The guy, who introduced himself as Dean, gestured to the chair. “Alright, hop up here, and we’ll get started.”

Beverly climbed onto the chair without hesitation, even though I could see a slight tension in her posture. I stayed on my feet, my eyes darting around the room as I tried to process every single logical concern in my mind.

Dean snapped on a pair of black gloves. “You eaten today?”

Beverly nodded and lifted her shirt just enough to expose her stomach. “Yeah.”

I scoffed. “She had a Pop-Tart.”

He shrugged. “Should be fine.”

“Should be?” I repeated. “Not is?”

He ignored me, unwrapping a fresh needle.

I watched Beverly squirm in the chair a little, clearly not as excited about the whole situation now that the reality of the needle was setting in. She tried to mask her nerves with a smile, but I knew she was holding her breath.

“You want a butterfly charm on the jewelry, right?” Dean asked, swabbing the area with something that smelled sterile but probably wasn’t.

Beverly grinned. “Yeah, a little dangly one.”

He nodded. “That’ll look good once it’s healed.”

“Isn’t a dangly one more likely to get caught on stuff?”

Beverly groaned. “Blake.”

The piercer chuckled. “Your boyfriend’s a worrier.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Beverly said quickly.

I ignored the sudden, unwelcome sting in my chest. “I just like to make sure she’s thinking things through.”

“Well, he’s right,” he admitted. “You’ll have to be extra careful with it.”

Beverly waved him off. “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright then.” He picked up the clamp and positioned it around her navel. Beverly tensed, and I could practically feel her heart rate increase. “Deep breath in,” he instructed.

I saw red. “B, you alright? Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she said, though her voice was a little higher-pitched than usual.

“And out.”

The needle slid through, and Beverly’s whole body stiffened, a sharp gasp slipping from her lips. Her fingers clenched the chair so hard her knuckles turned white.

I took a step forward, every single what if flashing through my mind, each one more unsettling than the last. “Hey, be careful.”

“I am. I’ve been doing this for years. She’s in good hands.”

Beverly cracked one eye open, her face twisted in a grimace. “Blake, shut up.”

I ignored her and asked him, “Are you sure that’s supposed to hurt that much?”

“It’s a needle going through skin,” he replied dryly. “What do you think?”

My jaw tightened.

I was suddenly considering the logistics of grabbing Beverly and running. “I think she’s in pain, and you should be gentler.”

“Oh my God.” Beverly groaned. “Do not yell at the man holding a needle in my stomach. Let him do his job.”