the chair and went to leave the salon that Emily looked up at the ceiling and promptly passed out.
Chapter Seven: Room 109
Machines buzzed, tubes came and went from her body, and Emily was still unconscious when the emergency personnel went through her phone to look for someone to contact. Not seeing any I.C.E. or emergency contact, they hit redial and hoped for the best.
"Please don't let it be Chinese takeout service," the technician whispered.
"Hello Emily?" Holden breathlessly answered, knowing she had called earlier but hung up before he reached the phone.
"Sir, this is a medical technician at Mercy University Hospital. We've got an Emily Heart here and can't locate any emergency contact for her. You were the last one she called. Could you come down, that is if you're friends or family of Emily?"
"I'll be right there." Holden was already pulling on pants and locking up the apartment as he bolted out the door.
He made record time as he busted through the glass doors at the entry to the hospital. He rambled up to the counter and asked for her room.
A tired, overworked desk clerk typed the name into the computer and said "Room 109" without a bother of looking up at him.
Down the hall, to the left, he walked peering at the small signs that led him to the room. He stood outside it, not knowing whether to knock or walk in. He chose the latter.
"Emily?" he asked into the darkness of the room.
He could then see her there, lying helpless in the bed. He looked around, but nothing offered him clues to why she was there.
Carefully and quietly, he walked back out and asked a nurse that was passing by as to her condition.
"Family?"
"No, I'm a friend and..." Holden began, trying to explain.
"Sorry, we can't divulge patient information outside of the family." She said as she grabbed her charts and kept walking.
Holden's blood pressure started to rise and he paced up and down the hall, keeping the growl of his bear to a minimum. He was seething at what was occurring. They could call him to come down there, but not tell him what was happening? This would not do.
He walked down to the nurse's station and casually asked the first one he saw there the same question.
"Family?" he was asked again. This time he was ready.
"Yes." He lied.
The nurse explained that Emily's blood tests were showing dangerously low levels of red blood cel
ls and double the normal white cell counts. She was anemic, in the middle of a raging infection, and it was taking its toll on her prognosis.
"Which is?" Holden asked the nurse.
"Same as it was, Sir, she's got about six months. Probably less now. I'm sorry." She offered, placing her hand on his shoulder as she went back to her station.
Holden didn't know what to think or feel. There laid his mate, the one he was supposed to be with, unconscious and with precious few months left to live.
The vow is damned.
