Free Clipped Wings by Helena Hunting Page A

unable to sleep. I paced around my living room, stared at the bookshelves, and pulled down the sketchbook.
    I flipped through the pages, stopping at a crudely drawn sketch of a silly tattoo I once wanted. I mentioned getting a tattoo for my eighteenth birthday in passing a couple of times to see what Connor would say. He didn’t seem to mind until I showed him the design, then he was adamantly opposed.
    I changed the design to something else and got it anyway, thinking it wasn’t a big deal and he’d get over it. It was just a tattoo, nothing too out there as far as I was concerned. The tiny heart was generic enough, although I wanted it black instead of red, just to make it different. The location made it easy to hide. Except from Connor, of course. I thought it was sexy. He didn’t. He was so upset with me when he saw the tattoo on my hip. The argument and tears that followed came with a forced promise not to desecrate my body again. I never expected that kind of reaction from him at the time. How naïve I was.
    I fingered the ladder of rings in my ear, another of my acts of rebellion. Connor hated those, too. His intolerance for anything that didn’t conform to socially sanctioned norms was a point of contention between us. From hair color to clothes, he always stayed safely inside the lines, and I always tried to see how much further I could push them. I thought our differences would have made us stronger; we balanced each other out. But in the end I took everything from him.
    Trey might have been right about relinquishing what had been given to me in the will. While I wasn’t ready to let go, part of me felt like it never should have been mine in the first place.
    My mother assured me that having cold feet was normal in the weeks preceding the wedding. Maybe she was wrong. If I hadn’t been so afraid of losing Connor, I might have confessed my doubts. But I was weak. Connor was gone now, and only I could be held accountable. All I wanted was to avoid all the hoopla that would have resulted if our mothers had been in charge. We never would have gotten on that plane if I hadn’t insisted on a destination wedding. In doing so, I sentenced everyone I loved to death.
    I turned to the last page in the book, tracing the delicate lines of the sketch I finished just days before I moved to Chicago. It was a representation of every soul I ripped from this earth, as well as the tattered state of my own. I might never be whole again, but I needed to find a way to release some of the guilt I carried so I could attempt to move forward. I was still stagnating, despite having left behind the unyielding reminders of what I’d lost. I thought leaving would help, but I was still struggling to find balance in Chicago.
    Maybe Hayden was right, maybe I needed to give in to the pain. The possibility that it could help put the past behind me made me want to set aside my fears over the feelings Hayden evoked. The potential for some sense of inner peace was too tempting. I was resolved. I would show him the design. I wanted a permanent reminder of everything I had lost because of my cowardice. It was the only way I could see that might allow me to heal.

7

HAYDEN
    I hadn’t seen Tenley in days. Well, that was a lie; I had seen her entering and leaving the antiques store on several occasions. But whenever I went through Serendipity under the pretense of buying my fourth coffee of the day from the adjoining café, she was nowhere to be found. There was a pretty good chance she was hiding after our chat in the basement. As Lisa patiently informed me, talking about genital piercings didn’t quite fit with polite conversation. I would be more conscious of discussion topics next time around. On the positive side, Cassie had to duck out early today. That would make it very difficult for Tenley to pull a disappearing act.
    It was early evening when my uncle Nate stopped by Inked Armor. He was still in a suit, so he must have come straight from