The Darkest Link (Second Circle Tattoos)

by Scarlett Cole

  He’d done a terrible job of looking after Harper, but there was no way he was going to make that mistake with Lia.

  “I mean,” Harper continued, “if you have nothing to say on the subject, I can fill the entire forty minutes. Well, probably thirty-five minutes now. So, let’s start with how she showed up on my doorstep the morning after the fire and devoured enough chocolate brownies to feed the entire fire department.”

  He didn’t want to hear this. “Your timing sucks. And no, I don’t want you to fill the entire forty minutes. How about you just admire the architecture of the upcoming tollbooth?” he said.

  “Or I could tell you that I’ve never seen Lia check her phone quite so often. But I guess that wouldn’t make any difference, either.”

  “Harper,” he warned. “We’ve talked, I’ve texted, but I’ve been busy.” Plus, he had his pride. He didn’t want her to see the tears he’d shed at the loss of everything he’d worked for, everything he owned. Call it male ego, but he wasn’t ready for that.

  “No you haven’t, you’ve been hiding.”

  “I have not been—”

  “Hiding! It takes one to know one, Reid. You think I don’t know what it’s like to leave people behind because you think you’re protecting them? Lie to yourself if you want, but don’t lie to me. Not now.”

  Now it was his sister’s turn to look out the window. Goddammit. “Shit, Harper. I’m sorry. You’re right, obviously, because you’ve been a fucking know-it-all since you were ten.”

  The corner of Harper’s mouth twitched a little, as if she were fighting a smile.

  “I’m not exactly hiding, but I’m trying to keep Lia away from me. If this is Winston, and he is out for revenge, I don’t want Lia involved.”

  Harper turned to face him. “I’ve done the whole keeping-secrets-to-protect-the-other-person thing. It rarely works out.”

  “There’ll be time once this is all over to sort this out. But for now, I just want to handle this on my own.”

  “You’re right, obviously, because you’ve been a martyr since you were ten.”

  In spite of the seriousness of the conversation, Reid laughed. “Touché.”

  “When we get back, can you go see her?”

  They said nothing more on the subject for the rest of the drive along the highway.

  He stared out of the window as they drove along the east side of Humboldt Park. “Hey, do you still run?” he asked, thinking of all the early mornings she’d leave the house in her sneakers.

  “Yeah,” Harper said with a grin. “It’s part of my training now.”

  “You’re certainly in better shape now than you were,” he acknowledged.

  “I fight now. Did I not tell you that?”

  “Define fight,” Reid said.

  “MMA.”

  “In a fucking cage?” Reid asked, incredulous. “You kidding me?”

  “Nope. Won my first, lost my second, have my third in December.”

  “That I have to see . . . I think. It might freak me out a little,” he said, amazed at the idea of his sister kicking the shit out of someone.

  “You can keep Trent company. He can barely stand to watch,” she said with a laugh. “He doesn’t know Drea caught him on video at my first fight. The poor guy winced every time I took a hit and banned me from fighting between now and the wedding so I don’t look like he beat me up in the photographs.”

  Reid had almost started to relax, but when they turned onto the tree-lined street of their family home his pulse began to race.

  Despite Harper’s protests, he pulled a couple of bills from his wallet and handed them to the driver as they pulled up to the house. Their parents were expecting Harper under the guise of a pre-wedding shopping trip for her and their mom. They most definitely weren’t expecting him.

  They retrieved their bags from the trunk of the cab and walked up the driveway. The old brick house still looked the same. The porch had a new coat of paint and the curtains hanging in the living room were a different color, but everything else was exactly as he remembered it. The wood front door swung open and his mother, who first saw Harper, began to squeal with excitement. Until she saw him. Her hand went to her mouth as she gasped out loud.

  “Reid,” was all she said before she ran to him. He caught her in his arms, embarrassed by the tears that threatened to spill. She hugged him close. She smelled of Shalimar, the perfume she’d used for as long as he could remember and that made him think of comfort. Somewhere between her tears, and the way she kept saying my boy over and over, he realized he was finally home.

  Until Jackson Kennedy walked out onto the porch. Reid kept his arm around his mom, but turned to fully face his father. Harper walked up the steps toward him and he held his arms open for an embrace, but she didn’t give him one.

  “Daddy,” she said carefully, “over the last month, I’ve gotten to know my brother again. But in doing so, I’ve learned about a side of you I didn’t know existed. We thought it was only fair that we come home together and give you the opportunity to speak your piece and make it right.”

  His mom looked at all three of them, surprise on her face. “What is it that I don’t know here?”

  “I think we should step inside,” Jackson said, fatigue saturating his words.

  “Am I welcome?” Reid asked, looking at his father.

  “Just come inside, and we’ll talk.”

  “What am I missing, Reid?” asked his mom, linking her arm through his.

  He thought for a moment before he answered. “It’s about why I left.”

  They followed Harper and Jackson up the steps and into the living room. They’d finally gotten around to replacing the old sofa, he noted, and a new flat-screen TV hung on the wall instead of the large one that used to stand on the old hutch.

  “What’s going on, Reid? Why are you home? Where have you been?” his mother asked, sitting down next to his father.

  Reid took one of the two armchairs. Harper took the other. “Let’s start at the beginning, Mom,” Reid said. “The first question is why I left. Want to answer that, Dad?”

  His father had aged over the last six years. Gray peppered the temples of his dark hair, and lines were etched around his eyes. He sat forward and hung his head, but didn’t answer.

  Reid let the silence hang. He had no intention of making this easy for his father. He hadn’t been there for Reid when he was in trouble, so Reid wasn’t going to soften the blows that were going to follow.

  “Tell me that Reid misunderstood you, Dad,” Harper implored him.

  His father shook his head over and over. “I knew this day would come,” he said.

  “Jackson,” his mom said. “Please. This is scaring me.”

  “I’m sorry, Louise,” his father said, reaching for her hand. “I told Reid to go.”

  * * *

  “Lia, I’m sorry.”

  Lia held the phone to her ear and wandered out onto the balcony. She felt as restless as a cat in a cage, and although she’d been hoping for the call, it wasn’t making her feel any better about the whole shitty situation.

  “Mom, sorry isn’t going to make it all go away. Not for us.”

  “I believe you. But I’m sorry that your father yelled at you the way he did. The party fizzled out after you left. Guests began making their excuses. I think everyone just felt too awkward to stay. Franklin smashed several of the floral arrangements after the last guest had gone then disappeared into his study.”

  Lia braced herself as fear and disgust dueled in her stomach. “You don’t have to live through this with him, Mom.”

  “He made me go with him to a luncheon in Coconut Grove. Even picked out my outfit so we matched,” she whispered, embarrassment lacing her words. “I had to take two pills just to get through it.”

  “Dad is going to suck you dry, and he’s attempting to do the same to me. This is just the beginning, you know.”

  “What do you mean, the beginning?”

 
Surely her mother wasn’t that naive. “Think of it this way, Mom. It’s nearly three years until the next gubernatorial election. That’s thirty-six months of Dad attempting to drag you around the state to try and woo voters. The pressure is just going to get greater and greater.”

  Lia was met with a wall of silence. She looked out over the ocean. She loved the view and loved the location of the condo. She loved it because Granny Emmeline had bought it for her and had even helped her with pieces to decorate it, but she wanted something smaller. The idea had been rattling around in her head for days—selling it or renting it out. In the meantime, she’d buy something with less square footage in the same building. And that gave her an idea.

  “Mom, I’m thinking of downsizing. Selling the condo and finding something smaller. Let me split the money with you.”

  “This conversation got us nowhere before, Lia. Your father was furious when you left. He threw my orchids to the ground and smashed the pots. It took me hours to clean up.”

  “But don’t you see? That’s my point. Dad is getting angrier and angrier when it comes to this. His patience is getting shorter. Aren’t you worried?”

  “Lia.” Her mother sighed. “Of course. But . . . I’m scared. I can’t even begin to think about how to leave him.”

  “I can help you, Mom. Let me. I’ll come get you today. You can move in here for now. I’ll take care of you.”

  “It’s all so overwhelming. The idea of leaving the house, even to travel such a short distance makes me feel ill . . . I can’t do this, Lia.”

  There was something terribly troubling about her tone. It was almost hopeless. “Mom, I—”

  “I have to go, Lia. I think I hear your father pulling onto the drive.”

  With one click, her mom was gone.

  Lia grabbed her things and headed out to Second Circle. Nearly three weeks off work had just about killed her, and she needed to get out of the condo before she went stir crazy. She walked to the studio. It was unlikely she was going to be able to do any big tattoos because the strength just wasn’t there in her hand to hold the skin taut for long periods of time. She’d started physical therapy with a sadist named Bruce, and knew she still had a long way to go. But she could draw up sketches for future work, help Pixie on the front desk, and hell, she could even answer the phone. Anything to avoid being alone.

  “Welcome back, stranger,” Cujo said, giving her a gentle hug as she walked through the door.

  “Yay, you’re back.” Pixie clapped.

  “Yes, ma’am, I am. Not sure how much use I’m actually going to be, but I really need to be here today.” Lia walked toward the office, said hello to Drea who was just leaving, and waved to Truly, who was about to pierce a belly button. She pushed the door open and found Trent sitting at his desk staring off into space. “Hey, stranger.”

  “Hey, good to have you back. Just don’t overdo it today. And if you need to leave early, just say so.”

  “What’s got you looking so glum?” she asked, putting her purse away in one of the cupboards.

  “It feels weird. Over the last year, I’ve traveled a whole bunch for the show. And every time I’ve left Harper behind, I’ve managed to deal with it because I knew she was safe here. But now she’s off in Chicago—with Reid, who, no offense, left her alone for six years for reasons I only kind of understand—and I’m worried about her. Like, what if he pulls the same shit again, Lia? You’re getting to know him. What are the chances that things will sour further between him and his father? He wouldn’t just bail and leave her in Chicago again, would he?”

  “Trent,” she started carefully. “Harper is a big girl. Stronger than ever now. Even if he did leave her, she’d be better than fine. What’s really going on?”

  Trent looked out the window. “I want to be the one who looks after her . . . guess I don’t like the idea of sharing those duties with her brother.” He looked back over to her. “What do you think will happen?”

  Lia and Reid had barely spoken over the last week. One time she’d video called him and he’d stood, looking like the walking dead, in the burned-out shell of the garage with lots of people milling around in the background, carrying out charred items. Another time she’d called him as he was on his way to the bank. Dark circles ringed his eyes and he’d yawned twice. The guy looked exhausted. She’d wanted to drive up to see him, even offering to attempt to cook him dinner, but he’d turned her down, politely saying she’d be a distraction and that there was no room for her at Jarod’s. In the past, she would have jumped in her car regardless, going to his house to demand some kind of explanation to help her understand why he was pushing her away. But she didn’t want to be that person anymore—the one always prepared for the breakup.

  They’d barely spoken about the trip. Reid had told her he was going, said it was time to take care of business. And that she understood. But she was in no place to predict how he would behave once he came face-to-face with his father. It stung a little that he hadn’t asked her to go with him for moral support. Yet she also understood that it was something Reid and Harper had to do alone.

  “I have no idea how things are going to go,” she said, taking a seat across from him. “Reid has said some pretty heavy stuff about his father, and I know he’s all out of energy because of everything with the garage. But I do know he loves his sister deeply. He isn’t going to do anything that will leave her exposed again, especially now that he suspects Winston is involved with all this.”

  Trent took off his baseball hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and placed it back on his head. He stood and stretched. “Your boyfriend had better take care of her, Lia, because I might just have to kick his ass if he doesn’t.”

  The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. She did one small finger tattoo and did some sketches for a client who wanted some work done in a few weeks. Hopefully she would be all better by then. She texted her mom to see how she was and didn’t get a reply. The lack of response was unusual for her mom, her phone being her only real contact with the outside world on a daily basis. It worried her to the point where she couldn’t shift the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach, and the idea of going home while not knowing where her mother was didn’t sit well. At the end of the shift, she called a cab and headed over to Star Island.

  Damn, her father’s car was in the driveway. She let herself into the house, calling her mother’s name as she walked from room to room. The first place she checked was the greenhouse. Lia looked at the empty table where her mother’s prized orchids had sat and shook her head.

  She walked through the kitchen next, half-expecting to see her mom puttering about there, but there was no sign of her. Lia took out her phone, dialed her mom’s number, and started to walk faster. She took the stairs two at a time, a sick feeling growing in her gut. Hearing ringing ahead of her, she ran down the hall toward her mom’s bedroom. She pushed open the door and found her mother tucked into bed. And her father sitting in the chair in the corner.

  “What the hell, Dad? What’s wrong with Mom?”

  “I just got home and found her like this. She’s breathing.”

  Lia ran over to the bed and put a finger to her mom’s wrist and found her pulse slow and steady.

  “Mom,” she said, her own heart racing. “Mom, wake up. You’re scaring me.”

  There was no response. Lia placed her hands on her mother’s shoulders and shook her. “MOM!” Nothing. Help. They needed help.

  “Dad. Call 911. Now,” she said, her voice trembling.

  “She’s alive, Lia. There is no need to panic,” he said. For all the concern in his voice, he could have been discussing the grocery list.

  Lia continued to attempt to get her mother’s attention, patting her on the cheek firmly and shaking her. She glanced over her shoulder and found her father still fixed in the chair, looking down at his fingernails. “DAD. Please. Move. Get your phone.”

  “This is nothing more than momentary silliness, Lia. It helps no one
if we overreact.”

  He still didn’t move. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that he was in shock, too, but his words were too calculated. With trembling hands, Lia reached for her purse, which she’d dropped on the way in, and grabbed her phone.

  “Don’t. Lia,” her father warned, his tone frigid.

  She stared at her father but continued to dial. “You’d better not be telling me to not call for an ambulance for Mom,” Lia said, her voice remarkably controlled in contrast to the rest of her.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s clear she took one or two pills too many. But she’s still breathing. For the sake of everybody involved, I think we should let her sleep it off.”

  Lia gave the operator the details of her mom’s condition and asked for an ambulance. After she hung up, she turned to her father.

  Disgust flooded her. The man in the chair, a stranger. He sat rigid, staring her down.

  “Call. Them. Back,” he snarled. “Cancel the ambulance. Tell them it was a fainting spell. That she’s fine.”

  “She could die, Dad. How can you not care about that? You might not love her, but she’s loved you all these years. Doesn’t that at least count for something?” she shouted, swiping at the single tear that had escaped and was making its way down her cheek.

  “If she loved me, she wouldn’t cause a scene like this.” He jabbed angrily toward the bed.

  The menace in his tone set her on edge. As much as she loved and wanted to protect her mom, the fear in her belly told her to get closer to the bedroom door.

  She stood, and slowly made her way away from him. “We don’t know what she’s taken. She probably at least needs her stomach pumped. You’re more terrified that the media will find out she overdosed—which we don’t know for sure is what happened—and that sickens me. Believe me when I say that if Mom dies, I will remember every single moment of this conversation. I’m going to remember you telling me not to call 911. I’m going to remember you sitting in that chair doing nothing.”

  * * *

  Sunday morning, Reid woke up feeling lighter than he had in years. His father had admitted to Harper what he’d set into play. It had been gut-wrenchingly awful to watch his dad, mom, and Harper fall apart at the seams.