Helena Hunting: Inked Armour

I hadn’t known that night was the beginning of the end for me. Without her I was in a worse place than I was before her arrival in my life, and now I had no vices.

“You’ve been busy,” Jamie observed in his quiet, nonjudgmental way.

“Helps pass the time when I can’t sleep.”

Lisa moved closer, staring at the framed drawings. It made me feel exposed to have her inspect them. Mine were the only eyes they were meant for.

“Did Tenley see these?”

Even hearing her name hurt. “Only the one in the middle.”

I wanted to rewind my life three weeks. I would have kept her naked in my bed instead of retrieving TK from her apartment; the cat would’ve survived a night without food. Then maybe her not-quite brother-in-law wouldn’t have taken her away.

But it hadn’t panned out that way. Tenley had left me. When she returned, there was no certainty I would still factor in as part of her equation. Based on her lack of communication, I assumed we were through.

I was a head case. She’d been gone almost half as long as we’d been together, but I didn’t seem to be getting over her well. “I’m gonna get cleaned up. Help yourself to a drink if you want one. You know where everything is.”

That drained feeling took over again as I crossed through my bedroom to the bathroom. I turned on the water and returned to the bedroom, where I stripped out of my clothes, then separated them into the color-coded laundry hampers before I returned to the bathroom. I checked to make sure it was hot and got under the spray.

Twenty minutes later I was clean, shaved, and dressed. Normally I would do the tie-and-collared-shirt thing for events at Cassie’s, but jeans and a button-down was all I could manage.

I found TK in her usual spot: on my bed, curled up against Tenley’s pillow. “I’ll be back later,” I said, scratching under her chin.

Before we left, I changed her water and put some food in her dish. When we reached the street, Chris and Sarah were standing by the car door. Talk about feeling like a fifth wheel. I almost did an about-face back into my building.

“You take the front seat, Hayden, there’s more legroom,” Lisa said, climbing into the back after Sarah.

I folded myself into the passenger seat, appreciating the way Chris had to pretzel himself in behind me, even when I pulled my seat forward.

As we made the short trip to the outskirts of the city where Cassie and Nate lived, Lisa and Sarah talked about some spa bullshit they’d organized. If Tenley were still here, they would have hijacked her for the expedition.

Cassie and Nate lived in a Century home at the north end of Chicago, close to the water. We parked in their driveway and everyone filed out, except for Chris. He grunted an expletive as he held on to the door and heaved. It was like watching someone extricate himself from a clown car. I smiled.

“You”—he pointed at me—“get to sit in the back on the way home.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t have the common sense to buy a vehicle with doors, since it snows five months out of the year.”

“I don’t need a steel box—my girl’s got one.” He wrapped an arm around Sarah and pulled her to his side.

The low thwack and the chastising whisper that followed irked me and I looked away. I hated that I was too fucking sensitive to deal with their happiness. Crossing the stone drive to the front steps, I rang the doorbell.

I’d stopped going over to Serendipity after Tenley left. Cassie had to hire another part-time employee in her place, at least it wasn’t a girl this time. Cassie said it was just for the holiday season, but I couldn’t deal with seeing someone else sitting behind the cashier’s desk. So Lisa and Jamie made all the coffee runs now. Cassie didn’t send her new employee by with deliveries for me, either, which was a relief. That might have pushed me over the edge.

Instead Cassie brought the books over herself, one at a time, ensuring biweekly visits. I accepted them, aware she was checking up on me. I didn’t allow her to corner me in private, though, because I knew what the conversation would consist of, and I couldn’t go there.

Cassie answered the door as though she’d been waiting by the window for us to show up. “Hayden! I’m so glad you came.” She threw her arms around me, hugging me fiercely.

“Lisa didn’t give me much of a choice.” I patted Cassie back. The contact felt foreign and uncomfortable.

“You’ve lost weight. Are you eating? Can I get you something?”

This was why I’d refused to come. I didn’t want pity or concern.

“I’m good for now, thanks.”

She pulled me inside, allowing the others to enter the vestibule. The attention shifted away from me as she greeted everyone, giving hugs, making chitchat. Nate came out of the sitting room, a glass of scotch in his hand. I shed my shoes and coat and headed for him. We did the handshake/back-pat thing.

“How are you?” he asked, looking at me the same way everyone else did these days.

“Fine. I need a drink, though.”

I skirted around him and went to the bar, pouring myself a healthy dose of scotch. Nate always had the good stuff. I didn’t bother with ice because I didn’t want to water it down. I took a seat and sipped my drink, working on keeping my hands steady.

Beers were opened, wine was poured, appetizers set out; everyone got comfortable, couples cuddling up on various pieces of furniture. Conversation went on around me as I watched my scotch disappear—talk of Christmas plans, New Year’s celebrations, organizing last-minute shopping trips. On and on. Around and around. And none of it mattered. It was nothing I wanted to be part of.

I wondered what Tenley was doing, whether she had plans for the holidays. She probably had friends back in Arden Hills who wanted to spend time with her; people she’d left behind. Or maybe she’d be back here by then. I’d get her a present just in case, even if she didn’t want to be with me anymore.

I set my glass down and headed for the stairs, too fidgety to stay still any longer. The railing was smooth beneath my palm as I climbed the spiraling case. Sometimes stairs made me uneasy.

Beyond the smells, the climb to the second floor was the thing I remembered most vividly from the night of my parents’ murders. The slow ascent as I tried to stealthily get to my bedroom before I woke them up. Mischief’s warning meows as I reached the landing. The endless hallway. The unusual slice of light coming from under their bedroom door. And the rank odor of death followed by the horrifying visual when I pushed it open, knowing something was wrong.

When I reached the top, I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. I peeked in every room and stopped at the one that had been mine during my brief stay with Cassie and Nate. I sat down on the edge of the bed, exhaustion sweeping over me. The last three weeks had been a constant roller coaster of anxiety, and the stress had worn me down. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, but eventually someone knocked.

Nate pushed the door open. “I thought you might be up here.”

“I needed a breather.”

“You mind some company?” He handed me the glass I’d left downstairs, refilled.

When I shrugged, he sat next to me. He leaned forward, his elbows rested on his thighs as he swirled his drink, ice cubes clinking against the crystal.

I waited for him to say something. Nate was the kind of guy who laid it all out there. It had been a problem for me when I’d stayed with them before. He wanted me to talk about what I went through. When I told him about the nightmares back then, he insisted I see a shrink—someone other than him, who could have an impartial view. I refused. Not long after I turned eighteen, I moved out, and things had gone downhill fast from there. With no one to enforce any boundaries, I went off the rails. It had taken a good two years before my head came out of my ass.