The Harder He Falls: 2 (So Inked)

by Bristol, Sidney

  “Do you mean to tell me you’re the one who told the ER doctor I was abusing my grandmother?”

  His gaze was steel. Not an emotion in sight. “Not in so many words, but yes.”

  “Why?” She recoiled, confused, hurt and rage close to choking her.

  He shrugged and said nothing. He always had something to say, some nonsense or story about his time in Iraq or at this fight or when he was in the gym.

  It didn’t make sense. Why would Quin say something like that? What had he said?

  They stared at each other for several moments. He didn’t look like anyone she knew and most certainly not the man she’d slept beside.

  “I want an answer, Quin. I think I deserve one.” She crossed her arms to mirror his pose.

  He shrugged and his brows rose. “Why did I say what I said?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because it was the truth.”

  Pain stabbed her chest and her lungs constricted. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. All she could do was stare at this person.

  Who was he? He wasn’t the man who’d made love to her, who’d cared and laughed with her. Had she ever known him? She’d fallen in love with who she wanted him to be, not who he was. It couldn’t be.

  “Was this your plan then? Screw me in as many ways as you could?” She couldn’t believe that, but she was grasping at straws.

  “I don’t really plan things out. It just happened this way.” He rubbed his face and broke eye contact, glancing over her shoulder. The muscles in his jaw jumped and he sucked in a breath. “Just do me a favor and don’t cry, okay?”

  “Why should I? You’re clearly not worth it. Excuse me.” There was something else going on with Quin. She didn’t know what it was, but if he wasn’t going to fight to be with her, she wasn’t going to either. She had a family to keep together.

  “Sure thing.” He stepped aside and opened the door. As she walked past, he imparted one last shot. “I put you in for a complimentary membership to the gym.”

  She didn’t make eye contact with anyone as she exited and climbed into her car. In fact, she was perfectly calm as she drove a block away, pulled into a parking lot and burst into tears.

  * * * * *

  “Aye, you look like hell, chica.”

  “I feel like shit.” Kellie sank onto the couch in the office, grateful for the utter stillness of the shop. All night her mother and stepfather had complained about one aspect of the house or her or Grandma. She couldn’t take it much longer.

  She needed time she didn’t have to grieve a relationship that had ended before it began and figure out what to do about Grandma. But she was so tired. The desire to fight had fled.

  Mary swiveled to face her, her dark gaze seeing more than just Kellie’s exterior.

  “How’s Sam?”

  Mary smoothed her garishly colored Dia de los Muertos print over her thighs and folded her hands. “He wants to quit working here.”

  “Seriously?” That she had not expected.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with him anymore. He’s always had good grades and the only reason he flunked economics is because the teacher is a punta and failed him for cheating. He doesn’t talk to me anymore.” Mary seemed to deflate, the always secure façade of strength and serenity crumbling to reveal the young woman struggling to hold it together.

  “What are you going to do?”

  She shrugged.

  “Okay, what should we do for the shop?”

  “Pandora’s already asked if Carly can work in the shop during the day.”

  Kellie rolled the idea around. It wasn’t bad, but the logistics were tough. “Can she do everything in a wheelchair?”

  “Now? No. In a few months? Maybe. It’s not the best business decision to hire her, but I want to.”

  Kellie nodded. So Inked had become the catalyst for change in Carly’s life, first as the place where she got her tattoo, then from being paralyzed. She’d come to the shop the day she was in the clear for the party, and as soon as she’d been released she came back to them. They’d pretty much be paying Carly to hang around while they did her job, but none of them would complain. At least not when Carly was there.

  “You’re going to have to handle it. I can’t do anything else right now. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m shocked you’re even here,” Mary said.

  “Yeah.” Kellie sighed and looked at the desk, even though she shouldn’t. The memory of Quin was everywhere.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Which part?”

  “Any of it. We don’t talk anymore. I miss it.”

  Pangs of sadness speared her chest. “I know. Shit has been crazy since that damn convention. I knew it was a bad idea to go, but Pandora really wanted to.”

  Mary shook her head. “She’s not the same person she used to be.”

  “No, and it’s fucking fantastic. If she didn’t get out and live a little I was going to torch her place. I mean, I don’t like all their mushy shit, but Brian’s a good guy.” Brian thought the world revolved around Pandora, and it was about time someone else realized she was a classy lady and not a punching bag. Kellie couldn’t be happier for them.

  “Would you care to explain the midnight texting?”

  Kellie rolled her eyes. “There was beer in my mini-fridge and it was either text you or drunk-call Quin. As my best friend, you have to put up with my shit.”

  Mary released her lip from between her teeth. “What exactly did he do?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged and shifted.

  “You texted me that you guys broke up.”

  “I guess.”

  “You guess you broke up? You don’t know?”

  Kellie took a deep breath. Even that hurt. “Yesterday when I got home and Mom was there, she told me someone at the hospital had told her the guy with me was the one who reported me for elder abuse. The problem is, I don’t understand why he would. It doesn’t make sense and when I asked him for an answer he just stared at me.”

  “Do you think that’s what happened?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense and it’s not like him, but he wouldn’t talk to me. Do I want to be in a relationship with someone who keeps things from me? He wouldn’t even argue with me about it. Just stared at me. I want to be with someone who fights to stay together. Not someone who will walk away.”

  “Wow, I’ve never heard you talk about relationships that way.”

  Kellie shrugged. “Maybe I’m just getting old.”

  “You are not old.”

  “No, but I feel like it. I’d like to know what he said that got me into this mess.”

  “Would you take him back?”

  Her heart sang Yes! but her head said No. “How could I be with someone who so clearly doesn’t stand by their family? He should have talked to me, yelled at me for shit, not tattle on someone else and then leave me out to dry. I’d never do that to someone.”

  “Don’t close that door yet. Maybe there’s something going on you don’t know about.”

  Kellie shook her head. “Lighting doesn’t strike twice. Pandora and Brian are in love, Quin and I are not.” She pushed to her feet and sighed. “I’m going to go up to the hospital or take a drive or something.”

  “I feel like I should do something for you. I haven’t been a very good friend lately.”

  “You have your own shit to worry about.” Kellie stood and stretched. She was wearing sweatpants, a testament to how crappy she was feeling. “I’ll check in with you later.”

  She detoured past her desk, gathered the sketching kit she’d come to retrieve and headed back outside, into the heat that felt like stepping into the arms of Hell. She certainly felt as though she was being tortured.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Phoenix—An enduring sign of rebirth and new beginnings, the phoenix is one of the most popular tattoos.

  Kellie sat in a copy of the same fish bowl room she’d been in before she was es
corted out of the hospital. She checked the time on her phone and clenched her teeth. Ten minutes late wasn’t a lot, but it felt like an eternity. Somewhere her mother and stepfather were sitting with Grandma, possibly making decisions about the future when they wouldn’t be the ones to have to execute those choices. She was trying very hard not to resent her mother for waltzing back into her life at the worst possible moment. What were the odds?

  The door popped open, banging off the interior wall. Briana Sanford stood framed in the opening, a startled expression on her face. She had the same clipboard and another selection of folders in one hand and a Big Gulp in the other.

  “Oops. Guess I don’t know my own strength.” Briana chuckled and waddled into the room. “How have you been?”

  Did she really want to know the answer to that question?

  “Fine.”

  “That’s good to hear.” She set her things down on the table and settled into the chair. “Now where did I put your file?” She hummed to herself as she shuffled the folders, flipped them open only to close them again. “Here it is.”

  Kellie uncurled the grasp she had on the armrests and forced herself to relax. She’d done nothing wrong.

  Briana spoke as she scanned the file, flipping through the surprising number of pages. “We’ve had a home inspection, consulted the doctors and other sources. Ultimately you have been found to not be at fault in the accident that put your grandmother in here. Honestly from the reports and meeting your grandmother myself, the claim was completely unfounded but we can’t ignore these things. Dementia patients can’t speak for themselves, you know?”

  “Does that mean I can see her?”

  “Yes, yes. Just a few things to sign and you’re good to go.”

  Kellie pushed forward in her seat and grabbed a discarded pen. “Okay, where do I sign?”

  “Anxious, aren’t you?”

  No shit, Sherlock.

  “A bit.”

  “I need you to sign and date here and here.” Kellie scrawled her real name. “And now you’re free to go.”

  “Great. Can you tell me now where her room is?”

  “Sure.” Briana jotted the pertinent information on a sticky note she produced from one of her pockets and handed it over.

  “Thanks.”

  Navigating the hospital was a breeze after all the time spent visiting Carly. If Kellie never saw the inside of one again, it would be too soon. She wove past slower-moving foot traffic and squeezed inside cramped elevators.

  How was Grandma doing? Did she miss her?

  It had been a long time since Grandma had been able to call her by her real name, but every now and then she got a bit of her old self back.

  The room Kellie had been directed to was even on one of the same floors Carly had been on, albeit briefly. As she neared the door, her pace slowed. She knew her mother and stepfather awaited her, she’d driven them to the hospital after all. But she really wanted this moment alone with Grandma. Was that being selfish?

  How badly had the stroke impacted her? Would she be the same? How much more care would she need? How would Kellie manage?

  She paused in the doorway, surprised by the number of people crowding into the space. Besides her mother and stepfather, Grandma Gang was also there and a few other of Grandma’s peers. Flowers and lanterns decorated the flat surfaces, and the TV hummed in the background. But ultimately her gaze was drawn to the small, frail body lying on the bed.

  Grandma was asleep, her head tilted back and softly snoring. The bruising on her head and face had turned purple, fading to yellow and green. Someone had brought her favorite afghan from the house and covered her with it, but her arms stuck out on either side of her body. Her wrists were bound to the rails with a length of padded white nylon.

  Was she paralyzed? Did she have full range of movement? Why had they restrained her? Was she a vegetable?

  “What took you so long, Cho Hee?” her mother spat.

  “Just some paperwork, Mom.” Kellie moved farther into the room, nodding to the other women.

  “Did you bring us drinks?”

  “Um, no, you didn’t ask me to.”

  Her stepfather stood and dug in his pocket. “I’ll go.”

  Good, because she had no intention of leaving until the hospital staff kicked her out. She approached the side of the bed, ignoring the chatter on the other side of the room. Grandma’s hair was sticking this way and that, like an infant’s. Kellie had had to cut most of her hair off six months ago when Grandma caught the ends on fire while she was making tea.

  She carefully took the nearest hand in hers and curled her fingers around her palm. It broke her heart to see the lifeless, vivacious woman reduced to a husk.

  “Do we know how badly the stroke impaired her?” she asked, afraid of the answer but needing to know.

  Grandma Gang got to her feet and hobbled to the other side of the bed. “It’s hard to say since her comprehension has decreased. She seems to have most of her movement, better than me. They said she might have some partial paralysis.”

  Kellie’s knees knocked together and she gripped the side of the bed. Paralysis?

  “She kept trying to pull her IV out so they restrained her arms.”

  The backs of her eyes pricked with unshed tears. How would she manage this?

  “Hello,” a tentative voice said from behind her.

  Kellie glanced over her shoulder at a stocky woman with skin the color of cocoa. She was tastefully dressed in a skirt suit with a large, cheerful flower perched in her hair.

  “Hi there,” she said again. “Are you the Nahm family?”

  “Yes,” Kellie and her mother said at once.

  “Oh good. I’m Latoya Goodson.” She extended a hand to Kellie, covering her free hand with both of hers. “I’m from the Westerfeld Nursing Home.”

  “I thought you were coming yesterday,” Mom grumbled and got to her feet. “My husband will be back in a minute.”

  “Oh no, they requested me to come by to speak to you yesterday, and scheduled me in for today. I brought some information with me to help make you feel better about your decision.” Latoya began rummaging in a satchel slung over her shoulder.

  “Nursing home?” Kellie repeated, looking from Latoya to her mother. Her voice rose with each word. “Mom, what is she talking about? We are not putting Grandma in a home!”

  Latoya looked at her with wide eyes. Her mother, on the other hand, pursed her lips and glared.

  “Cho Hee, really, you cannot expect me to care for Mother in her current state.”

  “You? Care for her?” Red hazed Kellie’s vision. “You aren’t the one who bathes her, changes her clothes when she shits on herself and makes sure she actually swallows her medicine instead of hiding it under her tongue. You fucking abandoned us.”

  The walls, flowers and windows became incredibly interesting for everyone else trapped in the room. Latoya edged away, as if she were afraid she would be caught in the emotional shrapnel flying about.

  “You take that back. I am your mother and you will respect me.”

  “I’ll respect you when you earn it.”

  “Why don’t I come back at another time?” Latoya asked, slowly backing away. “It appears you need to work a few things out first.”

  Mom whirled on her. “Don’t leave. You have to take her with you.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t do that today. Today is just paperwork.”

  “We are not putting her in a home,” Kellie repeated.

  “Yes, we are.” Her mother wheeled on her, jabbing a finger in her direction. “I am her daughter. I decide where she goes, and you are not taking care of her anymore. She needs professional care.”

  Kellie threw her arms up. “She’s your mother! We’re family. We take care of each other.”

  “She’s not there to take care of,” Mom countered. “Cho Hee, it is not your choice. It is mine. If you cannot respect my wishes, then you should leave.”

  “Me? Are y
ou failing to realize that whatever choices you make, I’m the one that’s going to have to live with them? Who is going to visit her when you go back to Korea? Not you, me. She’s all that I have, because you left. You didn’t want us, so why should you care now?”

  Her mother closed the distance between them, hauled her hand back and slapped Kellie across the face.

  The room was silent, save for the rhythmic whirring and beeps from the machinery. Even from beyond the room, movement seemed to have stilled, holding its breath for what came next. Kellie just stared at her mother. She was empty inside.

  “No daughter of mine speaks to me that way. You will wait in the car.”

  Wait. In the car? So she could drive them back to the house Kellie had shared with Grandma? Where they would then pick her life to pieces? Rage bubbled up her chest. All the hurt from never being enough for her mother burst. She felt all right. She was done with this woman who pretended to be family.

  “Yeah? Well you can get your own damn ride home.”

  * * * * *

  Quin shifted his weight from foot to foot and stared at the plastic bags sitting in the backseat of his truck. He hadn’t slept since Tuesday. Three days. He hadn’t shaved, had started to shower and forgotten what he was doing.

  “What are you doing?” Penny’s voice jolted him out of his daze. Quin turned toward the house and watched Penny stride across the lawn, a dishtowel in hand. She grasped the corner of the truck door and looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”

  He pointed at the bags. “I couldn’t decide what Josie would like.”

  Penny did a double take, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping. “You bought all this?” She reached past him and pulled out a doll decked out in camo with Princess Boot Camp in glittery letters across the box. Another package held a gun that shot foam projectiles.

  “I always give you money to buy her what she likes. I wanted to get her something, but I couldn’t figure out what she wanted.”

  Penny put the items back in the bags and leaned against the door, peering up at him. “Quin, what happened? What did you do?”