Dead Ink (Karma #4)

by Donna Augustine

  Every rap at the door made her breath catch, as she waited to see if it was going to be him. Every time she heard a phone ring, she thought it might be Lars. It took an entire week before she realized he wasn’t going to show up at Cutty’s, and he wasn’t going to call.

  Every day that she woke at Cutty’s house, she thought maybe she’d see him, if just by coincidence. But he never came by anymore. That was when she realized he must have been actively avoiding her.

  She wallowed around Cutty’s aimlessly for a while, until she couldn’t stand herself or the looks of pity the guys would give her when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. She had a choice to make. She could sit there, frozen in hurt for some indefinite period, and let the void she felt within her blossom into something that would consume her. Or she could force herself to get on with building a new life for herself.

  Lars had discarded her as easily as he did his clients, and it was time to toss him out of her heart. If she could.

  Chapter 37

  Lars looked down at his desk, piled with paperwork he hadn’t touched since Faith had stopped coming into the shop. Shit. This was going to take him all goddamn day and his accountant hadn’t come back yet. He guessed he could let it keep piling up but the IRS fined corporations, even ones owned by the former Grim Reaper. They feared no one.

  He sat down in his chair and started shuffling through receipts and mail, almost wishing the post office hadn’t reopened with the rest of the world.

  He was up to five separate piles of bullshit on his desk that had to get reported or filed when he saw it. It was the envelope Faith must have left the last time she was in here. It had gotten buried under with the rest of the items he hadn’t wanted to deal with.

  He tore it open and found it full of cash, a deposit slip alongside it. Where had all this cash come from? He let it fall out of the envelope and a note was in with the slip.

  Lars,

  There is a good chance I will no longer be working here for much longer. When things calm down—which they hopefully will—you need to put this in your account so you can pay your bills. You were paying me way too much. You need to be more responsible with your money before you lose your business.

  He laughed a little. She really had thought he was a financial wreck. Then he read the rest of the letter.

  I’m sorry we got to this point. I didn’t mean to hide anything from you. I was scared and it wasn’t a risk I was ready to take. I wish I’d trusted you more but I guess we all live with regrets.

  Faith

  Lars was silent for a moment before he shoved everything off the desk.

  ***

  “Where is she?” was the first thing out of Lars’ mouth when he walked into Cutty’s kitchen.

  “At her house, which for some reason I think you know.” Cutty took a bite of a cutlet he’d just pulled out of a pan. “I can never make them taste as good as hers.”

  “I have to talk to her,” Lars said.

  “Now you have to talk to her?” Cutty took another bite. “I mean, they aren’t horrible, just missing something.”

  “I’m going to go see her today.” Even saying the words made him apprehensive. She hated him. She must. But he had to try.

  “Really? After a month, all of a sudden a lightning bolt hit you and you got some fucking sense?” Cutty asked, finally giving Lars his full attention.

  “Yes, I’m going to talk to her.” He knew he sounded defensive but he had to see her, whatever came of it.

  “It might have been a better idea a month ago. Or maybe not kicking her to the curb in the first place, but oh no, you wouldn’t listen to me,” Cutty said, waving his cutlet in the air.

  Lars didn’t bother replying.

  “So, can I take this to mean you want her, no matter what?” Cutty asked.

  “Yes. I thought my intent was obvious. I’m not going over there to tell her she sucks.”

  “Have to check. I never can quite be sure when you might kick in to your normal asshole self. Not to make you feel any crappier than you already do, even though you do deserve it, I gotta tell you something.” Cutty walked over to his fridge and opened the door. “Want a beer? You might need it.”

  “No. Just tell me.”

  “Before Karma disappeared, she told me she’d never seen someone who burned as beautifully bright as Faith.” Cutty took a sip of the beer he’d grabbed from the fridge, and Lars grimaced.

  Lars sank into one of Cutty’s kitchen chairs as he groaned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because Faith asked Karma not to tell anyone. She wanted you to want her on her own merits, not because someone else had to vouch for her. Can you blame her?”

  Lars groaned again and leaned back in the chair, looking up at the ceiling.

  “It’s kind of good news in a way, isn’t it?”

  “It was easier thinking she was somehow a little evil. If she was even partially guilty, than I’d be partially right. Now I’m all wrong.”

  “It gets a bit worse.”

  “It can’t.”

  “Oh yeah, it can. Remember, that night, how I told you guys that I thought maybe she was Faith, and you shit all over it? Had a talk with Paddy. He’d planned on recruiting her.”

  How could he have been so wrong? “Give me that beer.”

  “I knew it,” Cutty said, I told you so oozing out of his every movement as he grabbed Lars a beer and handed it to him. “There was no other way we’d all take to a stranger that quick otherwise.”

  “Fate didn’t,” Lars said, latching on to anything he could.

  “Fate was more fucked up than you at the time.”

  Lars sat there frozen for a few minutes as his brain spun.

  Cutty sat down across the table from him. “Sitting here isn’t going to help you. Go talk to her.”

  “You don’t understand how bad it was. I hurt her.”

  “Yeah, I am aware. I saw the aftermath first hand. And then you acted like an utter moron, and it takes you a month to come to your senses.”

  “Like you haven’t been an idiot in the past. Stop bitching and help me.”

  “Do. You. Love. Her? I’m not helping you unless you are a hundred percent sure, no bullshit. I don’t want you to screw with her again.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you grovel.”

  “I don’t grovel.”

  Cutty stood and walked over to him, then patted him on the shoulder and said, “You do now, buddy.”

  “That’s your big help?”

  “It’s quite wise advice. People should pay me for this shit.”

  “Is she there now?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s she doing?”

  “I keep telling you people, I’m Sixth Sense, not all knowing, but probably same thing she does every afternoon. She’s in her garden. Now that we found her a location for a new gallery, she’s been doing that to keep busy until we close on the property.”

  “Thanks for taking care of her.”

  “Are you kidding? I didn’t do it for you. I’m going to be her silent partner, and she’s going to make me a shitload of money. I checked out her last place she had before she died. The girl has a great head for business.”

  “But you got her set up in a house and—”

  “She negotiated it into our contract. I would’ve done it anyway but like I said, she’s no slouch.”

  “Has she asked about me?”

  “Nope, not a word,” Cutty replied.

  “I’m going to go over there. Any last words of advice?”

  “Wear jeans. Groveling is rough on the knees.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  ***

  Faith heard footsteps walk around her ranch house into the backyard, where she was bent over a flowerbed. She was alternating between weeding and planting rose bushes. She could smell his scent and knew exactly who it was without looking. She didn’t bother glancing up, just dug into the dirt with mor
e vigor. She hadn’t seen him in a month, and the ache in her chest still hadn’t diminished. Now he was here and it felt like he was tearing her open again.

  “What do you want?” she said, finally acknowledging his presence when he was only a couple of feet from her.

  “Do you have a minute?”

  “No.” Not anymore.

  He didn’t budge from his spot. It wasn’t shocking. He was a stubborn bastard.

  “I’m not leaving until you hear me out.”

  “You don't deserve to be heard,” she said, still refusing to look at him and ripping a dandelion out of the ground as if it had personally insulted her.

  “I’ve always wanted you. I might not have shown it, and I know I didn’t treat you right, but I did. I still do.”

  “Are you done?” she asked, still refusing to look at him, even as her voice lost its steadiness and she felt a burning in her eyes. A month he’d stayed away, and now he thinks he can just waltz in? It was too late.

  “No, I’m not. I misjudged you. I don’t know why I couldn’t see the truth that was glaring in front of me but I fucked up. I want you back.”

  “Go away.” It was everything she’d wanted to hear but a month too late. She didn’t care what he wanted anymore. Just as he hadn’t cared how she’d felt. Now if she could just get the tears to stop falling, and get the fist that felt like it was wrapped around her heart to let go, maybe she could sound like she meant it.

  She wouldn’t look up at him and kept gardening like he wasn’t standing there. She heard him finally start to retreat, which should’ve made her feel better, but instead made the tears pick up their pace. Her hands attacked the dirt with the anger she felt toward him and at herself for missing him.

  Just when she thought he was finally leaving, he turned back around.

  “Go away,” she repeated, keeping her head down, not wanting him to see how he was affecting her.

  He knelt beside her. “I deserve to lose you. I’ve been the biggest bastard in the world. I couldn’t see past myself to realize what I had. But I can’t leave you alone without knowing I tried. I don’t deserve your forgiveness but just know that I love you.”

  “You walked away from us. You threw me out.” She finally looked up at him now, rage overcoming the tears. “You just disappeared. No goodbyes, no explanations, nothing. Just gone. And now you show up here as if we can pick up again? Like nothing happened? It’s over. I don’t want you.”

  He dropped his head, her words finally seeming to hit home, no matter how false they were. She was starting to fear she’d never really stop wanting him.

  “I’ll leave, but just know that if you ever need anything, ever, I’ll be there.”

  She watched him turn and walk away, feeling more torn apart with each step he took until he was gone, and the emptiness felt crippling.

  She heard footsteps returning. “I thought you were leaving?” she snapped, not wanting Lars to see how badly she was falling apart.

  “If you feel that strongly about it,” Paddy said.

  She looked up to see the old man leaning on his cane.

  “I’m sorry.” She wiped a hand across her cheek, probably leaving a dirt smear, but she didn’t care. “I thought you were somebody else.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time,” he said, even as she was doubting anybody ever mistook him. “I’m guessing that was Lars you thought you were talking to?” he asked.

  She nodded but got back to digging, not wanting to discuss Lars at all.

  “He’s always been a little different.”

  “Sure,” she said, humoring him but hoping he wouldn’t continue talking.

  “Distrustful and unsatisfied, always running around searching for something he couldn’t explain. I didn’t think he’d ever calm down.” He moved around her and looked at the other rose bushes she had laid out beside her.

  “Is there a point to this? Not to be rude, but I really don’t care to talk about him.” She pulled off her gardening gloves and threw them beside the hole that didn’t look like it was getting a bush today.

  “You know, I’d mentioned how I was thinking of recruiting you for the agency but I guess it’s good it didn’t work out. Maybe you don’t have as much faith as I thought, if you can’t see what you might have had.”

  “I never had him.” And she didn’t need the reminder. She was a minute away from walking into her house and locking the door on the whole world today.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he said in a placating voice. “Enjoy your roses. They’re almost as pretty as the ones he gave you.”

  Paddy finally left, and she sat there wondering what he was talking about. Lars had never given her roses.

  Chapter 38

  The bells chimed over the door as he was bent over the guy he was tattooing. It was a reaper tattoo because that’s all he’d been in the mood to do. No one had complained. Some had even cried at the sight of the finished artwork because all of his pain and regret was there to see. He hadn’t been able to eat or sleep. All he could do was remember Faith’s tears, the hurt he’d caused her. It was tearing him up inside.

  “Get out,” he said to whoever had just walked in.

  The lights in the room started to dim and he realized the visitor was still there and messing with the window shades.

  “Get—” He turned about to bark out a command when he saw her, Faith, lowering the shades. He thought he’d picked up her floral scent. He thought he sensed her so often lately, to only look over to an empty space, that he’d stopped expecting her to be there.

  “Get out,” he said to his client, softer this time. “Now.”

  “Again?” the guy grumbled.

  “Yes,” Lars snapped and the guy grabbed his shirt and headed out the door.

  Lars’ chest was tight as he watched her. She was as beautiful as ever, long blonde hair flowing down her back in a white strappy sundress.

  “How’ve you been?” Lars asked when he finally got his voice back. He thought he’d never see her in his shop again.

  “Okay.”

  That word crushed him. She’d moved on. She’d looked it when he seen her through the window of her gallery. He hadn’t been able to resist driving past it.

  “That’s good.”

  “No, actually, that’s bullshit.” She finally turned to him and he could see the sadness there. She wasn’t okay.

  “Why did you come here?” he asked. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  She walked around his shop, not seeming to realize he’d just given her fair warning.

  “I finally looked at the tattoo you did on my back.”

  “If you don’t like the flowers, I can cover them up with something else.”

  “No. They’re beautiful. I just don’t understand why you chose them?”

  “Flowers?”

  “Not just flowers, but black roses, a symbol of death?”

  “You didn’t have a symbol, so I guess I…”

  “Decided to give me yours? I need to know why you did that.”

  “Because from the moment I saw you sitting in that chair over there, the first day we met, something clicked inside of me. You were a mess, filthy dirty, absolutely terrified, but I could tell you were going to survive no matter what the cost. I don’t know. Something happened and the part of me that I never let see daylight was climbing out to the surface and saying you were the one. I just refused to believe it, at first.”

  As Faith walked farther into the room, Lars moved slowly to the door. His fingers moved to the deadlock and he watched her as the bolt clicked into place. His actions didn’t seem to make her nervous, which was good because he wasn’t sure if he could let her go. Not again. He’d warned her, and she hadn’t left.

  He started to slowly approach her.

  Her eyes dropped and her fingers ran along his supplies, touching this and that. “I’m still angry. So angry it’s hard to think sometimes.”

  The hurt he heard pa
used him on his pursuit.

  “I just don’t understand how you can walk away from someone, not once but twice.” The overhead light caught her eyes and he could see the mixture of unshed tears and anger.

  “I thought it was what you wanted.”

  She looked at him, shaking her head, as if she didn’t even understand why she was there. But she was. She’d come to him and he wasn’t letting her go again.

  All hesitation was gone as he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you. I’m sorry that I had to lose you before I realized.”

  “How can I ever trust you again? How do I know you won’t change your mind again?”

  He held her tightly, knowing he couldn’t let her go again, knowing that she still did care. “I know I can’t make what I did right. I know I hurt you but I’m going to fix it.”

  “What if you can’t?”

  “You wouldn’t have come here if you’d truly given up on us.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

  “If you do it again…” Her voice broke and her words trailed off.

  “I’ll cut my heart out myself. But it wouldn’t matter, it would shrivel up and die knowing I’d ruined this.”

  He waited for some sign from her, as she was stiff in his embrace. When she finally started hugging him back he lifted her off her feet and started walking.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Upstairs. I’m taking you home and I’m never letting you leave.”

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