Page 103 of Under the Ink

Standing, he pulled her into his chest and just held her, letting her tears soak his t-shirt. And even when she once more demanded rough sex, he decided to let her do what she needed to do.

But the question tickled his brain: how could he save her when she seemed intent on destroying herself?

BOISE, IDAHO

SEPTEMBER 3

Naomi didn’t have much time before she had to head back to the venue—but, thanks to the map on her phone, she’d found a pharmacy nearby that she could walk to just a few minutes away.

As she marched over the long bridge, she found she couldn’t focus on the city. All the reasons she’d come on this tour dangled in the distance, no longer seeming relevant because her past was all up in her face.

In her heart.

In her soul…where it would never get out.

It had come to this, just as she’d feared—but it would be okay. Now, looking back, she could see that leaving Winchester wasn’t the answer. It wasn’t the answer at all. She’d been fooling herself and now she could see.

She wasn’t looking for a place away from her old hometown; she was trying to find a place that felt safe. And she’d had that in Winchester, hadn’t she? A routine, a best friend, people she knew, whether she liked them or not. Out here, she wasn’t safe. Her bunk didn’t have a lock on it. Nothing anywhere was familiar. And, while she could say she’d made some friends—Sage, Pat, and Johnny, for starters—she didn’t know that any of them knew the real her like Ginny.

Sage came close.

Reminding herself as she paused at an intersection that she was near the end of her obligation and that soon she’d be holding a plane ticket waiting for her return home, she told herself that she had just one more week.

She could make it.

Not without a little help, though.

Nothing else had been working—not the drinking, not the rough sex, not even talking about the past. In fact, she wondered if some of those things made it worse.

There was one thing she knew for a fact would help—because it hadalwayshelped. The one thing that had always saved her.

When she walked in the pharmacy, she scanned the aisles, finally finding the shaving aisle, but, as she scanned the shelves, she couldn’t find what she was looking for.

Theyhadto have them, didn’t they?

And she wouldn’t even care if other customers or the cashier knew why she was buying them, unlike if she’d done it in Winchester. These people didn’t know her and their judgment couldn’t hurt her.

Ah…there they were, resting in a clear lockbox. Picking it up, she stared at the package of razor blades through the plastic. When all else had failed and disappointed and angered and frustrated her, the thin steel blades had never let her down.

She welcomed the pain.

SAGINAW, MICHIGAN

SEPTEMBER 8

Because this would be their last night together, Sage needed to make one last attempt at getting through to Naomi. It had barely been more than a week ago that he’d tried to broach the subject…that he knew she was unraveling but that he was there to hold her hand.

Was he really, though? Tomorrow night, they’d be parting ways: Naomi back to Winchester and Sage to Toronto and wherever the hell else in Canada they were headed.

But maybe they didn’t have to permanently separate.

There was a chance he could convince her that they could be a good thing. Couldn’t they at least try?

First, he had to convince her that she needed help.

So as she lay in his arms in the cool hotel room, Sage cuddled her, wishing he could help her feel safe. As she slept with her head resting on his chest, he knew it was possible for her to find peace…because she didn’talwayshave nightmares.

What worried him, though, were the rows of horizontal lines on her upper arm, thin scabs formed by a knife or razor. She’d cut high, where her short sleeves would cover any evidence, and even in the dim glow of the lamp, Sage couldn’t actuallyseethe scabs inside the dark tattoo.

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