Warrior Blue

by Kelsey Kingsley

  “Oh,” I laughed with cynicism, “believe me, she didn’t try to hide it. She just came out and told me. Did you know that God punished her by giving her me?”

  She exhaled against the phone. “Blake …”

  “Yeah,” I nodded, licking my lips, so parched and desperate. “That’s funny, right? I mean, I always thought I was punishing myself because there is no fucking god, but as it turns out, the bastard used me to punish her. And then I guess she decided to take it upon herself to make my life miserable, because I made hers a living hell by existing and ruining Jake. Or some fucking shit, I don’t fucking know.”

  “Blake,” her voice nipped at my ears, in an attempt to snap me out of it, “I need you to breathe—”

  “No. I won’t fucking breathe.” I pushed away from the wall to lurch forward and take the few strides to the shelf of booze and snatch that damn bottle. “My own fucking mother hates me. Who the fuck hates their own kid? Who the fuck takes their anger out on a fucking kid? Who the fuck …”

  My breath was ragged and the sob escaping my lungs surprised me. As my hand tightened around the bottle’s neck, I leaned forward, smacking my forehead against a cabinet door. “Goddammit, Doc,” I cried into the phone, all at once noticing the tears on my face and the trembling in my voice. “They’re taking him away from me. I don’t want them to take him away.”

  “I know, Blake,” she spoke to me in that tone meant to drag me from off a cliff, “and I am so, so sorry this is happening to you.”

  I smacked my head again, barely holding onto the phone with my bad hand, as I demanded, “Tell me what to do. You’re always telling me what I should do, so tell me something now. Tell me what the fuck I can do.”

  “Blake, I need you to listen to me,” she said, coddling in her tone. “I am not a lawyer. I don’t know how it is you could battle something like this, other than to say I’m sure there is a way. But right now, you need to calm down because you’re not helping anybody by acting out in rage, okay? Let’s calm down.”

  “How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

  “Well,” she said, “why don’t you tell me about what happened with Audrey?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  THE PHONE CONVERSATION with Dr. Travetti had calmed me down, and that night, Audrey came to stay. I was grateful she hadn’t seen me at my worst, because she only deserved my best, and together, we decided I’d talk to Amy, Miss Thomas, the next chance I got. Audrey was certain she would know what I could do, and I felt a calm in knowing that I had a plan.

  I spent the weekend buried in her arms and between her legs, in some attempt to drown my anxieties in something that wasn’t alcohol. She and Freddy agreed to accompany me to hang out with Jake on Sunday and acted as a buffer between my parents and me, knowing they wouldn’t attempt to get a rise out of me with her there.

  Come Monday, everything seemed back to normal. Jake and I went about our morning as though our days weren’t numbered, and there was a real bittersweet sadness in that. When I dropped Jake off at daycare on the way to work, I pulled Amy aside and simply asked how I could go about getting legal guardianship over Jake. She was surprised to learn I wasn’t already his guardian, and I briefly explained our personal situation. I omitted the details about the mother I only recently acknowledged had been abusing me my entire life and the father who’d allowed it all to happen by turning a blind eye.

  Curiosity glinted in her gaze as she had said, “Well, I guess you could always talk to your parents—”

  “No, that’s not an option at this point. I just need to know how I’d go about doing this from my end, without getting them involved.” Until I saw them in court, I’d also neglected to mention.

  Slowly nodding her head with unspoken understanding, Amy went to her office to retrieve a few pamphlets regarding disability law and obtaining guardianship. Then, in a quiet voice, she’d said, “And Blake, if there’s anything I can do, please don’t even hesitate to ask. Jason and I are always here.”

  I thought about what she’d said a number of times in the days that followed. About the support system I’d developed in the time since I’d met Audrey. The kind of people who I had kept at arms’ length, until she had entered my life and acted as the bridge between me and everybody else. Connecting and pulling me from the private island I’d banished myself to.

  Had I ever deserved being exiled?

  I no longer thought so.

  On Friday, I was no closer to having a plan than I had been before, but otherwise, I was happy. My issue of ModInk had hit the stands, and with the excitement of having my name in print, the turmoil of the previous weekend had dissipated. Audrey insisted that we should invite Cee and Shane over for dinner to celebrate, and that was how I found myself flipping pancakes and grilling sausages for a table of six.

  “Blake,” Shane said, coming up behind me, “your brother is fuckin’ awesome, man.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head. “Please don’t feel obligated to say that.”

  He scoffed. “The fuck? Why would I feel obligated? I’ve never seen someone build with Legos so fast in my life.”

  “Oh, he showed you, huh?”

  “Hell yeah, he did, and honestly, it doesn’t really surprise me. I mean, with your talent, I guessed he’d have to be artistic, too.”

  I nodded contemplatively, thinking about his obsession with Legos and how it hadn’t existed before the accident. He might’ve lost his talent for drawing, but he hadn’t completely lost his artistic ability. It’d just manifested differently. “I guess I never thought about that before.”

  “And hey, man, what’s up with that color thing? He told me I’m tan, and dude,” he glanced down at his all-black attire, “I ain’t wearin’ any tan.”

  Flipping the pancakes onto a plate, I chuckled lightly. “Yeah, he sees, uh …” I pinched my lips, considering how to explain it to him, then simply said, “He sees auras.”

  “No shit?”

  “Yeah, it’s a, um, a gift, I guess. He’s good at reading people, knows who to trust.” I handed him the plate and noticed his worry expressed in the clench of his jaw. I smiled assuredly and said, “Tan’s a good one. It usually means you’re friendly.”

  Shane gave an approving nod. “Damn straight.” Then, he faltered, squinted one eye and asked, “So, that means he likes me, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You’re good.”

  Shane headed toward the table with the plate of pancakes and said, “Hey, you know, you could actually work that into your ink.”

  I dropped the sausage links from the pan onto another plate and narrowed my eyes as I worked. “Huh?”

  “I mean, you could still do your gritty shit, man; it’s your signature. But, think about it. How cool would it be to incorporate just a splash of personalized color into someone’s ink? Kinda like the butterfly, but it doesn’t have to be the same.”

  “Huh,” I muttered, granting the thought permission to seep in. “It’s not a bad idea.” In actuality, I loved it.

  “You could work with Jake,” Shane pointed out, and the reminder of why that wouldn’t work struck me as a lance to the gut.

  “Yeah,” I said, not allowing my emotions to reach the surface. “It’s definitely something to think about,” and I left it at that.

  ***

  Audrey came out from the kitchen with four beers pinched between her fingers. She handed them out to Shane and Cee, then came to perch on my lap while passing a cold bottle into my hand. Settling her back against my chest, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and took a pull from the bottle. With my eyes closed and my temple pressed to hers, I listened to Jake and Freddy playing animatedly down the hall, tasted the beer, and in this moment, this brief and satisfying moment, I was happy.

  “My God, they’re so cute,” Cee commented, and I opened my eyes to see her nudging the neck of her bottle toward the hall just as Freddy squealed and Jake declared he was “gonna get him.”

  Audrey nodded. “Th
ey’re totally B-F-F’s.”

  I eyed her with skepticism. “I dunno about that. Freddy mentioned something to me about another kid at his school.”

  Smirking with a dash of seduction, she shook her head and grasped my chin in her hand. “Nuh-uh. Freddy told me the other day; Jake is his best friend.” Then, with the gentle quality I’d come to expect from her, she kissed me lightly. I took a breath, like I always did when her lips were on mine, as if that was the only time I was permitted to have air.

  “Well, I guess we better get going, since these two obviously need a room,” Shane teased.

  Audrey pulled away just in time for Cee to whack Shane’s chest lightly with her hand. “I’m finishing this beer first, thanks,” she retorted with a laugh. Then she looked to Audrey and said, “My ex has the kids for the weekend. I’m gonna take advantage of it.”

  “Girl, there’s a case of twelve in there with your name on it,” Audrey replied, laughing and settling against me once again.

  “Hallelujah!” Cee knocked back the beer with a hefty gulp before raising the bottle to me. “I love your girlfriend, Blake. She gets me.”

  With a sincerity building in my chest, I waited for Shane and Cee to find a distraction in what was happening on the TV before putting my lips to Audrey’s ear and whispering, “I love my girlfriend, too.”

  She hummed gently, smiling and layering her arms over mine. “You’re getting soft.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I replied, “but is that really such a bad thing?”

  “Well, I’d say it’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, so,” she turned and touched her lips to mine once again and said, “I’d say, no.”

  ***

  The house was dark and quiet. With their sleeping bags rolled out in the living room, Jake and Freddy were fast asleep while Gremlins continued to play for the second time that evening. Audrey moved slowly into my bedroom and closed the door behind her, leaving it open just a bit in case Freddy needed her.

  “Jake’s never had a slumber party before,” I mentioned, pulling my t-shirt off. “Well, not since the accident, anyway.”

  Audrey kicked her shoes off as she nodded. “You’ve told me he didn’t have a lot of friends.”

  I shook my head. “No. He didn’t have any friends. The ones he did have ditched him,” I corrected her, dropping my hands to the studded belt around my waist. “When I’ve told you that my parents did nothing for him, I mean, they did nothing. He hardly left the damn house. They thought it’d make it easier on him, on them, if he didn’t go out. So,” I pulled the belt free in one aggravated tug, “the only time he’d see other kids our age, was when I brought people over.”

  “And he wasn’t allowed to play with you?”

  “When we were younger, he did.” I undid my fly, watching her intently as she removed her yellow shirt in a way that appeared almost as a dance. Her movements were so delicate, so graceful, and with the fluidity of water, I watched the fabric, as it drifted to the floor. “But as we got older, my friends didn’t like having him around.”

  “That’s not their fault,” she interjected softly. “They were just kids.”

  “Nah,” I shook my head, “I know. I never really thought it had anything to do with him being, you know, different. It was always more that he was into stuff we didn’t like, or even just the fact that they weren’t his friends, you know? They came over to hang out with me, not my brother.”

  “That used to happen with Sabrina and me. We didn’t share a lot of the same friends.”

  Dropping my jeans and sitting on the bed, I nodded before faltering and saying, “I feel like I’m insane.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Raking my fingers from both hands through my hair, I hung my head and stared at the floor. “Because I was always so convinced that these people hated him, when they didn’t. My mother told me that they did, that’s why they weren’t allowed over, and not once did I ever think to question it.”

  Stepping toward me, Audrey took my hands in hers and held them tight. “Look at me,” she commanded, and I did. Even now, when such ugliness threatened to shroud every sliver of light, she was there, glowing and beautiful. “This is the last time I ever want to hear you blame yourself, do you understand? Nothing that happened was your fault, absolutely nothing—not even the accident. You were a victim, simple as that.”

  “And what the fuck am I now?” I asked, nearly snickering. “Damaged goods?”

  “No,” she said, stepping forward and straddling my lap in nothing but a few flimsy scraps of lace that begged to be torn off. “You’re a warrior. And a survivor.”

  “And you know what you are?” My palms pressed to the dip in her back, holding her against my needy body. She shook her head, threading her fingers through my hair, and I said, “My savior.”

  Thrusting my mouth against hers, we kissed feverishly, desperately, as I lowered my hands to her panties, suddenly too cumbersome and far too much in the way. I pulled at them, stretched them, and groaned with my tongue in her mouth at the increasingly annoying fact that the damn things wouldn’t rip. Audrey giggled in her girly way and mumbled against my lips, “You can just ask me to remove them.”

  “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that when I can try ripping them off?” I replied, rolling quickly to lay her back against the bed. She let out a high-pitched shriek at the sudden movement and I pressed my finger to her lips. “You better keep quiet. Don’t wanna wake them up. Freddy might think I’m actually trying to kill you this time.”

  “Oh, my Lord.” Audrey clapped a hand over her mouth before giggling wildly. “He would be traumatized for life.”

  “Then, you better be very, very,” I lowered to my knees and pulled those damn underwear off, “very quiet.”

  I devoured her as if she was my last supper, feasting as though I’d been starving since the day I was born. I pushed her closer and closer to the edge, with an encouraging tongue and coaxing lips, until she prayed to my name and pulled at my hair. And just when her body stiffened beneath my hands and her back curved like she’d been possessed, my phone began to ring.

  “Blake,” she whispered hoarsely, coming down from the high without actually coming.

  “Ignore it,” I demanded, gripping her thighs and delving deeper.

  But the phone persisted. “Blake,” she groaned, propping up on her elbows. “Just answer it, it’s fine.”

  “Fucking hell,” I grumbled with a sigh and reached for the damn thing to find it was my boss. “It’s Gus. What the fuck does he want at eleven o’clock on a Friday night?”

  With lustful eyes, she watched me hungrily and smiled. “Better find out, Kiefer. And you better do it quick, ‘cause you still have a job to finish.”

  Grunting, I nodded and answered the phone that’d begun to ring again. “Yeah?”

  “Were you just getting laid?” Gus asked immediately, his voice lilting with amusement.

  Rolling my eyes, I asked, “Fuck off, man. Why the hell are you calling me so late?”

  “Sorry,” he said apologetically. “I normally wouldn’t, you know that, but you’ll never guess who I got a call from just now.”

  “Nope, probably not,” I muttered, pulling myself up to sit on the bed.

  “Does the name Devin O’Leary mean anything to you?” Now he just sounded excited.

  I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “Nope. Can’t say that it does.”

  Gus sighed. “Blake, do you live under a fucking rock?”

  “I guess I must.” I wiped a hand along my brow. “Gus, just tell me what the hell is going on, okay? I’m tired.”

  “Okay, okay. I just got a call from Devin O’Leary’s manager. He’s a fucking rock star, man; he’s huge. He and his band are playing a show here on Sunday, but they’re rolling into town tomorrow and they want some ink done.”

  My gut bottomed out. I didn’t know who the fuck this Devin O’Leary was, but given the exuberance in Gus’s tone, I had a feeling this
was a major opportunity. “Well, holy shit,” I uttered on an exhale.

  “Yeah. And guess who they requested?”

  “Jesus, fuck,” I wiped a hand over my mouth as Audrey sat up and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Curiosity blanketed her stare as I asked, “How many of them are there?”

  “Five guys in the band, but only four want ink.”

  “That doesn’t exactly lighten my load here,” I said, thinking about it now in a more realistic light. “How the hell can I design four tattoos and get them done in less than twenty-four hours?”

  “Well, that’s the best part,” Gus went on. “They’re giving you free reign. They want you to decide whatever you want, could be flash, could be shit you already have buried somewhere in all your diaries, I don’t know. Whatever you wanna do, man, it’s up to you.”

  “I’m not sure that’s supposed to make me feel better,” I laughed sardonically.

  “Blake, really, if you think it’s too much, I won’t tell you to do it. But I just want you to realize how big this is for your career.”

  I smiled and nodded adamantly. “Yeah. Yeah, man, I’ll be there.”

  “Fuck, yeah,” Gus replied. “I’ll see you bright and early.”

  I hung up the phone and told Audrey what had happened. Her jaw dropped at the mention of Devin O’Leary’s name and she’d asked in teeny-bopper fashion if she could meet him. Mild jealousy bloomed in my gut as I laughed and told her I didn’t see why not, and she proceeded to bounce excitedly on the bed.

  We made love in a way that felt like art. Delicate, meticulous strokes, gentle swoops of hips and brushes of hands. A painting, playing out only in my mind, vivid and bright with every color of the rainbow. We collapsed on our canvas and twisted in the aftereffects, sighing and drifting toward a dream I hoped she’d be in. And all I could think was, this was a good day.

  Chapter Thirty

  SATURDAY MORNING and Salem Skin could only be described as a madhouse. Even at seven o’clock, a mob had already formed around the front entrance. Excited onlookers crowded around the two tour busses, parked on the street without any effort for discretion. Instantly overwhelmed, I parked the car and took in a trembling breath, gripping the steering wheel with my white-knuckled hands.