Free The Strongest Steel by Scarlett Cole Page B

garbage or keeping a library book past its due date.”
    Trent laughed, loving her sense of humor.
    “So you’re agreeing with the hot chick part?”
    “No! I mean … crap … no … definitely not!” Flustering Harper was way too fun. It could become a permanent occupation.
    “And I loved the pastry thank-you. You can bring those any day of the week.” He laughed as Harper blushed. “Well, as the saying goes, life isn’t about finding yourself, it’s about creating yourself. Ready to be re-created as a bad-ass?”
    Now her eyes were shining bright. “As ready as I’ll ever be. You ready to show me how amazing you are at this?”
    “Always,” he said, grinning at her. “One amazing, bad-ass tattoo coming right up.”
    *   *   *
    “I think there’s one more thing you need to do before we get started.” Trent leaned a long mirror up against the wall.
    “And that would be?”
    The warmth of his fingers jolted her as he wrapped them around her wrists. “Don’t panic when I say this. Just hear me out.”
    The tone of his voice unsettled her.
    “You need a before.”
    “A what?”
    “A before … a photograph … to compare to the after. To see how far you have come.”
    “NO!” The idea was curdling in her stomach. Feeling chilled, she grabbed for her T-shirt. “I have twenty different angles from the trial. I don’t need another view.”
    “You do,” he said, reaching to brush her hair behind her ear. “This is for you. Just you. No one will ever see it if you don’t want them to.”
    “I can’t … I don’t…” Panic was closing in. Her chest was tightening.
    “Someday you’re going to make your peace with this, sweetheart. It’ll be a painful step that shaped the incredible person that you are. You’ll be proud of your own strength and determination, and you’ll wish you had your own record of this very moment. When you changed the path you were on.”
    Harper looked at Trent. She could feel the sincerity radiating from him, and realized he was right. She took her phone from her back pocket.
    “Please don’t make me regret trusting you,” she said, handing it to him.
    “Never.”
    Photograph taken and outlines applied to her back, Harper clung to the hoodie she was currently wearing back-to-front over her bikini top. It was Trent’s suggestion, and a comfort to not feel so exposed, even if the hood dangling down her front felt strange.
    Looking in the mirror, she twisted slightly and tried to make sense of the purple ink from the transfer that covered most of her back. The sticky goo Trent had put there before applying the transfer, which he’d said would help the lines stay in place while he tattooed her, had dried.
    “Here,” he said, turning her to face him. “Look.” By putting the second mirror he’d retrieved in front of her, Harper could see her full back. Holy crap, the tattoo was huge.
    The veins of the purple outline looked strange, like a river network crisscrossing her back, but the sword and the text stood out, looking just as beautiful as she’d hoped they would.
    Tears welled in her eyes. She was really going to do this. After four years, the evidence of Nathan’s hold on her would be physically eliminated, the impact emotionally diminished.
    She hadn’t been joking when she said she hadn’t wanted a tattoo before this. So many of the tattoos she’d seen at the inner city school where she’d taught had been gang related. So many children had been getting tattooed by unlicensed and unethical tattoo artists willing to permanently mark underage kids.
    This was different. Just looking at the lines about to be etched on her skin made her light-headed. Her heart pounded in response to the adrenaline buzz. Was this what everyone felt in that moment before their skin was changed irrevocably? A strange acceptance of the permanence of things, especially those that could not be undone. Her skin tingled with anticipation, and she shivered slightly despite