One More Day (9 page)

"Yeah, I'd love to be able to afford a place like this."

Ryan chuckled.  "You know you made about three hundred bucks each day just in designs?"

"What?"

"Yeah.  If you still want to do this, when you're feeling a bit better, we'll teach you how to tattoo.  Not easy to find someone that can just craft a design like you do.  Once you learn how to handle the gun, you'll be amazing."

She thought about it for a while, trying to envision herself as a tattoo artist.  Oddly, she could see it.  She wouldn't be like Colby, she'd be like Ryan, soft, understated, and inspirational.  Pulling the blanket across her hip, she nodded into the pillow.

"Yeah, I think I'd actually kinda like that."

"Then it's a deal."  Triggering the recliner, his feet raised and his head lowered.  Then, he shifted her just a bit closer before grabbing the remote and pressing play.  His hand rested gently across her elbow as she watched the first frames of the movie, his thumb trailing lazily against her arm.

Chapter 9

Colby found them like that, passed out, a few hours later.  His soft laugh made Mack stir, but wasn't enough to wake her.  Ryan groaned as he opened his eyes.

"Dude, you have that back piece in an hour," Colby reminded him.

"Yeah.  Quiet downstairs?"

"Yep.  Think you can slip out of there without waking her?"

Ryan glanced down at Mack, curled against his leg.  Smiling at her fondly, he nodded.  Carefully lifting the pillow, he somehow managed to not only extract himself from beneath her, but also return the reclining end of the couch back to the normal position.

"You know," Colby teased, "she thinks you're pretty nice to look at, man."

Ryan shrugged that off.  "She's getting some pretty good drugs.  I think it's fucking with her mind a bit."

"Can't be.  She said that before she started the chemo."

"What?"  Ryan looked at Colby like he'd grown a second head.

"Her first day.  She also said she's not fucking her boss.  Just figured you'd wanna know."

"Whatever, man.  She can't.  Lemme put on some pants.  You gonna stay with her?"

Colby nodded and shooed Ryan into the other room.  He managed to dress, decided to make the bed quickly, then treat his caffeine addiction.  Hopefully the brewing coffee wouldn't smell too strong for Mack to bear.  With a massive cup filled to the brim, he left Colby watching movies, and shuffled down the stairs into the shop below.  By the time Tony, the client, arrived, Ryan looked almost human.

"Party too hard?" Tony asked, pulling his shirt off and laying across the tattoo bed.

"I fuckin' wish," Ryan replied.  "Had to take Mack to chemo this morning.  They start that shit before the crack of dawn, I swear."

"Mack?  Who's he?"

Tony had been coming to Sterling Ink for nearly three years.  He said he trusted Ryan's work, and only Ryan's work.  He had enough bad tattoos to cover up that he evidently knew what he was talking about.  They'd spent countless hours together, and Tony had become one of his preferred clients.

"Her, the girl that finished up your design."  Ryan laid his tools out beside him.  This was going to take a few hours at least.  "You know, cute thing at the front desk."

"Oh, yeah," Tony agreed.  "She new?"

"Started last week.  Took me a while to snag her talent.  She's fucking amazing."

"Yeah, and nice to look at," Tony agreed.  "I like a girl with some curves on her.  Sucks that she's got cancer.  How bad?"

Ryan sighed, his eyes glued to the art he was etching into the man's skin.  "Not good, but not too bad.  I think she said they gave her a 60% chance of a full recovery."

Tony nodded slightly, trying not to move too much.  "Seemed like a nice kid.  Think she'd be pissed if I brought flowers?"

"Not if they don't smell.  Chemo is jacking with her pretty hard.  Something she loves one day?  The smell of it can make her puke for an hour the next.  I bet she'd like that, though.  Not a whole lot of people trying to do nice things for her, ya know?"

"Shit, really?" Tony asked.  "Sweet thing like her, I figured everyone would be trying to make this a bit easier."

"Not really anyone else.  Guess her dad's a trucker, and doesn't sound like she's too close to him."

"How'd you get neck deep in it, then?"  Tony looked over his shoulder, a teasing grin on his face.

"Got her to tell us why she was puking in the garbage can," Ryan said with a shrug.  "She was trying to take the damned bus to her treatments, can you believe that shit?"

"Damn.  Fucking give her my number man.  She needs a ride and someone to sit with her, I'll make the time.  Don't really know her, but no one should go through that shit alone."

Ryan nodded.  "I'll tell her.  She won't take you up on it, not unless you give her no other option.  She's strong willed like that."

The conversation eventually turned to other things.  They talked about their bikes - both were sport bike enthusiasts - and anything else that came to mind, killing time while the pigment spread slowly across his back.  It was over an hour later when Ryan heard the sound of someone in the other room.

"Hey?" Colby asked, peeking his head around the corner.  "You know where Mack left that piece she was working on?"

"It's in my office," Ryan said.  "How's she doing?"

Colby chuckled.  "Good.  She's in a fucking mood, though.  She's decided she's going to shave her head, and nothing's going to fucking stop her."

"It's all going to fall out anyway," Mack said, walking around the corner.  She paused when she saw Tony laying face down on the table.  "Sorry, didn't know we had clients."

"I don't fucking count anymore," Tony said with a laugh. 

Mack stood there in a pair of men's sweat pants and a baggy T-shirt, with her hair tied in a knot at the back of her head.  She'd left her shoes upstairs, and her little white feet poked out from the bottom of the too long legs.  Ryan looked her over, but turned away before she could see the grin.

"Nice to see you've made yourself comfortable," he teased.

"Sorry, Ryan.  I'll go put on some real clothes and see if I can catch up on work."

"Relax," he said.  "It's just Tony.  He's in here every other week."

"Hell, I even know what's upstairs," Tony added.  "You got clippers here Ryan?"

"Yeah."

Tony looked over at Mack.  "You sure it's gonna fall out?"

"Shit," she said.  "You tell everyone?"

Ryan just nodded.  "I did, and I will, so you don't have to.  I'm sorry, babe.  You won't be able to hide it soon."

With a sigh, she sank into the leather tattooing chair beside them.  "Right," she said softly.

"You do tattoos too?" Tony asked, hoping to distract her.

Mack just shook her head.  "No."

"Wanna?"

She just lifted her hands.  The guys could all see that each blow to her pride was more damaging than the effects of the drugs.  She'd been putting on a brave face, but it was only held there with the most delicate of strings.  For two days now, she'd been pampered and spoiled in every way they could think of, but it hurt as much as it helped.  She was losing her independence, and hated every second of it.  That's when Tony spoke up.

"Let her try," he told Ryan.  "There's that big spot in the middle.  I don't think you got there yet?"

"You sure, man?  She's never even held the irons before."

"She makes a mess of it, and I'm pretty sure you can fix it.  If she can draw like that, there's no way she can be as bad as some of this shit I already put on me."

The lines sketched on his back made the design obvious.  Tony looked over to Mack, and waved her to come closer.

"I can't," she said.  "I'm not messing up your tattoo."

"Pretty sure you won't mess it up, and this way I can say that I was the first person you inked.  C'mon babe, indulge me."

"I'll help," Ryan assured her.  He patted the stool, smiling at her.  "Come sit, and let's show you how this works."

"Really?"  She sounded almost hopeful.

"In trade, I get to cut a strip off your hair," Tony said.

She finally began to brighten, a smile teasing her face.  "Ok, but don't let me screw anything up?"

"Not gonna happen," Colby said.  "You got this, Mack.  Tony's cool, he won't even wiggle."

She moved to the stool, and Colby passed her a pair of purple gloves, gesturing for her to put them on.  They were a bit too big, but she could still manage to work the equipment.  With a shy smile, Ryan pointed out where she'd be working, and gave her a run down on the concept.  He passed her the tattoo machine, then reached around her, helping to support it, one hand resting lightly over hers.

"I'm going to guide you," he said softly, his mouth next to her ear.  "Ok, let's turn this on, and it's going to shiver a bit."

With Tony laying as still as a cadaver, Ryan showed her how to rest her hand against him, and the amount of pressure needed.  She relaxed, letting the machine flow in her hand as easily as a pen, and with each line, he helped less. 

"Fill that in just like you would with a pen," he said, giving her complete control.  "You doing ok down there Tony?"

"Yep," he said.  "Keep going, Mack."

She did, wiping away the excess ink, and dipping the gun.  Ryan watched her start to smile and the look that came into her eyes as she saw the art, felt it, rather than simply traced it.  He pointed to a line, and Mack expanded, moving away from the small area she'd started with, knowing the design she'd created.  She didn't last long, in just ten minutes, she lifted the machine away from his skin.

"I'm going to start shaking soon," she said glancing up at Ryan.

He nodded and took the contraption from her hands, laying it carefully on the table.  With a smile, he wiped the excess ink from Tony's skin, and showed her.  The lines were clean and clear, but the filled area was a bit splotchy.

"See this," he said, pointing to it.  "Takes a bit of practice, but not bad for your first try, Mack.  Lemme clean that up a bit, and we'll show Tony."

He didn't kick her out of the stool though.  Leaning beside her, he smoothed out the shading, well aware that she was watching intently.  With a pat on the shoulder, Ryan released his best client from the bed, pointing at the full length mirror. 

"Damn," Tony said.  "Can't even tell where she picked up and you stopped.  Nice, Mack."

"Really?" she asked.

"He doesn't give empty compliments," Ryan assured her.  "Go grab something to drink, and I'll finish the rest of this."

She couldn't help it; she sighed.  "Seriously?"

"Yeah," he said.  "Chemo's gonna kick your ass if you don't stay hydrated.  And go take your meds, too."

"Damn," Tony laughed.  "I think you've been told, Mack."

"Sounds like it," she agreed.  But as she stood, she rubbed her hand across Ryan's shoulder, smiling at him appreciatively before walking out of the room.

"Nice kid," Tony said.

"Yeah," Ryan agreed.  "If she decided to start tattooing, she's going to be good."

"Don't think she will?"

Ryan sighed.  "Man, girls like that?  They don't get into this line of work.  They design ads or have big showings in museums.  You should have seen the art in her place.  Massive oil paintings!  I mean, it was like stepping into Never Never land."

"You gonna get her to hang some of that shit in here?  Maybe break up the monotony of your work?" Tony teased.

Ryan thought about it.  "Not a bad idea, actually.  Now I just gotta figure out how to get her moved."

"Moved?"

He knew Tony was watching, so nodded.  "Yeah.  Gonna move her upstairs.  Her fucking apartment isn't renewing her lease, and no way we're letting her go through this without one of us around, ya know?"

"Right.  You haven't leased out the third floor in ten years, man.  You just have a thing for hard luck cases?"

Ryan chuckled.  "Not most of them."

"Just this one?"

That was when Ryan decided it was a good time to focus on what he was doing.  He flicked his eyes up, and saw Tony grinning back, so sighed.  "She and I used to hit up the coffee shop next door for lunch.  Same time every day for damned near a year."

"Yeah.  So while she's new to the shop, you've been friends a while?"

"Not exactly," Ryan admitted.  "I do have an entire sketch pad of her though.  You tell her that shit, and I'll trash your next tattoo."

Tony chuckled.  "Not coming from my lips, Ryan."

"Thing is, I never could come up with the nerve to talk to her.  Just couldn't convince myself, so I'd watch her draw over the edge of my book, wondering what she was working on.  Then, one day, she just looked like her world was falling apart, and I got the balls to ask if she was ok.  When she got laid off that afternoon, it was like the universe was trying to slap me upside the head."

"And now she's moving into your place.  Sounds like it was meant to be."

"That's different."

Tony shifted, and Ryan looked up, surprised to see the older man's face completely serious.  "She's not going to get better for a while, Ryan.  She's going to get worse.  Sixty percent recovery, means there's a forty percent chance she won't make it.  Stop fucking around, man."

"Already fucked that up, Tony," he said turning his attention back to the last of the tattoo.  "Hired her.  I'm a good fucking friend some days, and her boss on others, but she's gonna make it through this."

"Right.  So, you boys have a truck?"

"What?" Ryan asked.

"To move her.  I can run over there with Colby tomorrow afternoon, if you don't have him booked.  I mean, I'll have to drop off a present for her, so I'll be here anyway, right?"

"Thanks, man," Ryan said.  "Been trying to think of who I could convince to help out.  She's got her first radiation in the morning, and only two weeks to get moved."