Page 16 of Haven

Seven hours later, all three tattoos were done, and I must say, the eyes were some of my best work. Bree got in front of Jo as she held her forearm up to her face to get a comparison picture for my IG. I would get a better picture once it healed more, but damn, I did a hell of a job.

“And now you can tell you’re queer with your berries and Bree’s eyes.”

“You’re a badass, Rory,” Bree chimed. “Thank you. Now keep the tip this time or I’ll shove it down your bra. Consensually, of course.”

I rolled my eyes with a smirk. “Hey, if you want to see my boobs, just ask.”

K.ARIEL

Hi! I love your tattoos and I am dying to get some scars covered on my back. Can we plan an appointment?

MISFITRORY

Hey! Thank you! We can definitely work on something together. My schedule is a bit crazy, but I can squeeze you in three months from now?

K.ARIEL

That's perfect. I can get money saved up, too. I’ll send you designs and ideas. Do you need to see my back?

MISFITRORY

It’s easier to work with scars in person. I will say I’m not sure how well the tattoo will sit, but we can always try :)

K.ARIEL

Of course! Thank you so much! I can’t wait!!

I finished cleaning my shop and went through my books to make sure I had the timing correct. Most of my clients were regulars because my schedule varied. If I booked a new client, I made sure to put them in my spreadsheet and set reminders because I had the memory the size of a pea.

Now it was time for therapy.

Fifteen

Rory

Dr. Isabelle Griffith was a godsend and, my God, this woman needed more money. I told her it was an emergency, but not the I would kill myself if I didn’t talk to you kind of emergency.

Izzy—she gave me permission to call her that—was dressed down in jeans and a Georgia state tee with her auburn hair in a messy bun. The look reminded me of the girls I hated in college, but she was an angel. Izzy smiled at me before adjusting her notepad.

“Are you ready to dive into this downward spiral and splatter at rock bottom?” I had to use humor or else I would cry.

She arched her brow. “Did I just join a suicide pact?”

“We can sign it in blood right now.” I sighed. I had to be careful with Izzy. While we had a friendship, she was still my psychiatrist and the best goddamn therapist I knew. Too much humor would lead to a three-day grippy sock vacation. I came here to rip the Band-Aid off. “Okay. So I am fine. Definitely didn’t sleep with a hot stranger who happens to be an enemy and think about her for the last two weeks.”

She tipped her head, her brow inching up as she studied me curiously. “Was it impulsive? Did you sleep before this choice was made?”

“I mean aren’t one-night stands normally impulsive?” I laughed. “And I did have maybe three hours of sleep before I went to enemy territory. I also might’ve sorta kinda got triggered before I went to the bar.”

She set her pen down. “Uh huh. And what was your mindset at that moment?”

“That I needed to get out.”

“So then you went to the bar when you were already triggered and sleep-deprived?” When she said it like that, it sounded horrible. “Are you sure it wasn’t an impulsive choice to distract yourself from what was going on in your mind?”

“Nope.” I answered with unwavering confidence. “I didn’t sleep with her to have control of what happened. I wanted to. When I walked into the bar, I saw her and the connection was instant. I like sex, but I am also picky. Plus, she made the first move.”

She scribbled in her notepad. “Any regrets?”