The Harder He Falls: 2 (So Inked) by Sidney Bristol Page A

this?”
    Kellie nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak yet, plus the lump in her throat would make it exceedingly difficult.
    Brian grabbed the Sharpie marker from the tray Kellie had laid out. “Asked the doctors myself.”
    Carly’s eyes had the bright, enthusiastic glint that characterized her before her accident. “Can we do it right now?”
    Pandora nodded. “Right now.”
    That was her cue. Kellie clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. They’d rehearsed this a little before the party. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please take a few steps back, we’re going to pull the curtain to give Pandora a little privacy.”
    Carly’s back was to the crowd, so they missed the crestfallen expression on her face, how her shoulders slumped and she sucked on her bottom lip. Sure the tattoo was something Carly would really want, but she didn’t have the ability to sit forward or move from the bed to the tattoo chair they’d packed away. She was completely and embarrassingly dependent on others.
    Kellie knew Carly wanted to work toward being more independent, even with her new limitations, but it was a long, hard road.
    Grabbing the edge of the curtain, which was tucked away in the lee of the hall, Kellie pulled it around Pandora’s station on a track hung from the ceiling. She didn’t look behind her, but she could hear the murmured counts of the nurses as they prepared to turn Carly on the bed and make her comfortable for the quick tattoo.
    Kellie had grown up with an active childhood. Her adult life was just as busy between work, family and her own workout routine. Or the workout routine she’d had before the last six months. Brian’s history, and now watching Carly, killed her and made her feel guilty for not being the one to get hurt instead. She’d sprained her shoulder and had a few bruises from that night, but nothing as bad as the others.
    After a few minutes, the curtain slid back and a paramedic poked his head out. “They’re ready.”
    She nodded and pulled the curtain back slowly, giving them enough time to tell her to stop. Carly lay on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, grin firmly in place.
    Kellie took up her spot next to Quin, strangely glad for his stoic show of support. There were enough people watching with pity etched on their faces.
    “Hungry?” he asked.
    As if in answer, her stomach rumbled. “Maybe.”
    “Do you have to stay around after? Want to grab some food?”
    She peered at him from the corner of her eye. It was odd. She towered over most men when she wore heels. With Quin, she looked him straight in the eye.
    “Maybe.” She wasn’t ready to say yes to anything that wasn’t strictly business with this man. Not yet.
    They watched as Pandora prepped Carly’s shoulder above her original tattoo, a picture taken from one of Brian’s band’s albums. Brian stepped in when she was ready and added his John Hancock to finish up the piece, and then Pandora began to go over his signature with ink of the permanent kind.
    No one knew whether Carly would walk again, but her life wasn’t over. She wasn’t done experiencing things, and at the shop she had a family that was here for her.
    “I’m hungry,” she said loud enough for Quin’s ears alone.
    He turned slowly to gaze at her.
    Carly wasn’t the only one who needed to live again.
    * * * * *
     
    Kellie shifted on the wooden bench, still restless. The evening breeze was cooler than normal thanks to a cold front blowing in. It was ridiculous that dropping into the nineties was considered a cool spell, but in the height of Texas summer, you took what you got. She swept her hair up into a knot and tipped her head back. The slight dampness of her skin, courtesy of the ever-present humidity, was a small price to pay for being able to sit outside. She’d shed the formfitting dress for jeans and a tank top and felt more like herself for it.
    “How hot does it get here?” Quin plunked down their dinner and sat on