Inked Babies: Epilogue to Inked Brotherhood

by Jo Raven

  “It’s just a sedative to help him sleep,” Rafe says, seeming to sense my agitation. “He shouldn’t be taking them for long, just to see if they help. I check everything he’s taking, don’t worry about it.”

  I actually wasn’t thinking about addiction issues, though I should have, sitting there with Rafe and Tyler who’d both been through that hell.

  “Good. I just…” Fuck. I nod. “That’s good. He’s getting help. Tyler was right.” I can’t bear to look at my brother. Not that he’d gloat—he cares about Zane as much as all of us—but speaking the words is hard. “You were right, Ty. It wasn’t true.”

  “But you don’t believe it,” Dylan says, and time jerks to a stop.

  I look up, mouth open, and find everyone watching me. Even Scott has stopped licking the edge of Tyler’s chair and gazes at me, his gray eyes huge.

  “I…” I choke. “What?”

  “You didn’t believe that Zane’s mind made this shit up back when we first discussed this, and you don’t believe it now.”

  “Yeah, well. Makes no difference.”

  Tyler reaches over and slaps me on the back. The look on his face is sympathetic.

  I don’t need sympathy. I need Zane to be fine. I need the world to get back on track. And I need this damn feeling of wrongness to stop twisting me up inside so that I can fucking breathe again.

  “Tell us what those papers said. Zane’s folder.” Rafe leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “No matter what Ash believes, what any of us believe…” His gaze is uncertain. “Let’s go over this one last time.”

  ***

  “So nowhere in those documents was the name of this guy mentioned? This Tyrell?” Dylan accepts a fluffy bit of lint from Scott who smiles toothily at him and continues with his exploration.

  I keep an eye on my son as he moves toward the desk. “No. Or any address in Wausau.”

  “Damn.”

  Yeah. My feelings exactly.

  “What happened to the folder?” Tyler asks. “Can we see it?”

  “Zane has it.”

  “Shit.” Dylan’s expression is dark, and I wonder what the hell’s going on with him. I don’t ask, though.

  The bad feeling has my stomach churning. Maybe it’s worry. Stress. Something’s got my stomach churning anyway. I’m probably coming down with some virus or other and thinking it’s all in my mind.

  Whereas Zane thought what happened to him was true, when it was all in his mind.

  I bend over, grimacing.

  “Ash.” Tyler reaches for me.

  I shrug his hand off and straighten. “I think I’ll take Scott home. He needs to rest.”

  And I need to sit alone and have a stiff drink.

  Just then, my cell phone rings, and I pull it out of my pocket, thinking it might be Audrey.

  It’s not. An unknown woman’s voice says, “Is this Asher?”

  Frowning, I reach for Scott who staggers just out of reach. “Yes. Who is that?”

  “Oh, you don’t know me. I’m here with a friend of yours. Found him outside my shop, and he passed me his phone to call you. He, uh, he seems a little confused, and he’s a bit bruised, but he’s all right. Zane, he says his name is. Would you come pick him up?”

  ***

  Fuck.

  That’s all I can think as I carry Scott to the car and buckle him in. Fuck, fuck, fuck. No wonder my stomach was all knotted.

  Because I’m a fucking psychic now, apparently.

  Or I was just waiting for something bad to happen, as it usually does when the avalanche starts rolling. No such thing as a mildly bad situation. No, it has to take us to hell and back before we even know what’s going on.

  “Ash, wait!” Tyler is jogging after me. “Coming with you.”

  I nod and sit behind the wheel, forcing my hands to steady, running the address the woman gave me over the phone over and over in my mind, in case I forget it.

  As if I could.

  “What the fuck was Zen-man doing near Woodland Park?” Tyler mutters, settling in the passenger seat and closing the door with a slam that makes me wince. “Wasn’t he supposed to be home?”

  “Dunno.” I back out of the parking spot and into the street. “Isn’t his therapist’s office in that area?”

  “I think Dakota mentioned a street off Waunona Way.”

  “That’s by the lake. I know it.”

  “Yup.” He’s staring at me, as if waiting for something.

  “What?”

  “It’s not that far from the Walmart Supercenter.”

  I glance at him. “I thought we’d agreed that lead didn’t work out, Detective Tyler Devlin.”

  “Grayson,” he mutters distractedly, turning to look out the window.

  I sigh.

  Tyler has decided he’ll never use Dad’s family name ever again, since he isn’t Dad’s biological son, and Dad branded him as a bastard—quite literally carved the word across his chest and tried to kill him.

  Sometimes I think it’s childish to insist on that, then I remember what was done to him and am mad at myself for even thinking it.

  He says nothing more as I drive around the lake toward the address. Scott has fallen asleep in his car seat, his little head lolling to the side, like always during car drives, and I smile fondly at him.

  Then we reach our destination, and reality slams back in, like a fist to my gut.

  Zane is standing outside the bakery, inked arms folded over his chest, his Mohawk spiky, a scowl on his face. A woman is leaning in the open door, talking to him.

  While I park, barking at Tyler to stay in with Scott and jumping out of the car, Zane shakes his head at what she’s saying.

  Then he sees me and starts toward me.

  The moment I reach him, I grab him in a hard bear hug, holding on to his stiff body, trying to convince myself everything’s gonna be okay.

  “Ash. Get off me, fucker,” Zane mutters, but doesn’t push me off. “I’m okay.”

  It takes me a moment to let go, and even then I keep a grip on his arm.

  So sue me. I’ve been getting an ulcer fearing the worst for days, and I don’t know what the fuck went down, only that it isn’t anything good.

  “Okay?” I take stock of his bruised face, the blood staining his light-blue T-shirt. “What are you doing out here? Why are you all bloodied? Dammit, Z-man.”

  “I said I’m goddamn fine, just…” He glances back at the woman who’s taking her time walking toward us, probably giving us space. “Just let go, fucker.”

  There’s wetness in his eyes. His breathing is ragged. Beneath the pissed-off attitude, there’s a world of fear.

  I turn toward the woman. “You called me?” I ask her. “What happened?”

  “Christ,” Zane mutters, wrenching his arm free of me and marching toward the car.

  I let him go in favor of getting the details on this clusterfuck. “Thank you for calling me.”

  “No problem.” She looks after Zane as he climbs into the car. “He seems like a nice young man. I can understand that he’s afraid.”

  I grit my teeth. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Sure.” She tucks a strand of gray hair behind her ear and pats her stained apron. “I’d gone out back to take out the trash and found him there, behind the dumpster, sitting on the street, shaking. Made my heart hurt, poor boy.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Tyler leaning over the backseat, talking to Zane. I hope they don’t come to punches, not with Scott in there.

  “Did he tell you why he was there?”

  “He said he was lost.”

  Goddammit. I wrench my gaze from the car and nod at her. “And then?”

  “I asked if he had a phone, and he said he did. Then I said we should call his family. He said to call Asher. So I did.”

  The knot in my throat has grown so big I can hardly swallow. “Good thing you did. We didn’t even know he was gone until you called.”

  �
��Is he…” She hesitates. “Is it a mental problem? I don’t mean anything bad by that, so many people have them.”

  I don’t know if to yell or fucking weep. “No, he’s just tired. Lots on his mind right now.” I reach for her hand, shake it. “Can’t thank you enough.”

  “It’s quite all right.” She smiles. “Is he your brother? You don’t look alike, but—”

  “Yes,” I say without hesitation. “Yes, he is.”

  ***

  I buy some bread and cake off the woman to thank her for taking care of Zane, then head back to the car and climb inside.

  Tyler receives the paper bag and leans his head back with a sigh. “We’ll talk later,” he says quietly, and I shoot him a narrow look.

  “What—?”

  He jabs a thumb over his shoulder, and I turn to see.

  Zane is fast asleep, sprawled in the back seat, an arm thrown over his eyes, the colorful ink catching the low rays of the sun. Scott is still asleep, too, his little face scrunched up with some dream.

  I fold my arms on the wheel and drop my forehead on them. “Jesus fuck. What are we gonna do?”

  “Drive Zane home,” Tyler says, the voice of reason. “And get the truth of what happened out of him.”

  “Could the pills he took have done this, like make him—?”

  “Nah, I don’t think so. Something else happened.” He pats my arm. “Come on, Ash, let’s go now before you crash, too.”

  “Why would I crash?”

  “You’ve been strung like the lights on a Christmas tree, so just shut up and drive. I know what I’m talking about.”

  So I do. I take us home.

  ***

  Dakota isn’t at their apartment, and a call to Audrey confirms she’s with her. They’ve taken the kids to the mall. When she asks if everything’s okay, I tell her yes.

  There’s time to discuss this with her later.

  After I’ve sat Zane down and dragged the truth out of him.

  He sinks into the sofa and puts his head in his hands. “Hell.”

  “What were you doing there, Z-man?” I glance at Tyler who’s talking on the phone to Rafe, telling him we found Zane. “Weren’t you supposed to be at home, resting?”

  He looks up, his gaze flat. “I had an appointment with the psychiatrist. I drove there, and… Fuck, the pick-up. I left it there.”

  “We’ll go get it. Now tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t fucking know.”

  And that was what I was afraid of. A chill snakes down my spine. “Shut up. You have to remember something.”

  “Because it will make your life easier? We’ve already established that my memory is shit, and we should never fucking trust it.”

  I sink down on the sofa beside him, my knees suddenly weak. “Dammit.”

  He groans. “Sorry, Ash. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

  “What for?”

  “For this. For sending you guys on a wild goose chase, when it was all in my mind. When I thought I saw…” He winces, rubs his forehead. “God fuck, I thought I saw him again.”

  “When?”

  “Today. As I came out…out near the psychiatrist’s building. That car…the sedan, and then I started to run.” He turns toward me, his dark eyes so wide there’s more white than pupil. “I ran until I couldn’t fucking breathe. I could fucking swear the car was following me, and then I could hear him running behind me, could feel his fucking hands on me, smell the burnt flesh… Dammit, Ash, I ran like hell, and he was still behind me, and I… I don’t remember how it all ended.”

  He’s panting like he’s still running.

  I scrub a hand over my eyes. “That lady found you hiding behind a dumpster.”

  “Fuck.”

  Yeah. “What about these? The bruises, the…” I gesture at his T-shirt. “The blood.”

  He blinks down at his shirt and swallows hard. “Fuck if I know.” He runs his hand over the stains. It’s shaking like an old man’s.

  “Maybe you fell?” I try to gather my thoughts. “You had a goddamn flashback. When was the last time you had one?”

  “I don’t…” He shakes his head. “Last time. Last time I saw the car. Two weeks ago?”

  “So that car is a trigger, for some reason.”

  “It’s not… I don’t know anymore. I’m fucking crazy, Ash. Batshit. Fit for the straitjacket. Don’t you see?”

  “Z-man…”

  But he shoots to his feet and starts pacing, running his hands over the shaved sides of his head in agitation. “I shouldn’t be around Dakota, shouldn’t be around the baby. What if I hurt them, what if I zone out and put them in danger? Fuck. What if I think I’m being attacked and lash out, what if—?”

  “Zane.” Fuck this shit. In two strides I’m in his face, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Snap out of it. You’re not crazy. And you’re not hurting anyone besides yourself.”

  That’s a fucking lie, of course. He’s hurting us all, but hey, it’s not like he has a choice in the matter.

  “Tell me about this car.” I haul him back to the sofa and drop his ass there, prepared to wrangle him back down if he tries to go. “Where did you see it? Was there anything else, anything you remember?”

  “Why are you still asking me?” he bites out the question, the knot in his throat working. “What’s the fucking use? I’ll take the fucking pills and stay low until my brain either shuts down or explodes.”

  “Zane,” I draw a shallow breath, “listen to me, goddammit. You’re not crazy. Something doesn’t add up here, and I’ll find it. Gimme the folder you got from the agency. I’ll check the papers again.”

  “Shut up, fucker.” But a light flickers in his dark gaze. “You’ll find jack shit.”

  “Maybe so. Give it to me.”

  “Shut up,” he says again, more quietly this time. “I’m off my rocker. You’re wasting your time. It’s all in my mind.”

  But what if, after all, it’s not?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Audrey

  “So what was the fight about?” I glance at Tessa over the rim of my cup and sip at my spiced chai latte. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You and Dylan.”

  We’re at the mall with the other girls and babies, but I’ve kidnapped Tessa for a bit, trying to get her to talk to me. She’s been drifting like a sad ghost, and I can’t stand seeing her like this.

  Seeing more of my friends in pain.

  “Told, you, I don’t even really know.” She turns her tiny espresso cup around and around in its saucer.

  Since when does Tessa drink espresso? Girl has changed so much over the past year I barely recognize her.

  “But something must have started it.”

  “God.” She chews on a black-painted nail and scowls at the couple sitting at the next table. They’re holding hands and staring, star-struck, into each other’s eyes. “He asked me to go out with him next Friday. But I had to cancel because of work. And then… I asked him if he was free another day. He said no. I could see he was upset.”

  I bite my lip, my eyes stinging. God, no.

  “So I said, what about the week after? I said I’ll cancel my next trip. Go camping, go wherever with them. With him. And he told me I should feel free to keep traveling. That I shouldn’t worry about him and his brothers. I told him I can’t do that. Can’t stop worrying. He said he doesn’t want to be my problem.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you told him he’s not a problem.”

  “I told him… that he was being an ass.”

  “Double ouch.”

  “What was I supposed to say?” She leans back in her chair, eyes shimmering. “Why is he acting like that? Hot and cold. He keeps saying I should feel free, have fun, travel—then he gets upset when I’m not always there.”

  “So this happened before? That he got upset because of you being so busy?”

  She shakes her head. “No. He’s always been so su
pportive, Aud. Always telling me I should do my thing, follow my dreams, find myself. Only…”

  “Only what?”

  “I want him. Him, and his brothers, this little family we have. Above all I want Dylan, and I’m so scared that somehow I managed to break what we have.”

  “It’s not you, Tess. Something doesn’t make sense here. He loves you.”

  “But what if it’s not enough? What if I’m not enough?”

  “Tess, no, you can’t start thinking like that again. This is a misunderstanding. It will be cleared, and everything will be fine.”

  Has to be.

  I have to talk to Ash.

  “I’d give everything else up,” she says, her voice cracking. “Doesn’t he know that? Everything to be with him.”

  “I’m sure he knows,” I say even as doubt assaults me. “Don’t worry, girl. It’ll be all right.”

  I only wish I were as sure as I sounded…

  ***

  “He what?” I stare at Ash who has just told me he retrieved Zane who’s had a bad flashback and got lost wandering in the city. “Why didn’t you tell me? Us? Dakota was with us. You should have told us immediately.”

  “Sorry.” He’s not meeting my gaze, his face drawn with fatigue. “My first thought was to go get him, make sure he’s safe, and then… then we talked, and I didn’t wanna worry anyone. Tyler called Dakota, though, sometime after we brought Zane home.”

  “That’s why she left earlier.” I check on Scott who’s fast asleep in his crib by the sofa. “She wouldn’t say why.”

  “Sorry, Auds, I’m—”

  I kneel in front of him, put my hands on his knees. “Breathe, Ash. And tell me what happened.”

  He nods, grabs my hands and hauls me up, ignoring my gasp, not satisfied until I’m curled up on his lap, in his arms. “I didn’t mean to keep you out of the loop,” he rasps. “I’m at my fucking wits’ end.”

  “I know.” I stroke his face, the faint rasp of stubble on his jaw. “It was that bad, huh?”

  “It was bad. Fucking flashbacks.”

  “Does he remember what happened?”

  “Some of it. Says he thought that the car was coming after him, and then the man, that he felt the man touch him, and burn him. He’s fucking caught between realities.” Ash buries his face in my neck. “He can’t remember hiding behind the dumpster where the lady who called me found him. Can’t remember how he got bruised and bloodied. Hell…”