The shop lights buzzed low as the last client left, the needle’s phantom echo still whispering in Dani’s ears. Her first full day back had been a whirlwind of muscle memory and emotional landmines. Every tattoo she worked, every sterilized needle, had been a piece of armor she forced back into place. Being back should’ve made her feel whole. Instead, it just made the absence clearer.
Jax had kept his distance—physically. Emotionally? He was everywhere. Each brush of air when he passed too close, each glance that lingered too long, each unsaid word. She could feel him watching like he was counting the moments until she finally unraveled. Maybe she already was.
The last chair was wiped down. The sterilizer hummed in the background. The others had left quietly, giving them space without say
