by K. L. Kreig
Even though I don’t deserve it.
Chapter 42
I sit at my desk, blankly staring at my computer screen. The blinking cursor mocks me. I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s another long, interminable day without Luke. Without talking to him or touching him. Without explanations. My voice mails and texts have gone unanswered. With every long minute that’s passed my confusion and anger have grown to almost now explosive levels. I’ve cried, I’ve screamed, I’ve thrown things, I’ve stomped around my apartment like a bratty three-year-old. I’ve barely slept. I’ve barely eaten. I feel like a living, breathing zombie.
It doesn’t make me feel much better, but I know I’m not in this alone: he’s abandoned everyone else too. His new nephews. His brothers. His mother. Livia. The only person I know he’s been in touch with is Bigs, who called me yesterday to say he’s seen Luke and he’s alive. Yet no matter how much cajoling or crying I did, he wouldn’t tell me what was going on or where he was. I know he knows. His loyalty, while commendable, pisses me the fuck off right now.
I want answers. I deserve answers, but as much as I want to see Luke, I’m not at all sure I can stomach hearing them. At the moment, I’m so goddamn mad I don’t think I can look at him. More than anything, though, I’m hurt. I can’t even describe how much it hurts knowing he would just leave me and not look back. And I honestly have to wonder if I’ll be able to build a life with a man who just cuts and runs every time his demons rise up from the ashes. I’ve done nothing but think about that since Friday night when he walked out.
A soft knock pulls me out of my reverie. I look over to see Julie sticking her head in my barely opened door. It looks like it’s floating. It would be funny if anything struck me as such these days. “Addy, I hate to bother you, but there’s someone here to see you.”
“Who?” I ask, not wanting to talk to any salespeople or someone who’s looking for a job today.
“Me,” Luke’s dark rumble answers right before he pushes the door open the rest of the way.
“Luke,” I whisper. Never taking his eyes from mine, he walks in and shuts Julie out. He makes no move to come closer. Smart man.
I sit still, drinking in the sight of him. He looks like he’s been to hell and back. His eyes are bloodshot. His clothes are rumpled. He looks exhausted. I think he’s lost weight and it’s clear he hasn’t shaved since he left. For the hundredth time, I wonder what in the hell happened and what it has to do with my sister because she still claims to have no clue.
Two emotions hit me hard and fast: anger and relief. In a duel to the death, anger wins. I straighten my spine, sitting tall. My entire body shakes with my effort to hold back from slapping him. I wipe away the tears that are rolling down my cheek, pissed that they escaped.
“I’m busy.”
“Addy, please. I need to talk to you.”
Fuck his explanation. I can’t listen to it right now and if I do, it will be on my terms, not his.
“I can’t do this now, Luke,” I say, turning back to my computer, pretending to type some numbers into a spreadsheet. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, but I’m not about to let him know.
“Baby, I am so sorry. There’s no excuse for my actions, but please let me explain.”
I fly from my chair, my vision clouded scarlet. “Sorry? You’re sorry? Well, fuck your sorry!” I scream. “You just ran out the door with no explanation, no phone call, no text. Nothing. You abandoned me, Luke. I have no idea what the hell happened and I’ve been stumbling in the dark for five days wondering where you were. Five days! I didn’t know if you were dead. If you were drunk. If you were fucking other women. I didn’t know if you left me! I had to track down Ben to find out that you were even alive for fuck’s sake! You called him, and you didn’t call me. You cut me out completely, just like you did your family all those years ago.”
He flinches, my words cutting him deep. I can’t make myself care.
“You’re right, Addy. About everything. I handled this poorly, but I can explain. Please let me explain.”
“It’s too late. You should have done that before you ever hit the threshold. Now it’s too late.” My voice cracks and I can barely swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth.
He looks devastated. The water I see in his eyes absolutely guts me and I feel positively sick because I may have actually meant the words I just said. I don’t know if I can forgive him for doing this to me. To us.
“Please tell me I haven’t fucked us up permanently,” he chokes. He’s trying to hold it together as much as I am.
“I can’t,” I whisper hoarsely. “I’m staying with Kamryn for a while, so you can go back to the apartment.”
He nods and we stand there silently. I have nothing left to say, but I can’t move either. I have to force my feet to the floor, pretending they’re superglued because the urge to throw myself into his arms and forgive him is so overpowering. Every cell in my body is begging me to run to him.
I miss him.
I miss his kiss. I miss his touch. His laugh. His humor. I miss his arms holding me so I can sleep. I miss his heat. I miss his cooking.
I miss his everything.
His eyes fall to the floor. I let my tears flow freely, although I try to prevent myself from completely falling apart in front of him. I have far too much pride for that.
“The battle may be won, but the war rages on.”
“What?”
His hazels lift. “My tattoo.” I suck in a breath and my knees give out. Luckily for me, the chair is right there so I don’t end up on my ass. “You wondered what it said. That’s what it says. You’re my war, Addy. You’re the only thing worth fighting for. I’m not perfect. I fucked up. I know it, but I will never stop fighting for you. I love you, fireball, and I am so very sorry.”
Then he turns to leave and it takes a minute for his next words to register. By the time they do, he’s already gone.
“And war is my destiny until she is mine.”
I put my face in my hands and sob.
Chapter 43
Eric stares me down as I stride through the glass door, the tinkling of the bell announcing my arrival. Today he’s wearing a ratty Lions hat backwards, black ripped jeans, and a black Godsmack concert T-shirt.
“Wow, you’ve got balls of steel showing up here like this,” he spits venomously.
Guess that answers the question on whether he knows what happened between Addy and me.
“Thought we had an appointment.”
“I didn’t think you’d show.”
“Guess you were wrong.”
I stand my ground. I made this appointment two weeks ago and I am not fucking leaving Inked On until I have my new tattoo. The one I had him design with her in mind.
It’s been over a week since I’ve seen Addy at her studio and every minute has been insufferable. I miss her with a raw ache that deepens with every passing second. If not for Bigs, I’m not even sure I’d make it to work. At least when I’m there I throw myself into it head-on so I can forget how empty I feel. I packed a bag and moved back in with him for a while so she could have her place back. She was there long before I was. When I texted her about it I didn’t get a response so I don’t know if she’s living there or not. If she’s anything like me, she can’t.
I couldn’t stay there without her. Everywhere I looked memories were woven into the very fabric of that place. Every surface. Every wall. Even the air. I walked by her room and could smell her unique scent. I slept in her bed that first night before I moved out, just so I could feel close to her. It tore my guts out to see that stupid stuffed animal sitting on top of the comforter, knowing she didn’t take it with her. He looked lost and lonely and forgotten. A mirror of me.
I’ve called her daily, but she won’t answer. I text her, but she won’t respond. I had a package delivered to her this morning but haven’t heard a peep. I know gifts won’t fix things, but this one was special. It had meaning, a purpose, ju
st like her. I know she digs that stuff.
I’ve decided while I’m back in Detroit for the long weekend to just let her be. Give her some breathing room. I’m not done fighting. I’ll never be done fighting. Whether she takes me back or not, I at least need her to understand what happened and why I flipped out. Then maybe she can go through the process of forgiving me. I’m an insanely patient man when I want something bad enough.
Eric sighs in resignation. “I’m going to make this as painful as possible.”
I nod, following him. “Was kinda hoping you would.”
He leads me back to his private room, pulling the curtains shut. I take off my shirt and get comfortable on the table. Eric goes about getting the ink and his instruments of torture ready, eyeing me the whole time. He silently cleans the spot where my new tattoo will rest for all of eternity.
Pressing the transfer to my clean skin, he tests his tattoo machine, making sure the needle’s working right. Eric uses the good old-fashioned steel tube instead of the disposable ones so many artists use today. Says it makes a huge difference in his end product and he’s nothing if not proud of his art, as he should be. It’s fucking incredible. Snapping on his black latex gloves, he looks at me with an evil grin.
“Ready, fucker?”
“Did you sterilize your gun?”
“Nah. I’m rolling the dice with you today.” I’m not entirely sure he’s kidding. I nod and he leans over to start. The familiar hum of the machine soothes me and I suck in a breath at the first bite of the needle but then settle in for a long session. We’re silent for a good fifteen minutes before Eric speaks. I’ve already decided if he asks, I’ll tell him, even though it should be Addy I tell first.
“You gonna spill?”
“You should lift the gun first.” The last thing I want him to do is fuck up my ink when he goes into shock. Which he will.
His gaze turns to mine and I cock my brow. He straightens and cuts the power, taking away the pain. I want it back.
“It’s your sister.”
“What’s my sister?” He snarls.
“Sam.”
“Sam? What does Sam have to do with this?” Ah, so Addy didn’t tell him much beyond the fact that I hid for days like a pussy.
“She was the one at the house that day. With my dad.” His brows pinch in confusion and I add, “She’s the one he had a kid with. Your niece, Landyn, is my half sister.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not Eric.” I go on to tell him about the birthmark. I tell him how I wigged out when I saw Sam at Addy’s. I tell him how I stayed drunk for four days straight. I tell him how I’ve tried to apologize to Addy repeatedly and win her back. I tell him I am ruined without her.
He sits in utter disbelief. I can see he’s having just as hard a time wrapping his head around this shit as I did. Am, still.
“She’s stubborn.”
“As a fucking mule,” I retort. “But I love her despite it.”
A smirk flashes before it’s gone. “You’re good for her, Luke. I fought it because I didn’t want her with guys like us, but I know now I was wrong. I see how much you love her. She’ll come around.”
“I hope so.”
“You can’t keep this a secret anymore, LC.”
“I know. I’m telling my mom tonight.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Don’t envy you that conversation.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “Neither do I.”
Tonight I get to be the one to crush my mom yet again. I crushed her before with my actions. I’ll crush her now with my words. That thought’s been sitting hard and sick in the pit of my stomach for days. She just got home day before yesterday from Chicago after staying with Gray and Livia for a week to help with the babies and I didn’t want to talk to her then. Now that she’s here and I’m here there’s no more putting it off.
Eric gets back to work. This time, we stay silent, both lost in our own thoughts at how small this world really is.
Chapter 44
Walking through my apartment door has to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’ve been standing in the same spot for I don’t even know how long. Everywhere I look, I see Luke.
I see him in the kitchen dicing up vegetables or making coffee.
I see him on the couch, my head in his lap while he recounts why each stupid Fast and Furious movie is unique in its own way. He made me watch all seven of them.
I see him pushing me against the hallway wall before he sinks inside me because he doesn’t have the patience to make it to the bedroom.
His entire essence surrounds me here, and my eyes well.
God, I miss him.
Tomorrow’s the start of another weekend, which means another Sunday without him. I always loved Sundays even before Luke was in my life. I used to do nothing but sleep in and lie around all day, catching up on my stack of magazines or reading a steamy romance. Luke was more than happy to insert himself into my tradition, only we acted out the steam after he made me read it out loud first.
Now I hate Sundays. There’s nothing fucking sunny about it.
Kam begged me to stay at least until Monday, but I can’t impose on her anymore. Quite frankly, I’m tired of her asking me every five seconds if I’m okay. I’m tired of her telling me every hour to call him. I’m just tired, period.
After I’m changed into some pajama pants and a baggy tee, I pour myself a big glass of white wine, wincing when I see the Heinekens in the bottom of the fridge. I’ll have to throw those out tomorrow. I don’t even bother opening the freezer. Its contents will cause me to have a meltdown. I may have to call Kam to come over and help me purge.
Sitting on the couch, I turn on the TV, flipping until I find The Breakfast Club. I mute it. I can’t stomach noise right now for some reason. Then I turn it off because I can’t stomach even watching TV in here without him.
Lying down, I curl into a ball and pull the blanket from the back of the sofa over me. I can’t seem to get warm. I’ve been cold for two weeks straight.
Frozen. All of me.
My blood.
My body.
My heart.
I feel dead inside without him. I wonder if I’ll ever be me again. No. Because he’s part of you now.
Am I being too hard on him? Should I at least let him explain? Can I trust him not to run again? Can I trust him to trust me instead of running? I don’t know. I don’t really know anything anymore, I guess, other than I’m miserable without him, so maybe that’s my answer.
“And war is my destiny until she is mine.”
The whispered words he spoke have haunted me day and night. I run them over and over in my head. I dream them. I’ve written them countless times. He’s been true to his word. Relentless but not pestering. There’s a fine line there and he’s butting up against it yet hasn’t crossed it. Every time I see his name appear on my phone, I ache.
Restless, I sit up and look at the small robin’s egg-colored blue box I’m holding in my hand. It arrived at the studio this morning. The deliveryman left before I could reject it. He was probably given very strict instructions to get in and get out before the crazy woman threw a temper tantrum. That sounds like something Luke would do. A sad smile tries to curve my lips but fails.
I flick it open, fingering the delicate silver olive leaf pendant inside. There are tiny filigree branches with even tinier leaves. There are no diamonds, no gemstones glittering back at me. It’s simple, intricate, beautiful, and no doubt meaningful in some way. I remove the note that’s tucked inside. The one I’ve been too chicken to read. The one I know will cut me to ribbons.
Taking a fortifying drink, I unfold the small piece of paper and begin reading. And sobbing.
My beautiful fireball,
An olive branch is traditionally associated with a peace offering. A way to win favor, reconcile, overcome distrust. In the bible, it’s written that the dove Noah released brought back an olive branch to prove there was land, life, and all h
ope was not lost. It was a new beginning. But in ancient times, brides also often wore olive branches as a sign of their purity.
You’re pure, Addy. You’re pure of heart. It’s magnetic. It draws people to you, including me. Especially me. Your innate purity brings me peace. It quiets my demons. It brings me life, color, breath. Clarity. A new beginning.
I fucked up. I lost my way, but I want you to know I’m working on things. Me. I want to be what you need, because you’re the only thing that makes sense, Addy. With you, I can just be. You see the real, imperfect man and love him anyway.
You took a leap of faith on me the first time. Even though I don’t deserve it, I’m asking you to do it again. Without you, I’m drifting. I have no purpose. I’m lost, fireball. So damn lost. But I’m holding on and I’ll hold on until my very last breath because life doesn’t make sense anymore without you in it.
I’m a patient man when I need to be and so I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’m madly, deeply in love with you, Addy Monroe. Please come back to me. Come back to me, Addy. I am truly nothing without you.
“And war is my destiny until she is mine.”
All my love,
Luke
That night I sleep in Luke’s bed with his note in one hand, my stuffed bulldog, Gerard, cuddled to my chest with the other, and cry myself to sleep.
Chapter 45
I pussied out last night and didn’t talk to my mom. She’s been gone all morning having coffee with her friends, so by the time she finally walks through the door at shortly after one my stomach is in forty different types of knots. I have absolutely no fucking idea how I’m going to start this conversation, because I can’t just blurt out, “Hey, funny story. You’d never believe that Dad’s illegitimate daughter is also my woman’s niece. Weird coincidence, right?”