Inky

by J. B. Hartnett

  Nico began to add a new leaf right over my spine.

  “What are the leaves?” Gus quietly asked Aimes.

  “The pain.” She answered.

  Chapter 7

  I stayed in my room over the next week, only leaving to use the bathroom and bathe. Basically, I was fucked. Each morning Evan would bring me coffee and Aimes would make sure I had lunch and dinner. She and Gus took turns to check on me throughout the day and covered my work shifts. Lisa was oddly absent. I assumed she felt guilty as well since Evan left to take her home. I insisted that neither one of them had anything to feel guilty about, especially since I was the one who asked Evan to take her home in the first place.

  Aimes called Abe at the gallery. He was one of the few people who knew about my past and he said to take all the time I needed. He also said if I could manage it, to come by before the end of the next week - he had a surprise for me. I was glad I had something outside of the bar to look forward to – a place that would forever be sullied in my memory, I was happy I didn’t have to go to Rusty’s for a while.

  The same female detective came by to share all her benign findings with me. The footage from the bar didn’t help to identify anyone. For me, this was all a formality, although I still wasn’t exactly sure what happened to be honest. I had a mild concussion from my blow to the head but I didn’t pass out; I went into my safe place, a place I hadn’t gone to in years but this time was different.

  After I suffered that anxiety attack at Rusty’s, I decided to paint it out. I often used music to extract a particular emotion I wanted to convey through my painting. Abe observed my behavior was withdrawn one day which meant I was in my ‘creative space.’ Being an artist himself, he recognized this and insisted I go into the back studio and paint. From a couple of sentences and a simple melody, I did extract some old demons and created a piece that was far removed from my normal style. When I escaped to my safe place, pinned in Joe’s grip, there was a soundtrack and a visual provided by Cole. If I ever saw him again, I would thank him.

  ***

  I was bored and I needed to get the hell out of my head. Evan didn’t know what to say to me or what to do for me. I was just kind of numb.

  I wanted and needed to move on.

  The following Monday, I decided I’d had enough solitude. After Evan hesitantly left to go up to a three day recording session in the Valley, I decided to go to the gallery. I wondered what the surprise was that Abe had for me. It was probably a fabulous new piece that he would like me to promote or at the very least hear my opinion on. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to go there and hopefully get some studio time. I headed into the kitchen in search of coffee.

  “Inky?” A giant appeared before me.

  “Jesus! Gus, you scared the crap out of me!” He got up from the table where he and Aimes were having coffee and reading different parts of the paper…very domestic. He approached me slowly and without a word, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. I never noticed how big this guy was before but I remembered in that moment how he picked me up as if I weighed nothing at all and lowered me in the bath. At first I wanted to break the hold he had on me but I gave into it. I heard Aimes scoot her chair away from the table and moments later, her arms were around both of us.

  “Listen Inky…we’re here, okay? Whatever you want, whatever you need, there are a lot of people worried about you…” Gus held my shoulders back and I saw Aimes was crying; she and her man in a united front. “…We’re gonna make this right for you, okay? I can promise you that. Do you understand?” His commanding features and dark brown eyes assured me he meant every word. It was also then that I realized Aimes had told him everything. Not even Evan knew the details about my childhood but Gus the Marine knew it all.

  “Don’t tell Evan, Gus. Please.” I asked softly.

  “He wants you to let him in. He’s been asking Aimes questions. I don’t know the guy well, but he’s worried about you.”

  This was the reason relationships never lasted with me. We could be head over heels in love but they sensed I was hiding something. There was a part of me that would never completely let myself go. It was different with Evan though. I thought I’d given my heart completely. But if that was the case, why didn’t I just tell him? I wasn’t intentionally being deceptive or anything like that, but what was the point? I feared that this knowledge would seep into the more intimate moments of my life and so far, I’d been able to separate the two in my head. It was important to me that I could leave all of that in my past where it belonged.

  “Aimes, I can’t believe you told him.” I said shaking my head back and forth. I wasn’t angry, I was defeated.

  “Ink, I’ve known you since we were twelve years old. I’ve been down this road with you and I know how you’re gonna handle it. You’re gonna pretend like everything’s okay but it’s not.” She looked away and shook her head slowly. “I’ve watched you and you put on a good show but we’re adults now. You tell me. Talk to me and tell me what you need and how you’re feeling and I will do everything I can to help you but you need to tell Evan the truth, Ink. He’s been asking me all week and I don’t know what to say.”

  “He’s never gonna look at me the same way again, don’t you understand? He’ll never kiss me too hard or make love to me too passionately, always wondering if that’s how he did it. It’ll change everything. I may not feel like damaged goods, but he’ll always know that I am.”

  “You don’t know that, Ink.” said Gus. “He might just surprise you.” I could feel myself getting pissed. It suddenly felt like they were ganging up on me.

  “Listen, you know what I need right now?” I asked bitterly.

  “Anything you want, Ink. Anything.” Aimes had started to pull herself together, dabbing at her eyes with a paper towel.

  “I need a ride to the gallery and if you don’t mind too much, Gus, I need some time alone with my girl here…but thank you.” I looked up at him, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. “It means a lot to me that you care.” And I meant it.

  “You have a pretty big fan club. I’m just one of many members.” He said softly. “Okay then, I’ll go get us all some dinner. I’ll make a feast for you gals. You said Evan’s gone and Lisa went to see her folks? Right, cutie?” Aimes blushed deeply, something I’d never seen on her before and nodded.

  “Thank you, hon. We won’t be gone too long.” They kissed sweetly and he cupped the back of her head with one hand and brought her in for a final hard kiss.

  “See you soon.” He said.

  All I could do was smile.

  ***

  In the car, I knew Aimes was dying to talk. I was making her sweat a little bit for sharing my darkest secrets with Gus but I wasn’t surprised. I’d asked her to carry around that information for years and I knew it was always a heavy burden for her to bear.

  She kept silently looking at me every other minute. “Aimes, go, talk, ask me whatever you want.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Are you okay? Tell me the truth. Not what you think I want to hear, the truth.”

  “Actually, I am. I know you don’t believe me but I really am okay. I’ve been thinking about it, the whole thing. He didn’t rape me, Aimes. It was, well, it could’ve been much worse.” She started to cry again, “What? What is it?” I was starting to lose my patience.

  “You’re just, you’re just so, matter of fact about it. It’s like you’re talking about something that happened to someone else.”

  “Pull the car over.” I requested quietly. She ignored me and continued to drive. “Pull the mother fucking car over!” I screamed. She quickly veered to the side of the road and put her hazards on. When the car was in park, I turned to her and calmly spoke, “I am not going to be one of those fucking victims going to support groups and all that shit. I am not going to have some pity party and let everyone look at me with the same sad eyes you’re giving me now – you - of all people, you.” I seethed. “I want this to go away
and be in my past and move on. I had my week of wallowing and I’m done.” I composed myself more before I continued, this time speaking more calmly. “I’m okay, Aimes. I’m gonna be okay.” I tried to catch my breath.

  “Fine.” She said abruptly.

  “Fine?” I bit out. I watched her as her shoulders slumped and her hands hung from the steering wheel.

  “Yes.” Her sad tone brought me down from my anger.

  “How come I don’t believe you?”

  “I asked you what you needed, Ink. If this is what you need, okay. But I have to say something to you without you screaming at me, okay?”

  “Okay. I won’t scream at you.”

  “Promise?”

  I rolled my eyes, “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

  “Okay, okay…you need to talk to Evan. Really, Ink.”

  I let out a deep sigh. “Okay. I will. I promise I will talk to him. I’ll talk to him in person when he gets back, okay?”

  “Okay.” She put the car back in drive, turned off the hazards and moved into the traffic.

  “Aimes?” I wasn’t sure what to say about Cole but I didn’t want to keep it from my best friend.

  “Yeah?”

  “I kind of want to tell you something else but I’m not sure how I feel about it yet but I thought you should be prepared that I might.”

  “Inky, that was totally and completely random.”

  “I know and I’m sorry, but it’s the best I can do right now, Aimes. I’m just processing about a million different things in my brain.”

  “Gotcha.” She pulled into a spot right in front of the gallery.

  Coming to this job was like entering my own little sanctuary. I loved the white walls and down lights. The wood floors and the soft jazz playing in the back ground. When the wooden door closed behind me and the little bell dinged, Abe appeared at the backroom doorway.

  “Are there any other customers in here?” He asked, his manicured hands appearing casually placed on his hips.

  “I don’t think so. How are you, Abe?” Aimes flanked my side.

  “Oh, Jesus H. Christ, Inky, how am I? Come here and give me a squeeze!” This man had the best energy ever. There was no point trying to pout in his presence. He could turn anyone’s frown upside down. It helped that he had a year round tan, beautiful blue eyes and a compliment ready to fly.

  Engulfed in his Prada clad embrace, I inhaled the delicious scent of him. He was just a couple of inches taller than me and lean, but I could feel he was strong and knew he ran every morning with his Jack Russell.

  “Hi, Aimes. Have you been taking good care of her?”

  “’Sure have, Abe.”

  “Oh, and you’ve been crying. You poor thing.” He held my eyes with a mock glare. “Inky, did you make your friend here cry?” he asked in a mocking tone.

  “A little bit.” I replied sheepishly.

  “Well, you get an A-plus for honesty and Aimes, you get an A-plus for being a good friend. Now then, girls, come this way. I have something to take your mind off the doom and gloom.” He led us to the far wall of the gallery and I was suddenly awestruck.

  “Abe!” A large painting I’d done only a month ago hung on the back wall. “Oh, Abe, I never thought you would show this. How did you... ?” Abe gave me time in his private studio out back. It allowed me to paint without being disturbed which I relished and appreciated.

  “Look a little closer.” He urged. I approached the wall and saw the card to the side.

  Anika Redding,

  The Seaside.

  SOLD!

  “Sold? You sold my painting? I sold my first painting!” Talk about a week of ups and downs.

  “Ink! You did it!” I think Aimes was happier than I was, squealing and jumping around.

  “Well, I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. I was looking over your work and I found this. I loved it. It wasn’t overdone but it invoked such a strong feeling in me. I don’t know what inspired this but it tells a story, that’s for sure. I thought I’d hang it, see what kind of feedback I’d get and on Monday, a man came in, young, hot but not in an arrogant don’t-I-know-it way, looked around and asked about this piece. I didn’t even haggle on a price. He said it didn’t matter... he had to have it. I swear to God, I think he had tears in his eyes.”

  “I hate to ask, Abe, but how much?” I was scared to ask.

  “You mean after my commission?” He laughed.

  “Of course.”

  “Ten-five.”

  “Excuse me?” I gasped.

  “Ten thous…”

  “No, I heard you but I don’t believe you.”

  “Darling, you realize that in the art world, that’s not really very much, right? I mean, that Andy Warhol piece of crap Marilyn sold for eighty mill back in the day. And you know how I feel about him.”

  “Yes, I know…” I patted him soothingly.

  “The point is, I just threw a number at him and he said ‘fine, whatever’ and just kept staring at it.”

  “Holy shit, Inky, you’re gonna be famous.” Aimes was crying again but these were happy tears.

  “It’s exciting isn’t it? I get to tell people I discovered you,” Abe gushed. “Now, I asked him if I could keep it for another week to display it but I have another proposition to discuss with you.” Something about the way Abe spoke felt ominous. The fact alone that a painting of mine sold was already overwhelming.

  “Can we take a photo of it?” I asked, “You know, before it’s gone?”

  “How about I take a photo of you with it?”

  I knew my face still had a sizeable bruise even though it was mostly covered by my hair. Abe saw me touch the side of my head. “Oh, come on, you’re an artist! We’ll get you on an angle; no one will be able to tell.”

  “Okay, you talked me into it. Do you know the buyer?”

  “Now that I can’t answer.”

  “Why?”

  “He didn’t leave his name. The sale is through a business. I can check for you though. But he’ll be here on Saturday morning at 10am to pick it up. Well, he said he would like to see it being transported, he wanted to supervise basically.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “You won’t be disappointed. He’s all kinds of eye candy.” Abe’s mood changed to a serious one. I dreaded that he was about to ask me about the attack, “Mind if we talk in the back for a second, Aimes? I won’t keep her long, I promise.”

  “Not at all, Abe. Don’t upset her.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. Come on, honey-bunny.”

  Chapter 8

  I didn’t know what to expect when Abe ushered me into his office but I prepared myself to answer questions about Joe. Aimes was left in the gallery to hold down the fort. I could feel how proud she was of me and she knew how much I wanted this. It wasn’t about leaving my mark on the art world, I didn’t care about that or money or fame…I mean, I wasn’t an idiot; making a living as an artist was no easy feat. I just wanted to make enough money to do what I loved. If I had to tend bar for the rest of my life, I didn’t care. All I needed or wanted at this point was a place to sleep, food to eat, and a way to let the sea of emotions in my head transform into art.

  Sea.

  I needed to talk to Aimes about this. I needed her feedback. I was going to come clean about Cole, the guy who talked me through my panic attack. I almost said something in the car but I wasn’t sure if I should. She wouldn’t judge me. That was the great thing about our friendship; I knew no matter what, she had my back and in return, I had hers. No doubt, she was looking at the large painting hanging prominently in the other room. It was so different from my usual style of bold, dark colors and depressing imagery. I entered a piece in a local show last year and someone commented that it looked like an Emo Goth kid’s high school art project – yeah, that one stung a bit.

  When the office door closed, Abe grabbed me into his arms. What was with everybody today?

  “God fucking damn it, Ink? Are you fucking crazy
? How could you walk home at three in the morning in that neighborhood? What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have a death wish or something?” I knew he was letting his fear and relief pour out but, whoa.

  “Abe…” I had started to giggle. “I’m okay. I just had this conversation with Aimes on the way here, but with less ‘fuck’ words. And did you see her face? Do you really want me to make you cry?” I smiled. He pulled back and kept his hands on my shoulders.

  “Well, no.” he chuckled “But please, don’t ever fucking do that again! You call me. Day or night, I don’t give a flying!”

  “Oh, I don’t plan on making it a habit or anything. Now, what did you want to talk to me about or was that just an excuse to get me in here and yell at me?”

  “Actually, the former. You know the Gillies Exhibition? Very prestigious, blah, blah, blah?”

  “Yes, of course. Oh my God, Abe! Did you enter? Did some of your work get chosen?” If that was the case, Abe wouldn’t be running this little gallery much longer. Actually, our gallery was owned by some guy I’d never met that had nothing better to do with his money than buy small businesses. Art galleries had become his wife’s new hobby about four years ago. I shouldn’t complain; I’d never met either one of them and I was definitely reaping the benefits. Abe explained that once a week they would come in when the gallery was closed and look over the work on display. Even if I loathed the idea of the elitist- upper class deciding whether or not something qualified as ‘art,’ the Missus had a good eye for talent. She was also on the board of directors for the Gillies Exhibition and Foundation.

  “Actually, I didn’t enter this year. I lied to you, Ink but I wanted to tell you in private first.” He lied to me?

  “You didn’t really sell my painting, did you?” Oh God, why would he say he did if he didn’t?