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.
“No offense, Hayden, but you don’t look very good.”
“You should have seen me before I shaved.” When he didn’t say anything, I sighed. “I’m not sleeping well.”
“Are you having the nightmares again?”
“It’s not a big deal. They happen when I’m stressed.”
For the past couple of years they’d been manageable. Every once in a while I went through a period when they resurfaced, but after a few weeks they let up again. Until Tenley had left. Now they came nightly.
“What are they about?”
“The usual.” That wasn’t quite accurate.
“Are they like the ones you had after your parents were killed?”
“Kind of.”
While the dreams about my parents unnerved me, the ones about Tenley scared the crap out of me. Usually they were more like snapshots of memories and flashes of events, such as the interrogation with Cross. Some of the nightmares were about previous women, who always morphed into Tenley. That my subconscious allowed such a thing freaked me out. But as much as they sucked, they were just dreams fused with memories. Nothing Nate needed to know about.
“Do you want me to prescribe you something to help with the sleep?”
“Nah, it’ll pass.” Meds were in my cabinet already, and except for one time a couple months back, I refused to take them. I might not be handling things well, but I knew what drug dependency looked like. Prescription or not, I had no desire to fall into that pit of self-destruction. We sat there for a while and I expected him to throw something else at me, but he didn’t. Eventually the words just came out, even though I’d vowed not to talk about it with him.
“I keep going back to the night she left, wondering if I could have done something differently. And there’s this one thing her brother-in-law said that I can’t get out of my head.”
“What’s that?”
“He said I was her punishment.”
“Punishment?” A crease formed between Nate’s eyes. “For what?”
“I don’t know. Surviving?” I rubbed the back of my neck.
“That seems a little extreme, considering what Tenley’s been through.”
“She didn’t deny it, though. So it has to be true.”
“I’m not sure I agree with that. It depends on the context, doesn’t it? And that brother-in-law of hers sounds like quite the bastard from what I’ve been told. I think the better question is, do you feel that way about yourself?”
I hesitated. “Maybe? Tenley could have been slumming it, like he said.”
“Slumming it? You don’t live in the projects.”
“I’m not exactly aspiring to be in the upper class, though, am I? My high school diploma was granted out of pity, not merit. I have no postsecondary education and I definitely don’t conform to societal expectations.”
Generally, the only people who wanted to be around me were the ones who wanted my art on them. It didn’t say much about me as a person.
“First of all, the upper class is primarily made up of narcissistic assholes, so it’s better not to aim for that status. Secondly, your problem in high school wasn’t ability. Your diploma was granted because you are competent. You were leagues above your peers and you were bored to tears. Which is partly why you behaved the way you did.”
“I would have been a pain in the ass even if boredom hadn’t been an issue.”
“Maybe. But let’s be honest, Hayden—as much as I loved your parents, they didn’t exactly keep close tabs on you.”
He was right, though it felt like a betrayal to think of them as anything less than perfect. Not until I started coming home drunk and high did they try to put a leash on me. By that time it was too late.
When I stayed silent, he continued, “Nonconformity has been your mantra since you developed independent thought. Plus, you were their only child and they couldn’t say no to you. When you lost them, you lost yourself, too. But that doesn’t make you someone else’s punishment.”
I held up a hand. He was spewing too much affirmation crap. “Enough with the headshrinking.”
Nate smiled, amused. “It’s a natural impulse, I’m afraid. And there’s nothing wrong with therapy.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
; “I don’t need to talk about my shit.”
“Everyone needs to talk about their shit.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” I said, irritated that I’d opened my mouth in the first place.
“You’ve spent the last seven years owning the death of your parents. That’s you punishing yourself. So it would make sense for you to internalize Tenley’s leaving as if it’s a reflection of something you’ve done, rather than an external force.”
It was hard to fight the truth. That was the reason I never allowed myself to get close to Nate. I talked too much when I was around him.
“I keep everyone on the periphery on purpose.” I shook my head at the irony. “And the second I let Tenley in, she leaves me. It fucking hurts. It’s like there’s this huge hole in my chest, and if she just came back, it would go away and I would be fine. Except that’s not true—because there will always be this thing between us now.”
“You’re referring to her deceased fiancé?”
Nate waited silently.
It embarrassed the shit out of me that he knew my business.
“Here’s the thing I can’t figure out: If I hurt this much over someone who is still alive and I’ve known for a few months, then how did she manage to move on after losing nine people? That’s why I think I’m her punishment. Like she picked me because I can never be right for her.”
“Love doesn’t always have convenient timing.”
“Tenley doesn’t love me.” I wished people would stop saying that. At first I believed it, but after weeks of silence, I didn’t anymore. I’d gone all the way to Arden Hills to get her back, only to end up being thwarted by that fucknut Trey. If I ever saw him again, he wouldn’t be walking away with teeth.
“Did she tell you that?”
“She left me. I think that says it all.”
“Have you considered that maybe she left because she doesn’t know how to handle how she feels about you?”
“She left because she had to deal with her estate.”
“I’m sure that’s part of the reason.”
“Whatever. The reasons don’t change the fact that she’s gone.” I downed the rest of my scotch and pushed up off the edge of the bed. “I need a refill.”
Dinner was more of the same. I zoned out, thinking about Tenley. Christmas was barely more than two weeks away and I worried how Tenley would handle the holidays. In the past I’d drowned them in booze and drugs. Now I limited it to scotch; sophisticated drunkenness and all that.
After dinner I made everyone leave the kitchen so I could clean up; creating order out of chaos helped ease the anxiety. I wanted to get home because I hadn’t checked Tenley’s apartment yet today and the deviation from my routine exacerbated the OCD, making me a slave to compulsion.
When I finished putting away the last of the dishes, I went back out to the living room. The girls were huddled around Cassie’s phone. I leaned over to check out what had them so riveted and heard Lisa whisper something about Tenley. They rarely mentioned her in front of me on the chance I might lose my shit. Or the notso-off chance. Lisa moved her head and the screen came into view; it contained an e-mail from Tenley.
“What the fuck?”
I snatched the phone out of Cassie’s hand and did a quick scan before she grabbed it back. It was a money transfer for Tenley’s rent. She’d sent it early. She usually paid on the fifteenth of every month, and the message along with it said she was fine, but she wasn’t sure when she would be back. At the end she asked how I was doing; if I was managing all right. As if she felt sorry for me. It was such a fucking kick in the balls.
“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.”
3
HAYDEN
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.
“Ca
ssie 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.
Inked Armor Page 3
