Fifteen Months Later

The small bell rang overhead, a tiny metallic jingling that signaled their arrival. Cold air from an overworked air conditioner washed over him, drying the sweat that had formed on his skin during the small walk from the truck to the building.

Zach closed the door behind Haley and watched as she looked around, taking everything in. The overstuffed chairs in the small lobby. The battered portfolios resting on the small table in the middle of the room. The art work hanging from the walls, showcased behind simple glass frames.

Haley spun in a slow circle, taking it all in, then looked up at him, her eyes wide in her pale face.

"You sure about this, Red?"

She nodded, the motion short, definite. Determined. "I'm sure."

"Then why do you look like you're ready to pass out?"

"I'm not!"

"Really? Because you sure as hell look it."

She playfully swatted him on the arm, a smile flashing across her face. "I'm not going to pass out. I'm just—is it going to hurt?"

"A little, yeah. They're using needles, you know. But where you're getting it shouldn't be too bad."

She swallowed, the sound a little too loud. Then she clenched her jaw and nodded, her spine lengthening as she straightened. Ready to face the unknown, ready to fight for what she wanted.

Not that there was going to be any fighting involved.

The curtains leading to the back room opened as Warren Small, the owner of the tattoo parlor, came out to greet them. Contrary to his name, he was a big bear of a man, taller than Zach by a good four inches, and a hell of a lot wider. A thick gray beard grew from his square jaw, long enough to hang in front of his neck and take attention away from his gleaming bald head. Light glinted off the diamond stud in his left ear and the various buttons pinned to the black leather motorcycle vest he wore.

A broad smile creased his wide face as shockingly blue eyes met Zach's. "Hey, Mummy. I was worried you might have changed your mind."

"No, not yet. Just hit some traffic coming through town." He stepped closer to Haley and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You remember Haley."

"Of course. You never forget your first ones, right?" Warren's mammoth hand closed over Haley's for a brief yet gentle shake. "Come on back. I think you're going to like the final art work."

They pushed through the curtains and moved to the back room, where two stations were set up and ready to go. Warren's business partner, Seth, was sprawled in one of the chairs, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He jumped up and smiled, introducing himself.

Haley nodded, her gaze moving to the padded table set up to the side. She glanced over her shoulder, her brows pulled down in an uncertain frown. Zach reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"You don't have to go through with it, you know."

"I know. But I want to."

Zach was ready to ask her again if she was sure, but Warren was beside them, showing them the finished art work he had designed. Haley gasped in surprise, her hand reaching out to trace the intricate lines.

"They're beautiful."

"That's what I like to hear." Warren placed the sketches to the side then lowered himself to one of the stools. "Since this is your first one, do you have any questions?"

"How long will it take?"

"Yours will be about two to three hours, depending on how many breaks you need. Zach's shouldn't be quite as long since he's not getting any color."

Haley nodded, some of the uncertainty leaving her. "Is it going to hurt?"

"I'd be lying if I said you weren't going to feel anything. And everyone's pain tolerance is different. Generally speaking, though, where you're having it done, it shouldn't be too bad. Can I see the scar again?"

Haley unbuttoned the blouse and shrugged it over her shoulders, revealing the tube top she had worn underneath just for today. Warren snapped on a black glove then slid a little closer to her. He tossed a look at Zach, like he was asking permission.

Or maybe gauging Zach's reaction to make sure he wasn't going to do something stupid like get all jealous and possessive.

He nodded, letting Warren know he was fine. This was about Haley's tattoo, there was nothing sexual about it—even if it was near her breast.

Warren reached out and traced the scar with the tip of his finger, pushing in and around the edges. "Any pain? Nerve damage?"

"Not anymore, no."

"Sensitivity?"

Haley shot a glance at Zach, her face flushing a delicate pink. "Um...sometimes."

Warren chuckled and smiled at Zach. "Lucky man. But I don't think you have to worry about that today after we get started. So—you all set?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Haley, you don't have to—"

She stepped toward him, her fingers pressing against his mouth to silence him. "I want to. I'm tired of seeing it, Zach. And I don't want you to remember what happened every time you see it, every time you look at it."

"Haley, I don't—"

"You do. And you try so hard to hide it, I know you do. But it hurts to see you hurting. I want this. For you. For me. It's a new memory for us, something we can share together." She glanced at the art work resting on Warren's table, then gave him a smile so sweet, his heart swelled. "A new beginning."

Zach nodded then pulled her closer, holding her tight, unable to talk around the lump in his throat. Would she ever stop surprising him?

No, not Haley.

The matching tattoos were her idea—a wedding gift.

A single phoenix for each of them, rising from the ashes of the past, soaring ahead into the future. Black ink for him, bold and strong. Graceful lines and bright colors for Haley, vibrant and carefree.

A final symbol of their new life together.

Zach pressed a kiss against the top of her head then helped her onto the table before taking his own seat. He reached for her hand, his thumb grazing the smooth gold band on her finger, a reminder of the start of yet another new journey.

Together.

###

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