Inky

by J. B. Hartnett

  When he found me, I was immersed in a drawing. I had a large sketch pad laid out in front of me with a pencil in hand. I hadn’t started to create anything in particular but the action itself was soothing.

  “Anika?” His voice was soothing like his mother’s but much lower of course; gentle and smooth, one of the first things I noticed about him.

  “I…” A lump sat in my throat. If I tried to talk, there’d be tears. I decided not to say anything at all. He sat on the floor and wrapped his body around me, holding me tight.

  “You know, if you don’t want to marry me, I think my mom might be interested.” He smiled and sat down across from me.

  “What?” I stilled.

  “She’s very taken with you.”

  “Really?” I said sarcastically. “After that Oscar worthy performance?”

  “That implies you were pretending and we both know that’s not true. No, not because of that. Because you were real with her, you were honest. She also thinks you’re good for me.”

  “I…I try to be strong, Cole.” I cried. “I hate this so much. I don’t want to be this weak person. I haven’t been like this in years, literally, years. And all of the sudden, it started that day after I sang and Gus asked me about it. That was the first time in years. And then, after Joe attacked me, and Evan and Lisa, and then you and the exhibit and everything. It’s just everything, all at once. I’m finding it really hard to cope.”

  “Tell me what you need, Anika and I will help you. I told you, I’m a lot further along in this process than you are.”

  “How attached are you to those billion thread count sheets on the bed here?”

  “Not attached at all?”

  “Did you happen to get canvas on this art shopping spree?”

  “In the garage.”

  “Do you own a white wife beater?”

  “Yes.”

  “A CD player with something angry and dark?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Can you bring me all those things along with my ripped jeans, a glass of white wine and a bottle of water?”

  He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me gently on the lips, “I thought you’d never ask.”

  I spread out everything he’d bought and organized it, taking off tags and plastic, setting up my pallet and noting he’d even been thoughtful enough to put empty jars in the bags for the brushes. Slowly but surely, all the items I asked for were laid before me. I plugged in the little boom box and flipped through his CDs, some very surprising selections. Finally, he handed me a bottle of water and laid the clothes folded at my feet.

  I arranged the large blank canvas on the easel and started to change. Pulling off the top and my bra, pulling down my pants and underwear, I stood naked, facing the ocean. I pulled the jeans up and the wife beater over my head. “I’ll have to get you a new wife-beater. It won’t be sparkling white when I’m done with it.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m gonna keep it hidden away and when you’re not here, it’ll replace my dirty magazines with it.” I had to see his face to determine whether or not he was joking. He winked, which still didn’t explain but I decided he was being funny.

  “You’re filthy. Awesome.” I chuckled.

  “I’ll bring you some wine later. You have everything you need?” He moved toward the doorway.

  “Yeah.” I was trying to decide between two CDs. “I would never have pegged you as a Slayer fan?”

  “I went to one concert. During my anxious years.” He smiled. “Is this your standard painting attire?”

  “Yep.”

  “It’s hot.” He eyes scanned my body. His hands ran through his thick hair.

  “I’m glad you think so because later, I’m going to require a hard angry fuck.” I smiled back at him over my shoulder. His erection obvious in his cargos.

  “I better go do something else then…uh, I’m not trying to handle you but I called Aimes and told her you weren’t coming.”

  “Did you tell her why?” I continued my set up, squeezing paint from tubes onto a wooden pallet and wondering if he’d noticed I use wood at home.

  “In a nutshell. She asked if you needed her. I said I had it covered. And I arranged for that painting to be brought to the gallery tomorrow. Is that all okay? I don’t want to over-step or any... ” He didn’t get a chance to finish talking. I threw myself at him and kissed him deeply.

  “Thank you, Cole.” I whispered to him as I pulled away, carefully keeping the pallet held out of the way.

  “Is it okay if I check in and watch now and then?”

  “Absolutely. I’m happy to share this with you. No one’s ever wanted to before. Or maybe I made it seem like it wasn’t okay; I’m not sure, but I welcome that. But don’t be mad if I ignore you.” He brushed his hand down my side to my hip and squeezed.

  “No way, Anika. I can’t imagine what you could do to make me mad. Unless of course you decide you don’t like me and even then…it’d be worth it just for what is turning out to be the best weekend of my entire life.”

  “You say that now.” I laughed and pulled away from him. “I’m gonna get started. Are the neighbors gonna be pissed about volume?”

  “You can’t hear anything from here. I’ll see you soon.”

  And there I was. Alone in my borrowed studio in paradise, living my dream. Funny how I looked up at a house just like this when Cole and I walked on the beach that day. I never imagined it would become a reality. When I hit play and repeat all, I began.

  I washed the entire canvas in a light grey. I was grateful Cole provided oil and acrylic paint. I chose acrylic, not wanting to wait for things to dry. This was a process I normally did at night, over several days, even months. If I needed the paint to be a little wet, I added a medium. This process was reserved for when I needed to get around a particular memory, excise it and deal with it. Lately, it was getting harder and harder to cope.

  In the past, I knew what to avoid. Anything that brought up particular incidents or feelings, I avoided. Singing was a prominent one. I was grateful that sex hadn’t been ruined for me. Somehow I knew what I’d suffered wasn’t sexual, it was psychological - hate and evil. With the sounds of Slayer hammering around me, my grey canvas became host to deep, crimson red lips and jet black hair, flying, whipping around a white, nude female body, delicate hands feebly trying to protect vulnerable parts, the grey melding with black and white, becoming a thin blade jutting out from the ground, the female trying in vain not to be impaled by it. So much anger. So much hate. I just wanted to get it the fuck out of me. With a brush arranged deftly between my fingers, I took a step back and sat on the edge of the bed, picking up the single glass of wine on the floor and taking a small sip – Cole was here. He was behind me, probably on the bed, watching. I don’t know how long it’d been, maybe hours. It was still light outside so maybe three or four I estimated.

  I set the glass down and went in again, this time adding the fine details. Blood on the blade, wounds on the flesh, terror on the face. The next time I stopped, I put the brush in the water and swished it around, took it out and wiped it with a cloth. I’d clean it properly later but this would do for now. I went through a lot of brushes. I didn’t care if one got ruined as wasteful as that seemed.

  This time, I picked up the glass and sat down on the edge of the bed. I felt strong, bare arms around me, his chin on my shoulder, his legs in jeans, those jeans, and bare feet. “It’s done, isn’t it?” He asked.

  “Yes.” I handed him the glass so he could have a sip.

  “It’s amazing, Anika.”

  “I feel so much better.” And I did. Maybe it was the entrance of Cole into my life. It was almost as if he gave me the permission I needed to experience this raw emotion. Not just paint it out and move on. I’d been doing that for years and it wasn’t working anymore. Now I was open, my wound right there for him to see and for the first time in my life I was okay with that.

  “You know that hard fuck you wanted?” He asked in
a low, dark voice.

  “Yes.” I sighed as his warm breath hit my neck.

  “Is anything off limits for you?”

  “Not heavy Sado stuff.”

  “No, nothing like that. I mean anything that might be a trigger I should know about.”

  “Don’t piss on me.” I could feel him tense at my words.

  “No, oh my…I only want to help you get the hurt out. I will never defile you. Never. Turn around and look at me.” I turned to face him. “Wrap your arms and legs around my waist.” He did the same and enveloped me in a tight embrace. “I can’t do what you asked me to. I’m sorry, Anika.” He shook his head back and forth.

  “What do you mean?” I asked trying to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let me go.

  “I can’t give you the hard angry fuck you asked for. Turn around and look at your painting.”

  I did as he asked. “Okay. And?” I was beginning to get defensive.

  “That’s your hard angry fuck. Now look at me.” I turned around and saw his eyes, his beautiful hazel eyes that reminded me of autumn. “I am going to make love to you. I want to give you the opposite of that pain because that’s what I want to be for you. That’s your past. And I... ”

  I turned back around and our lips met. I knew what he was going to say but there was no need. Just the fact that he’d taken charge of everything left me feeling full of love and light. I didn’t feel undermined or handled, I felt cared for.

  “This is what you do to me. The power of your art, your beauty, your pain…I want all of it, Anika. You’re my answer.”

  That was all I needed. His hands fisted into my hair as we kissed again. His soft tongue began to glide across my cheek, down my neck. He lowered me onto my back, the sounds of the high tide crashing, barely audible as it mingled with its heavy metal partner but I hardly noticed. I felt and heard Cole’s breathing, the beating of his heart increasing. All the chaos around us was a stark contrast to the tenderness of his loving touch as he removed my jeans and the paint-stained shirt. His wet kisses trailed down my chest until he drew my nipple into his mouth. His fingers swept down the sides of my body, down my hips, slowly lifting one leg and bringing his hand to rest above my painful ache. Slowly he teased his way through my lower lips, invited in by the wet heat he’d created with just his kiss. He entered me, letting me adjust to him in stages. When he filled me completely to the hilt, wrapping his hands around my shoulders, his movements languid and thoughtful, he began to whisper in my ear with each slow thrust…

  Beautiful.

  Perfect.

  Talented.

  Loved.

  Mine.

  Forever…

  His mouth hard against mine, saying something incoherent as we came together, the mantra he was chanting to me, with me…I lost myself in him.

  As we slowed and took deep breaths, regaining our powers of speech, he brushed my hair from my face.

  “What did you mean before, ‘You’re my answer’?” I enquired.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Of course.”

  “To my prayers, Anika.” I closed my eyes and sent up my own thankful prayer.

  Wrapped up in luxurious sheets, the scent of fresh paint, the ocean and sex mingled in the room around us. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Anything. You can tell me anything, Anika.”

  “I love you, Cole.” I had never been more sure about anything.

  He pulled his head up and looked at me, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 28

  After making arrangements for my painting to be picked up, apparently Cole decided Aimes and I needed a girly day at his house. He had something work related to do which I found interesting since I still had no idea what it was he did exactly. As far as I could tell, his lifestyle was champagne wishes and caviar dreams, even if he did resent it.

  I’d left the gate open and when I heard knocking, I was almost jumping out of my skin. I made a beeline for the front door and threw it open to Aimes and her smiling face.

  “Ahhhhh!” We squealed and embraced like it had been years instead of two days since we’d seen each other last.

  “Come on in. Wait until you see what he did for us.”

  “What did he do?” She followed me through the entry and into the kitchen, throwing her purse on the island.

  “He had lunch delivered from this place we ate at yesterday with his mom. It’s basically fancy Mexican and it is so freakin’ good. I got through an entire omelet before I had my meltdown.” I laughed about it but Aimes always took these things more seriously so she held back her laughter.

  “Wow, this place is…” Her eyes took a sweeping glance around the room.

  “Beautiful, huh? His mom apparently helped him decorate. I like all the wood. The floors are bamboo. I didn’t even know they made floors out of bamboo. Apparently it’s a really quick crop, grows like a weed. Unlike a pine tree or an oak or something.”

  “So it’s not just sex. You actually have conversations?” She asked with eyebrows raised.

  “Of course we have actual conversations, you cow.” I laughed and hugged her tight again. “God, Aimes, it’s so good to see you and now you’re in front of me, congratulations again. What do you want to drink?”

  “Just water for now. Mind if I wander around?”

  “Not at all. Actually, take a left and check it out.” I was steering her toward my painting of the seaside. I knew she would be proud of me and I wanted to share the amazing sight of my work hanging in someone’s home.

  “Oh, Inky. This is amazing.” She ran from the room and quickly returned with her cell phone and took a picture.

  “Aimes!” I mock scolded her. “I have a feeling you’ll be here again. It’s not the Louvre.”

  “For posterity my friend. This is pretty cool.” I loved that she was so happy for me. I felt it radiate from her.

  “Come on, I’ll show you what else he did for me and then we’ll eat by the pool.” She followed me up the stairs to Cole’s bedroom and began to mill about the room. I hadn’t realized I’d lost her until I heard her shouting from the bathroom.

  “Ah, yes, and can you sign me up for a hot rock massage with Kiki at one? Oh, you’re a doll, Bridgette.” I couldn’t contain my laughter. I absolutely loved her sense of humor. When she appeared in the bedroom again she looked gob smacked. “Seriously dude? You got the dream-date boyfriend. Fucking A, Inky.”

  “But wait! There’s more!!” I made a dramatic glide across the floor.

  “Lead the way, Vanna.” She laughed.

  This was the most important part to me and I knew above everything else, she would understand why I fell so hard and so fast for Cole. When the site of the disheveled bed and the piece of intense art hit her, I didn’t have to look to know the emotions she was having.

  “He made you a studio space?” She stated. “Holy fuck.”

  “Yeah. He sure did.” I agreed as we stood silently. I decided to break the mood. “Let’s eat. I have a theory about this.”

  ***

  I made us iced tea to accompany our enchiladas with all the fixings and traditional sides. As I was pouring, feeling like the consummate hostess, Aimes was examining me not so patiently. “Okay, spill.” She threw her hands up. “And by the way, I feel like you’re about to hand me a big envelope of cash like that part in Pretty Woman when she hands her friend…Kat? Kit?... the money and is all, “we believe in you, blah, blah, blah.” I laughed out loud. All I was missing was the tailored suit. “So, what’s your theory?” She asked.

  “I’ll tell you the theory and then you tell me all about you and Gus. Deal?”

  “Deal. Theory. Go.”

  “Well, after my first anxiety attack on Friday, I think he wanted me to stay but also thought I was gonna need an outlet. I hadn’t realized at the time what a big deal Friday night was.”

  “Inky? It was a pretty big fucking deal. You had a fight in a bar.
You confronted your ex and his new girlfriend. You Bedazzled his shirt which by the way, great job on that one, you sang…Inky. It was a big deal.”

  “Well, he saw the painting at home. The one set to the Split Enz song…and I gave him the headphones and explained my process. He knew, even before I did, what I’d need. That’s my theory of why he made me a studio. Can we talk about you, Aimes? I feel like the worst friend ever.”

  “Inky, are you serious?” She looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

  “Well, yeah. I decided I need to stop relying on you so much. I mean it. You have done, oh…I don’t want to start crying here…so much for me since we were kids. I just want to be there for you for a change.” I was trying to make the hot sting behind my eyes stay put.

  “It’s funny you would say this. Last night, Gus and I were lying in bed talking and he told me how the day Cole came in to apologize and you had that attack, he felt terrible because he was pretty sure he set it off. He asked you about singing or something.”

  “You tell Gus from me, not to feel bad. It would’ve happened anyway.”

  “Well, regardless. He also said he asked you to put in a good word for him and you did. You could’ve been negative like that fuck-face Lisa but you weren’t. You’ve always been supportive, Ink. You’ve never judged me and my slutty-ass ways. Not once.”

  “Isn’t that what friends are for? It’s not like you’re out there hookin’ or something, Aimes.” I laughed.

  “So, are you coming back to the bar?” I’d been thinking about that too.

  “I don’t think so. I think I’ll let Evan and Lisa have it. I’m sure she’ll be some kind of PR guru or become Evan’s manager and his career will skyrocket. Then I’ll come back to visit. In the meantime I’ll come and visit when I know for sure they won’t be around.”