by Regina Cole
“I’m here.”
I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the thumping ache that had started there. Shame had ripped all my words away, so I didn’t say anything.
Fortunately, my mentor filled in the gaps for me yet again. “She’s at school right now, packing up. She’s going to stay with me. After the way you treated her, you’re not going to be welcome at my house until you get your shit straight. So I suggest that you get off your ass and go apologize.”
Holy hell, what she’d been through, and I’d had it all wrong. I nodded, trying to force out a reply. It stayed in my throat, lodged with what was left of my ruined pride.
“Go. Now.”
Karl cut the call, and I stared at the black screen.
I didn’t deserve to be forgiven, not now, not ever. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t apologize to her.
The door slammed shut behind me not ten seconds later.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Hailey
I stood on my tiptoes, reaching for the large red duffel I’d carried most of my clothes in when I’d moved into this room with Jackie in the fall. The bag was just out of reach. I fought the urge to cry as the strap dangled there, as if taunting me. “Fuck,” I cursed as tears fell again. It was so stupid to cry over a bag. I dashed the tears away, pretending nothing was wrong. But it was. Everything was.
I stalked across the room, skirting piles of clothes, bedding, and books, then grabbed my desk chair. I dragged it over to the closet, but the tears didn’t stop falling. Fortunately, Jackie had gone off to her friend’s house for the night. I didn’t know if she’d heard what had happened.
Stepping on the chair, I reached the bag easily and pulled it down, nearly avoiding getting clobbered by a stack of canvases I’d propped up there to get them out of the way. Stupid fucking art. I wouldn’t pick up a pen or a paintbrush again. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change my major.
As the thought washed over me, I slowly climbed down from the chair and sat, halfway in the small closet, half in my disastrous room. My major. School. Could I really keep attending classes after what had happened? Graduate? I glanced over at the window, the one where he’d taken pictures of me while I was sleeping. I’d never been bothered by a ground-floor room, but now? No way could I ever sleep here again.
Glancing around, I realized I didn’t want to be alone. I’d asked Karl to wait in the common room down the hall, so I could have some peace and quiet after the chaos of the police station, but now? My spine pricked with warning, almost like Dr. Fields was out there waiting for me. I stood and yanked the chair out of the way, intending to pull open the door and head straight for the comfort of Karl’s company.
But a knock on the door came before I could reach the knob. The sound wrenched a shriek from me, and I clapped a hand across my mouth to stifle it.
“Hailey? Hailey, it’s me.” Neill’s voice. The one I thought I’d never hear again after that awful confrontation. Had it been only this afternoon? I shook my head. Time had been so odd, stretched out and contorted over this hellish day. “Can I come in?”
I crossed my arms and stared at the door, chin in the air and jaw set. “No.”
“Hailey, God, I’m so sorry. I should have— Anyway, please let me in. I want to apologize.”
I didn’t move. “Tough shit. Go away.”
“Hailey . . . ” He sighed, and the sound nearly moved me through the door. It was full of sadness, regret, and pain, full of words that should have been said much, much earlier.
Stiffening my resolve, I turned and pressed my back to the door. “You said you never wanted to see me again. So, here you go. This is you not seeing me.”
“Hailey, I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.”
I didn’t waver, but my tears started up again. I fought the urge to sniff, knowing he’d hear it through the door. No more tears for him, at least not ones he’d know about.
“If you won’t let me in, I’ll apologize through the door.” He took a deep breath, and I imagined how he’d look right now. He’d be standing there, raking one hand through his shaggy, too-long hair, his ink standing out brightly against whatever solid-color tee he was probably wearing. Maybe he’d press one hand against the door, as if to connect with me through the wood.
“I’m sorry. I never should have overreacted and assumed you didn’t want me when you asked for space. I should never have assumed those drugs were yours. You told me about your adviser, and I didn’t really listen. So, I’m sorry that you were in danger, and I . . .” He stopped, his voice choked as if holding back tears. “I let you stay there because I’m an ass. I didn’t want to be hurt again, so I kept you at arm’s length. All this is my fault, Hailey, and I’m sorry.”
My hands fell by my sides, and I pressed both palms against the wood. My chin tilted skyward and my tears tracked down my throat. Silent sobs racked me, but I didn’t move.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I’ve been a total dick to you for a while now, but you never gave up on me. And now I guess it’s too late. But I want you to know, Hailey Elizabeth Jakes, that I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. And now that it’s too late, well, I couldn’t let you go through the rest of your life without knowing how I feel about you.”
He laughed, a bitter sound that cut my soul in pieces. “But it’s too little, too late, huh?”
A sliding sound then, as if he’d let his hand fall away from the door. “Take care of yourself, Hailey.” One step away, two. He was leaving me. Three steps, and then I flung it open and ran after him.
Pride be damned. He loved me, and I loved him, too.
I wasn’t done fighting after all.
Neill
The running footsteps behind me made me turn, and then Hailey was falling into my arms, sobbing my name and beating my chest with her fists.
I gathered her close, rubbing her back, taking all she had to give me. I didn’t deserve her, hadn’t thought I’d ever get to see her again. So if she wanted to beat the shit out of me? I’d take it and thank her for it.
“I love you,” I whispered against her head as she continued to pound at me. “I love you, Hailey. I’m sorry. I love you.”
At last she relaxed, falling into my arms, her sobs quieting as I held her. But I never, never stopped saying it. “I love you. I love you, Hailey. I love you.”
When she looked up at me, her gorgeous face streaked with tears, her hair all over the place, her skin pale and splotchy from crying, I knew I’d never seen anyone more beautiful in all my life.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered up at me, but I pressed a finger over her lips.
“You didn’t do anything to be sorry for. I’m the idiot here. I was just so afraid of losing you, I let my fear make me crazy.”
Hailey smiled, rubbing at her cheeks. “You were kind of an idiot.”
“I know. Think you can ever forgive me for it?” Her smile disappeared as quickly as it had come, and I worried I might have overstepped myself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No,” she said, threading her fingers through mine. “I can. I just . . . You really hurt me, Neill.”
“I know.” Shame settled even harder on my shoulders, but I didn’t allow myself the luxury of looking away from her. I’d take whatever she needed to dish out. “I did hurt you. I should have trusted you. I knew better, Hailey. I knew deep down that there was no way that stuff was yours.”
A door slammed somewhere down the hall, and Hailey glanced that way. “Come on. Let’s talk in my room.”
I let her lead me, still holding my hand. She was so soft, so warm and alive. There was hope. I’d made the worst decision of my life when I’d chosen not to trust her. But I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to her if she’d allow me. I loved her so much that I’d hang on forever.
In the privacy of her dorm room, Hailey turned to me. “You should have trusted me.”
“I know.” I took her other hand in mine. “You’re right.
”
“And when I told you I needed space, you shouldn’t have assumed I meant I needed to be completely separate from you.”
My nod was emphatic. “Totally right. I was wrong there, too. After Gretchen, my self-esteem went to shit. That’s not an excuse, that’s just why I was an idiot.”
“But I was wrong, too,” Hailey said, looking toward the floor. “When you offered to help, I shouldn’t have shut you down. I was afraid, too, you know. Since Mom and Dad split up, I’ve been wondering if I would ever be able to have a normal relationship. I mean”—she laughed in a self-deprecating way—“I haven’t exactly had the most stellar role models where that’s concerned.”
“Neither have I.” My finger lifted her chin, forcing her to look into my eyes. “But between the two of us, we’re smart. We can figure this out if you want to.”
She bit her lip, brow furrowing in worry. “Can you trust me? I mean it this time. You were hurt really badly, I know, but you have to swear to me that you’ll never take that out on me again.”
The promise was easy, because it came from my heart. “I swear.”
“Then I forgive you,” she whispered, reaching up to twine her arms around my neck. “I love you, Neill.”
“I love you, Hailey.”
I kissed her then, so softly, so gently. With everything I felt, everything I wanted to say, words didn’t exist to show her how much I was feeling for her. So I put it into my kiss. Salty from our tears, desperate from my grief, it was the most perfect kiss we’d ever had. Poignant, sad, but then joyous and passionate. Our mouths met and mated and tongues swirled. I lifted her high against me, holding her so close that our hearts beat against each other, a perfect echo.
With a sigh, I lowered her to the floor, smiling down at her. “Still want to stay at Karl’s house?”
She gave a small laugh and shook her head. “I’d rather stay with you.”
My heart sang as I kissed her lips once more. “I’m glad.”
I sat on her bed and watched as she packed up some clothes, listening as she told me about the stuff that I hadn’t heard on the news. College officials had cooperated with authorities and promised that she’d be “taken care of,” whatever that meant. Hailey stuffed a pair of shorts in the top of her bag. “I’m hoping that means I’ll pass my psych class without actually having to take the exam.”
I nodded, about to ask another question, when she bent over in front of the dresser. Her shirt rode up a little in the back, and something caught my eye. A completely different thought possessed my mind, and I had to ask. “Hailey? What’s on your hip?”
She shot upright as if she’d been shocked, and I had to laugh at the way the blush climbed from her neckline to sit high on her cheeks when she turned to face me.
“It was going to be a surprise,” she said, crossing the room. “But I guess I can show you.”
She turned, lifting the hem of her shirt. My heart stopped and then thudded in triple time. There on her back was the flower I’d given her—a magnolia blossom in full bloom, done in dramatic black and gray. It was obviously pretty fresh, only a week or so old.
“It’s my drawing, but it’s the flower you gave me.” Hailey looked over her shoulder at me. “Karl did it for me the day you were off.”
Stunned didn’t begin to cover what I was feeling. I just looked at the tattoo, then back up at her face. “I didn’t know.”
She turned and put her hands on my shoulders. “I got this because I loved what it meant to me. It’s hope. It’s a future when everything seemed like it was ending. It’s to remind me of what I’ve learned over these past couple months. It’s kind of my version of when God closes a door, you break through the damn window.”
I laughed aloud at that, and she continued.
“I loved it because you gave it to me, but it means much more than that. Now I know who I want to be when I grow up.” She bent down, her mouth close to mine. “And I hope that you’re there with me.”
“I’m there, Hailey. As long as you’ll let me be.”
And I kissed her then, hoping she’d let me be a part of her life for a long time to come.
If not forever.
Epilogue
Hailey
The gun buzzed in the small room, the sound vibrating through my hand. I re-inked the machine and bent to my client again.
“This is the white highlighting, so it’s going to hurt a little more, okay? But keep still for me.” Touching the needles to my client’s skin, I added the highlights to the small tattoo.
“Ouch! That really hurts!”
“Roger,” I said calmly, wiping away the excess ink and small traces of blood. “You’ve had what, forty tattoos? Fifty? More? Come on. Don’t be such a baby.”
“But it hurts,” he whined, twitching his foot. “Why do you think I haven’t done my feet? I know they fucking hurt!”
“Not much longer,” I soothed, patting his leg. “Come on. Man up for me and keep still, or this is going to look like shit.”
He grunted, staring longingly at the flesh-colored patch on his arm. “Of all the months for me to give up smoking.”
“You did that for Luce, and don’t you dare let this tiny cartoon make you fall off the wagon.” I added a touch more highlight to the eyes, wiped, then sat back to admire my work. “I think we’re done. Neill?”
At my call, my artist popped his head through the door. “All done?”
I nodded, wiping the whole tattoo down with cleansing solution. “Think so. Check it out for me, though.”
Neill bent down over the chair, examining Roger’s foot. I smiled down at the machine in my hand. My machine, my inks, my work. This was my twelfth tattoo on a real human and my first on a foot. But seeing my art on real skin? I didn’t think I’d ever get used to how cool that was.
“Great job, Hailey.” Neill smiled broadly. “That’s just about perfect. Right depth, good shading, line work is stellar.” He clapped Roger on the back. “I think you’ve got yourself a nice tattoo there.”
Roger sighed. “Yeah, looks good. But I wish I hadn’t let Luce pick it.”
“Why?” I laughed as I smeared the tattoo with a thin layer of ointment. “I think Goombas are cute. They’re my favorite Mario villains.”
Roger rubbed at his shaved head. “I think she’s trying to make a statement about my height.”
“That’s between you and her. I’m just your artist.” I winked as I wrapped the fresh ink. “Let me go over your aftercare instructions.”
Roger rolled his eyes. “I think I’ve got it at this point.”
“Let her, she needs the practice,” Neill said. “That’s an order.”
As I rattled off the speech I’d been practicing, a cellphone rang. I glanced over my shoulder, but Neill had already taken the call and moved out of the room. When I’d finished with Roger and he’d limped off to his own studio, I started cleaning up my supplies, storing them in the corner that Neill had given me for my stuff.
I hummed to myself as I moved around Neill’s space, cleaning and putting supplies away. I’d be starting the spring semester of my junior year soon, thanks to my job and the scholarship Leesville had given me as an apology for the traumatic events—their words—of last semester. Dr. Fields had been institutionalized, and if he ever got out, he’d be serving a prison sentence. Mrs. Grant had already been fired, and last I’d heard, she was serving some time of her own. I had moved in with Neill, was banking my earnings from the shop, and life couldn’t get much better.
“Hey, Hailey,” Neill said in the doorway, holding his cell to his chest. “Do you have a second?”
“Sure.” I moved closer, tossing my gloves in the trash. “What’s up?”
He handed me the phone, his eyes unreadable. “It’s for you.”
I tilted my head in question, but he didn’t answer, just held the phone out to me until I took it.
“Hello?”
“Hailey?”
“Oh my God,” I said as s
hock flooded me. “Mom? Is that you?”
“It’s me.” My mother’s voice, thinner than I remembered, but definitely her.
“Why are you calling Neill? How do you even know his number?”
“He found me. I said I couldn’t talk to you, but he insisted. He told me about what happened with that professor. I’m sorry, Hailey. When I found out what your father had been doing, I just lost it. I ran, and I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to have anything to do with him or anything else from home. And that included you.” Her voice faltered. “And that was so wrong of me. I just . . . I’m sorry.”
I had imagined what it’d be like if I ever found Mom. I’d pictured being overcome with joy, or anger, or maybe sadness. But now? There wasn’t much. Relief that the question was answered, maybe, but my feelings for her were different now.
I’d discovered that I didn’t need my parents anymore. When things had gotten tough for me, they’d had their own lives to deal with. And now? I had mine.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” I said simply. “Thanks for calling. I’m fine. I really am.”
“But Hailey,” Mom said, tears obvious in her voice, “I want to see you now. I mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how much I’d missed you until Neill contacted me. I want to know what you’ve been doing, how you are.”
I shook my head, a smile crossing my face. “I’m sorry, Mom, but you missed out on that privilege when you ran out on me. Dad deserved it, but I didn’t. I love you, but it’s going to be a long time before I can trust you again. I’ve got my own life to live now, and you do, too. So let’s take it slow, okay?”
Mom argued for a long time, but I held firm. When the conversation finally ended, I handed the cellphone back to Neill and looked up at him.
“I can’t just let her back in my life,” I said simply, shrugging. “It’s different now.”
“I never expected you to. But I knew you’d wonder about her till you heard something, so I tracked her down.”
I turned back to my inks and finished putting them away. After closing the cabinet door, I stood and stretched. Neill, never one to miss an opportunity, stepped close and wrapped his arms around my waist as I relaxed.