did things for people out of the kindness of his heart. The least she could do was learn from him.
"You know that phoenix you were drawing?" he asked, looking up at her.
"Yeah. I started it the day they confirmed it was cancer."
He nodded. "Finish it. It'd look pretty good on your hip, and wouldn't ruin your chances of getting a job."
"I have a job," she reminded him, "and my boss assured me that he wouldn't fire me for getting sick on my fifth day."
"Not gonna happen. I mean, you don't have to ink it, but finish it. Shit, if you don't want it, I'll get it done."
"Lemme think about it. It wouldn't be good for a small piece, and the idea of something that large for my first tattoo is a bit intimidating."
"Yeah. And we have to wait until your surgery is done anyway. Would hate to have them cut the wing off and not put it back right."
"You could fix it," she said.
"I would, but easier to wait."
"I also need to fix your chameleon," she said reaching up to point at his arm. "Turn this way."
With a shrug, he slid around so that his left arm was closest to her. With the medication slowly making her feel immersed in water, she traced her finger across his shoulder blade.
"The body should go here, but the tail? It needs to wrap around this way," she said, drawing a line around his bicep. "Put it under the frog's branch, and around the gryphon's nest"
"How'd you know that was a gryphon?"
"Because the meaning changed. From the back, you're saying you need to be what people expect. From the front, it's nothing but dreams and fantasies."
"You're the first one that's understood," he said softly. "Now close your eyes, Mack. Stop fighting it."
"Yeah," she agreed, doing just that. Man, cancer wore her out.
She wasn't quite asleep when she felt him slip his hand in hers, his thumb brushing against her knuckles as the poison dripped into her veins. She closed her hand, holding him there, honestly thankful to not be alone in this.
Chapter 8
A warm hand caressed her face. "Mack," he whispered. "Time to get you home, sweetie. How do you feel?"
"I'm ok," she said, releasing his hand to rub at her face.
"Do you know any other answer?" he teased. "The nurse wants to take out the catheter."
"What time is it?" She laid her arm up on the chair.
"Just after noon," the nurse said. "Ryan, you know she's probably going to be nauseous again, right?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Hit her about four hours after last time."
"Just have her take the anti-nausea medication before the stuff in her IV wears off, and it shouldn't be as bad."
Mack looked back and forth between them, her mind trying to keep up. "More puking?"
"Not if I can help it," he promised. "We also have to stop by your place."
She shook her head. "You need to get to work."
The nurse spoke up at that. "She really should have someone with her, if she was as sick as you said."
He just nodded, his eyes still on Mack. "Colby's got the shop. Worst case, you can sit in the office and puke in the trash, deal?"
The nurse tried again, "She really should - "
He cut her off, but kindly. "My apartment's over the shop. There'll be two of us. Trust me, she'll be pampered."
"Fuck," Mack breathed. "Don't let Colby babysit me. He'd make me drink the damned kool-aid."
"So will I," Ryan told her gently.
"Yeah, but you're nice about it."
The nurse laughed at that. "You got a good boyfriend, Mackenzie. Don't take him for granted."
"Nope," Mack agreed with a little giggle. "Super Hot Guy's awesome."
"You give her something else in there too?" Ryan asked.
"Valium. Her doctor requested something for anxiety for at least the first week."
"Gotcha. C'mon babe. They're turning you loose, but you have to make it out of the chair."
Feeling as if she was struggling with every muscle, Mack sat up. She paused, and then pushed herself all the way to her feet. Ryan was right there with his