Helena Hunting: Inked Armour

“She’s been e-mailing you? For how long?” I asked. Unable to mask the goddamn hurt, I channeled it into anger.

They all shrank back, surprised by the outburst. Sarah and Lisa exchanged a look.

“Has she been in contact with you, too?” I looked from one to the other. Their guilty expressions were enough of an answer. I pinned Lisa with an accusatory glare. “Are you shitting me? You , of all people, kept this from me? You’re supposed to be my friend. Where’s your fucking loyalty?”

“We didn’t want to upset you,” Lisa explained.

Upset didn’t begin to cover it. I couldn’t believe Tenley had been in touch with everyone but me. “Fuck all of you.”

I shoved my feet in my shoes and grabbed my jacket from the closet.

“Hayden, wait!” Lisa called.

I spun around. “Don’t talk to me right now.”

“You need to check yourself, man,” Jamie said, coming up behind Lisa.

My eyes swung over to him as he moved in closer, probably worried about her safety. “Go fuck yourself.”

I wrenched the door open and stepped outside, slamming it behind me, but the release of aggression brought no satisfaction. It felt as if someone had dumped acid on my emotions. I passed Lisa’s Beetle and headed down the driveway. It was freezing out and I wasn’t dressed for the weather, but I didn’t care. I needed to get my ass far enough away to catch a bus or cab it home. I couldn’t be around any of them right now; I was too raw.

The door opened behind me and the thud of boots against the asphalt grew louder, so I picked up the pace.

“H! Hey, bro, hold up!” Chris called out.

Just what I needed. When his hand came down on my shoulder, I pushed it off and kept going. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Come on, man. I know you’re upset but you can’t walk all the way home.”

I wheeled around. “I sure as hell can. There’s no way I’m getting in that car with those two.”

“Tee only got in touch with Sarah last week. And it wasn’t to chat. She had some assignment that needed to be handed directly to her adviser, so she called in a favor.”

“What about Cassie and Lisa?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you come back in and you can ask them.”

I shook my head. “I need space.”

Chris didn’t follow me any farther. He knew when to leave me alone. I was too volatile, and it was best for everyone if I had time to cool off. A few minutes later, Nate’s black Mercedes pulled over ahead of me. The passenger-side window whirred as it descended, and he leaned across the seat and opened the door. “Why don’t you let me drive you home.”

He’d drive five miles an hour all the way to Inked Armor if I refused to get in. I dropped into the passenger seat and plugged in the seat belt.

“It’s okay if you’re angry,” he said as he pulled back onto the road.

“We’re not talking about this,” I snapped.

“That’s fine, too.”

I fiddled around with his radio, unable to tolerate the strained silence. All the stations were preset to ’70s rock.

“Can I just say one thing?”

“You’re going to anyway, so you might as well.” I stared out the window. I could see my reflection in the tinted glass every time we passed a streetlamp, and I looked as destroyed as I felt.

“This is only the second time Tenley contacted Cassie since she left. The first time was to let Cassie know she had to leave for a while, and to provide a list of potential employees while she was gone. Both times, she asked about you.”

I didn’t reply. I had nothing to say. So what if she asked about me? Her worry seemed less about how I was doing and more about the remorse she carried around with her. It was like a cinder block tied around her neck.

When we reached Inked Armor, I grabbed on to the door handle, but Nate hit the lock button and held it down. “Hold on.”

I sighed. “I’m not in the mood for this shit.”

“Too bad, because I have something you need to hear. Bad things happen to people, Hayden. All the time. You have firsthand experience with this. It’s not something we can control, but we do choose how to handle it. You need to start dealing with what happened to your parents. It’s not going to go away just because you want it to.

“Cassie is terrified you’re going to self-destruct all over again. When she lost her sister, it was tragic, and watching you almost go down along with Eleanor nearly destroyed her. Don’t put her through that again.”

“You’re seriously pulling a guilt trip on me over this?” I asked, irate.

“You need to get some help. If that’s the only way I can get through to you, then so be it. I won’t see my wife in that much pain again.”

The click of the door’s unlocking was my signal to get out.

He peeled away from the curb, tires squealing. The guilt hit its mark. Of course Cassie suffered after she lost her sister—but I hadn’t taken into account how my actions affected her. She and Nate had taken me in despite the problems I posed. I hadn’t been able to tolerate their care or concern and I’d gotten away as soon as I could.

Nate was right. I was walking a fine line toward imploding again. Not much about me had changed in the last seven years.

Feeding TK was the first order of business when I got home. After she scarfed down the contents of her bowl, I tucked her under my arm and went to Tenley’s apartment. After opening the door, I took off my shoes and placed them on the mat beside Tenley’s ratty, purple Chucks. I did a walk-through, checking all the rooms before I returned to the kitchen.

The fridge was almost empty: a package of processed-cheese slices, condiments, the beer I’d brought over, a pitcher of water, and the lemons I used to keep her fridge smelling fresh were all that remained.

I grabbed a beer and popped it open, then went through the fridge and tossed anything that had gone off. Next, I went to the cupboard under the sink and retrieved a new box of baking soda. Punching the perforated edge, I set it on the bottom shelf and chucked the old one. Then I threw out the lemon half from yesterday and replaced it as well.

Her bathroom was next. Though it was unused, I cleaned it out of habit. The bedroom was always my last stop. Unprepared to go there yet, I went back to the living room. A copy of Tenley’s thesis paper was on the coffee table, which I read whenever I stayed for a while. Tenley was smart, and her paper made me question what the fuck her adviser’s problem was. He had her running in circles for no reason.

All the curtains were pulled shut. I swept them aside, looking down at the Inked Armor sign across the street. Tenley would have been able to see right inside the shop from this vantage point, just as I’d been able to see inside her apartment from the window in my bedroom. God, it felt like a lifetime ago that I’d creeped on her while she was in her kitchen, making a drink. Even then I’d wondered if she was hiding any ink. I’d gotten the answer to that question, but the cost seemed pretty fucking high now.

I dropped the curtain and turned to face the empty living room. I scanned her bookshelves, pausing at the photo albums at the top. The albums became newer as they progressed across the shelf. Everything I was looking for and all the missing pieces would be in there. I tipped one of the spines and pulled it down.

The faded leather binding was well worn; it looked to be as old as Tenley. Inside were faded Polaroids with names and dates written across the bottoms in neat cursive. Tenley’s parents smiled out from the page, oblivious of what would become of them so many years in the future.

Tenley was almost the spitting image of her mother, from the arch in her eyebrows to the pout of her lips. But her gray-green eyes were from her father, along with the impish glint. I followed her parents’ story from college and dating to holidays on the beach and finally their wedding. A couple who’d appeared in many of the college photos stood beside Tenley’s parents as the best man and the maid of honor.