by Amber Lacie
“Let me drive the truck and you can follow me. That spare doesn’t look like much.” Nodding toward the driveway, August held his hand out for my keys.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. That doesn’t look safe. Let me take care of it for you, okay?”
“Alright. Where are your keys?”
Turning to face me, August gave me a devilish smirk. “In my pocket.”
“Hand them over.”
“Nope. You get them.”
Rolling my eyes, I fished my hands into his right front jean pocket and grabbed his keys, while he leaned his head back making ridiculously over done moaning sounds. Once I had the keys, I placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Are you done now?”
“I was almost there, but you stopped.”
“Aww. Do you know how bad I feel for you right now?”
“How bad?”
“Not at all. Can we go now?”
Laughing, August pushed open the screen door as I grabbed my purse from the counter. Boys are weird. The thought echoed loudly in my mind as I followed him to the car shop. He parked the truck right next to the front door, and after putting my keys in the overnight dropbox, he walked back over, giving me an evil look when I refused to move to the passenger seat.
He slid into the car and snapped his seatbelt into place. “This is my car.”
“I know. You let me drive it though. Remember?”
“So, that’s how this works?”
“August?” Giving him my best smile, I bat my eyelashes a few times. “Everything you had is now mine, and everything I had is also mine. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is mine. That’s how this works.”
Laughing, August shook his head and squeezed my knee, making me jump just a bit. “Arlington, you’re beautiful.”
“Thank you. Now, where am I going?” Pulling out onto the one-way road, I waited for his instructions.
“We are going to a tattoo party.”
“What?”
“Just drive. Turn right up here at the light.”
Every direction August gave me, I followed. After about ten minutes or so we ended up in front of a row of red brick townhomes. He pointed out which one we were going to and I parallel parked across the street in the only spot I could find.
“What are we doing here?” I asked. Turning off the car, I handed the keys back to August.
“Come on.” Nodding his head, he opened his door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. I wasn’t sure what we were doing there, but I trusted August. I would have followed him anywhere.
We walked up the steps and into the building, making a sharp turn to the right. August knocked on the door and a man with a shaven head waved us in. We made our way into a sitting room with about ten people or so filling the room. It didn’t seem like a lot, but since the room wasn’t very large everyone was spilled over the couches and a few were already making themselves comfortable on the floor.
I peered around the corner to see a long table set up in the kitchen. There was a tattoo artist with a dragon swirling up his right arm sitting in a chair. He was fully concentrating on the girl lying on the table, getting a tramp stamp of sorts on her lower back. I could hear someone else trying to talk her into changing it up a bit, but she just kept shaking her head no.
August signed his name on a clipboard lying haphazardly on a small table by the couch before sitting down on the floor and motioning for me to join him. Making myself as comfortable as I could, I curled myself against August. I didn’t know anyone else here and it didn’t look like he did either, so I couldn’t figure out why we were there.
“Are you getting a tattoo?”
Tucking a few strands of loose hair behind his ear he smiled down at me. “Just one. It’s small, but it means everything to me. It’s the start of something amazing. It changed my life.”
“What is it?” Now, I was curious. How could something mean so much that you would be willing to permanently mark your body? I always wondered why the guys dropping the bikes off at my dad’s shop had so many tattoos. Did each one tell a story?
“Do you remember the first day we met?”
“Yeah––I was waiting with Daniel at school and you walked up. Why?”
“That was the first day I started writing my own songs. As hard as I tried, they always felt empty. Do you remember the first time we kissed?”
A soft smile formed on my lips as I remembered the way his soft lips felt against mine. “Perfectly.”
“I couldn’t get it out of my head. Words were slamming against each other in my mind. That night I put my heart onto paper. It was the first time I felt like I was doing something. I knew at that moment, music was my calling. I mean, yeah, I thought about it before, but I always felt like I was trying too hard. You came along, and I didn’t have to try anymore.”
Flying. It’s the only word I could use to describe what I felt at that moment. His words made me feel weightless. I was soaring above the clouds with the stars. It’s still one of my favorite memories. I felt beautiful, loved, and wanted. It was perfect.
August pressed a soft kiss to my forehead as I closed my eyes, reveling in his touch. “This is the very first note I wrote after we kissed. It was the note. It’s everything.”
I watched as he pulled out a white folded sheet of paper from his back pocket. In the upper right corner, there was a single musical note. “What note is that?”
“It’s a middle C. I’m going to get it on my wrist, so I can see it all the time.”
At that moment, an idea occurred to me. That note didn’t just change August’s life, it changed mine as well. It represented everything that was forbidden, and at the same time, it was everything I wanted. “What would you do if I said I wanted one, too?”
“You want a tattoo?”
“I want the one you’re getting. Somewhere I can see it, but in a place where it’s hidden, too. Like, a secret.”
Lacing his fingers through mine, August held up my right hand inspecting every inch of my skin. His middle finger brushed against the inside of mine. Just the feel of his touch had me holding my breath. “What about right here. It would be small and only you would know the meaning behind it. It would be our moment locked in time.”
Staring at the inside of my middle finger, I nodded my head. It was the perfect place. We sat on the floor for another hour or so, causally rearranging our legs, so we wouldn’t get sore from the hardwood. My phone buzzed in my pocket just as the guy with the dragon tattoo called August’s name. It was Daniel. I didn’t answer it because I wasn’t sure what lie to give him. I wanted to tell him in person that I was seeing August. A phone call seemed so impersonal––or maybe that was just my way of avoiding it. Either way, I silenced my phone and tucked it back into my pocket.
We walked into the other room and I made myself comfortable on the table while August talked to the artist. We had already decided I would go first. At first, we couldn’t agree, but after I won a game of rock, paper, scissors, it was decided.
“Any particular color?” The artist stood in front of me and propped my hand up on a wooden box.
“Just black, please.”
“You got it. Don’t move. This won’t take long.”
I was expecting an intense amount of pain, but it was nothing more than a tiny bee sting. It didn’t take him long to finish mine, and I got up from the table, admiring my new secret as August made himself comfortable. The artist positioned August’s arm on the box and moved to grab a paper towel. I was confused as to why August had his arm laying down until I realized he was getting his tattoo in the same spot.
His gaze met mine as he mouthed ‘our secret’. Once again, my heart was gladly celebrating the man in front of me. He always seemed to amaze me. My phone began to buzz once again. Daniel. Stepping out of the room, I answered. There were still quite a few people left in the sitting room, so I stepped outside on the porch, so I could hear him better.
“Hey.”
“Where are y
ou?” His voice cracked in my ear. Was he crying?
“Daniel, what’s wrong? Where are you?”
“You tell me, Arlo. Where are you? Are you with him?”
“Stop for a second––who are you talking about?”
“Oh my God! You are––you are with him. She told me, and I didn’t believe her. I called her a lying slut and I made her leave. Oh, my God. I made her leave. She was messed up and I pushed her into the world. Fuck.”
My heart was pounding in my ears. None of what he was saying made any sense. I knew I had to get to him. “Where are you?”
“I can’t find Ben.”
“Okay. Are you at Ben’s? Is he not there?”
“That’s what I just fucking said, isn’t it?”
“Daniel, I don’t know what you’re saying you’re not making any sense.” My stomach swirled as my heart frantically sank. Wherever he was, he was messed up. His words were slurred together. Daniel, no.
“Lucas. I need to find Ben’s brother. He would know what to do.”
“To do about what?”
“Arlington,” his voice was but a whisper in my ear, “I think I killed her. She died because of me.”
The darkness outside swirled around me as I grabbed onto the wrought iron railing. Dear God, please tell me he’s wrong. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. “I need more info than that. Let me help you. Tell me what happened.”
“It doesn’t matter now. She was right.” CLICK! The line went dead and I was left standing outside, in the dark, with no clue on what to do next. My palms were shaking as I pushed my way back through the people into the room where August was standing. He handed the artist some cash and shook his hand before walking towards me. I didn’t have to say anything. He took one look at me and knew something was wrong.
Leading me from the room back outside, August pulled me into his arms. “Is he drunk? High?”
“I don’t know. Maybe both? He said he killed her. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“What?”
“I kept asking where he was. All he said was he couldn’t find Ben. He said, ‘I think I killed her.’ Jesus. What if he did? What if he hurt someone?”
“I don’t know, Babe. He said he couldn’t find, Ben, right? Maybe he’s at his place. Let’s go there. If he’s not there, maybe we should call the cops.”
“I don’t want him to get into trouble.”
“But if he’s saying he hurt someone, we have no other choice.”
“I know.” Sniffing, I wiped a few tears off my cheek as I followed August to the car. He started the engine and we took off towards Ben’s apartment.
The only light on in the entire building was Daniel’s makeshift apartment. Please, be here. Please, be here. Gripping August’s hand, we rushed across the street and up the stairs. Loud music was coming from Daniel’s room. I tried knocking, but when he didn’t answer, so I opened the door and stepped in.
The stench of utter filth wafted up my nose. Every time I came over I cleaned his place. I was helping him do laundry, clean, and stock his fridge. I didn’t realize he wasn’t doing any of it himself. Having spent so much time with August, I hadn’t been around to check on Daniel, and it was more than noticeable.
“Daniel?” I stepped inside and unplugged the speaker from the wall. The music died abruptly while my eyes continued to scan the apartment. The sound of a toilet flushing caught my attention. August nodded to me and then carefully pulled open the bathroom door.
Daniel was sitting in front of the toilet, his face red and puffy. Blood was smeared across his cheek. My breath hitched as his words echoed through my mind. ‘I think I killed her.’
“Daniel––what happened here?”
“She left me.”
“Who?”
“Corie. I wouldn’t get her anything from Brenden. I wanted to do better, you know. Just like you and me talked about. I was going to do better. She didn’t like it. She was sitting on the bed twitching. I wasn’t going to help her. She said she hated me. Then she took off.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I started looking for a towel or anything that could help me clean him up. Spotting a sponge on the back of the sink, I grabbed it. God knows how old it was, but it was all I could find. Rinsing the sponge in water under the bathroom faucet, I bent down and started to wipe his face. It wasn’t someone else’s blood. It was his. He had a thin cut across his cheekbone with a matching bruise becoming more prominent as I stood there cleaning him up.
“Who hit you?”
“Brenden. He came over.”
“For what?”
“To tell me Corie died.”
I helped him to his feet, wrapped one of his arms around my shoulder, and walked him over to his bed. August started to sort through the mess we found ourselves in. As I was tending to Daniel, he was picking up the trash, piling up laundry, and clearing dirty dishes off the counter. Once I got Daniel comfortable on the bed, I cleared a spot and sat next to him. I had never seen my brother so broken before.
“I know––I’m drunk. Just say it.”
“I don’t need to say it if you already know it.” Sighing, I took one of his hands in mine. “You said you killed her––tell me what happened.”
“It’s what I said. I kicked her out and she wasn’t right. I don’t know where she went, but I know that somehow, she got to her sister’s place. They found her dead in the bathtub this morning. She was dry, and she still had her clothes on.”
“Brenden was the last person she called on her phone, so her sister called him freaking out. The cops were already there, and she was threatening him for giving her shit. When he got here he was pissed. He said I gave her too much, but I ain’t got anything on me, Arls. I mean, I got some liquor in the cabinet, and a little weed, but I ain’t got whatever she was on. Ben won’t let me bring that in here.”
What Corie’s sister was going through, was everything I feared. I didn’t understand the addiction, or the need for poison. When I was little, someone told me drugs killed. I believed them. It was enough to scare me into never trying them. It obviously hadn’t worked for Daniel. I knew he had a problem, but I also knew he wasn’t lying to me. I knew whatever Corie was on, she didn’t get it from Daniel.
“Brenden was screaming at me. I kept saying I didn’t give her anything. He said I ruin everything I touch and then he hit me. He stood over me for a minute, but I didn’t get up. I didn’t know what to do and then he left.”
“Why do you think that you killed her?”
“Because, if I hadn’t made her leave, she wouldn’t have been able to get anything. She would still be here. She’d be pissed, but she’d be okay. I didn’t help her. I should’ve, and I didn’t.”
Words are powerful. They could build nations and stop wars, while at the same time being able to destroy anything in their path. I didn’t have any to give him. Good or bad. I was speechless. There was nothing I could do, but hold Daniel as he cried. Eventually, he fell asleep.
August and I finished cleaning up, before locking the door behind us. I was going to go back first thing in the morning, but I needed to shower. If I went home, I could bring Daniel back food and clothes. Immense guilt fell over me as I walked away from him, but I thought I was helping him.
A month had gone by since that night I found my brother broken in his apartment. Things were slowly getting back to normal, as they should be. I was in my second week of classes and time was becoming harder to juggle. Daniel needed me, the office had asked me to pick up some more hours while another woman was on vacation, my dad was letting the shop’s books slip, and then there was August.
He sat in the background, patiently waiting for me to give him some sort of attention. He never pushed me, or swayed me one way or another. I often found little notes on my pillow, or the nightstand by my bed. They weren’t anything extraordinary. They mainly told me he missed me, or wished me luck for the day. Occasionally, he would come with me to check on Daniel and he even sat with me thr
ough my English-lit class a couple of times. He took whatever time I could give him, without complaint. August was a breath of fresh in air in the sea of pollution I was drowning in.
Tapping my pencil against my desk, I tried to focus on the paper I was supposed to be working on. It was due in two days, and I had nothing. My fingers flipped a few more pages of my textbook, but I didn’t find what I was looking for. To be honest, I’m not sure I was even trying. Everything seemed so pointless. My phone chimed across the room, letting me know August would be there soon. I had alarms for everything, even time I dedicated to showering.
Closing my book, I stood from my desk and stretched my back. The last thing I wanted was to be a mess when he got there. Grabbing some clean clothes from the stack on the floor near my dresser, I hopped in the shower. I could hear my phone ringing while I was rinsing my hair, but I ignored it. August always called me when he was a few minutes from the house. He wasn’t impressed with the way my dad was handling everything, so he did his best to avoid him. The weight on my shoulders from balancing everything was crushing me, and my dad just turned a blind eye. He hated that I was helping Daniel, but how could I not? He was my brother and I loved him. I couldn’t not help him.
Why is it that when you’re in a hurry everything seems to go wrong? While getting ready, I tripped, trying to pull my jeans on and smacked my head on the towel rack hanging on the back of the bathroom door. That’s what I get for not drying off all the way. Clothes are hard to put on when your skin is still damp. Then, I bumped my head again on the corner of the sink when I was pulling out my hairdryer from the bottom drawer. I quickly finished my hair and was looking myself over in the mirror when I heard August pull up. Two red marks stood out against my alabaster skin in the mirror. I was hoping the bathroom lighting was creating more of a problem than I wanted, but when August grimaced when he saw me, I knew they were worse than I thought.
“What did you do?” He pulled out a chair and motioned for me to sit. I got lost in his eyes as he leaned down in front of me. His fingers slowly brushed against my skin, checking out the prominent marks on my forehead.
