Four

by Tia Fielding

  “Feels much more personal now, no matter how good a person you were before with these cases. I can understand that.” Padraig sighed too. “If he calls back, I’ll let you know. And if your guys hear anything….”

  “Will do the same. Wish there was more we could do right away, Doc. Good night.”

  “Night.” Padraig forced himself to put the phone down on the desk instead of tossing it across the room.

  There were many things he could ignore in life, but animal abuse wasn’t one of them. It made him feel horrible to just have to wait. The boy hadn’t sounded familiar. There was no number. There were no clues. He hoped the boy wouldn’t get into trouble, at least. It couldn’t have been easy to make the call.

  Padraig rubbed his face with one hand and decided he might as well go say good night to Francis and get to bed. Maybe Hestia would want to cuddle with him tonight instead of going to Kaos’s room.

  Chapter Eleven

  KAOS FELL asleep and dreamed of all of his friends dying around him, wasting away into nothing in hospital beds while people outside chanted that they deserved what they got.

  He woke up disoriented and confused. Then he remembered the glimpse he’d gotten into the life of Francis, Padraig, and Marcus. If nothing else had quite hammered home the fact that Padraig was two decades older than him, last night had finally managed to do it.

  Padraig had been living his most horrible years when Kaos had been a toddler. It felt so weird to think about it in those terms, but it was true.

  Kaos went through his morning routines, wondering what Francis and Padraig had in mind for the day. Hestia hadn’t slept with him, so Kaos assumed one of the others had wanted a snuggle.

  He felt more like wearing jeans and a T-shirt and definitely no makeup other than his nail polish today. It was oddly comforting in a way, familiar, and the slightly unsettled feeling in his chest after last night’s conversation appreciated the comfort.

  He made his way downstairs to find breakfast, and discovered Hestia with Padraig and Francis in the kitchen. It seemed like she was enjoying her postbreakfast bone, and the humans were in the middle of their meals.

  “Morning,” Kaos grunted, heading for the coffeepot.

  Hestia wagged her tail at him but didn’t stop gnawing on the treat.

  “Where did she sleep?” Kaos nodded toward her as he wandered over to the table with his mug.

  “In my room,” Padraig said, and something about his expression or tone of voice made Kaos’s brain perk up.

  When Padraig didn’t elaborate, Francis took a sip of his own coffee and glanced at Kaos, who’d sat down next to him like last night. “So, what are you up to today?”

  “I hadn’t decided yet, to be honest. How’s the weather?”

  “There’s a snowstorm coming late tonight. There’s pretty much all essentials here, but we might go get some produce from the Millers’.” Padraig sighed. “The forecast says we’re going to be having a lot of snow before Thanksgiving. Here’s hoping nobody leaves their pets out and needs my help much, or at least not quickly.”

  “Will you still go to the clinic on the usual days?” Francis asked, getting up. “French toast and scrambled eggs?” He looked expectantly at Kaos, who nodded stupidly.

  “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  “Depends on the snow, but probably not,” Padraig replied to Francis.

  Francis went on to prepare more food for him, which Kaos let him do, mostly because Francis seemed to enjoy the task and because Kaos was still not quite awake.

  He looked at Padraig, wondering what was on his mind as he looked out of the window into the snow. Kaos realized it was Sunday. “Will Millers’ be open today?”

  “Oh yeah. They live in the building, and with bad weather, you can go in even during the night and they’ll serve you just to keep the town going.”

  “That’s how they do it in the small towns, Kaos.” Francis winked over his shoulder.

  “Now, now, Fran. You love this town, especially if you can stay away from my sister,” Padraig teased.

  “He doesn’t get along with her?” Kaos asked, and there it went, a whole teasing conversation he followed like a ping-pong match between old friends. At one point a plate of breakfast was plopped in front of him, and he ate while Padraig and Francis bickered.

  It was the nicest morning he’d had in a long time.

  PADRAIG AND Francis went into town and took Hestia with them so she could get used to being in the car. Kaos went into the sunroom and sketched.

  He sank into a portrait of Hestia, then making versions of it in different tattoo styles, and only snapped out of it when a particularly vicious gust of wind made the wall rattle. He realized he was cold, too, and wondered if Padraig would make a fire in the fireplace.

  Kaos was going to get up and move to the warmer part of the house when Hestia bounced into the sunroom, full of energy.

  “Hey there, baby girl! Did you go to town?” he cooed, and she ran directly to him, letting him pet her. “Where’s Daddy?” he asked, then caught a chuckle from the doorway.

  Francis was standing there, having obviously opened the door for her. “Do you both call Paddy that?”

  Flushing deep red, Kaos shook his head. “You’re a meanie.”

  “No, I’m just not oblivious.” Francis grinned. “Come on. There’s lunch. It’s already past midday.”

  “What? Really?” Kaos looked at the sky through the windows but couldn’t really tell the time because of the snow now steadily falling in the whipping wind.

  “Yeah, we even had to go have coffee with the Millers, because they got so excited when they saw me. They adored Hestia too.”

  “They’re nice people. My friends Makai and Emil like them a lot.”

  “People often get them wrong. They think she’s sweet and he’s an old curmudgeon,” Francis mused as Kaos gathered his stuff and they exited the sunroom. “But it’s actually the other way around when you get to know them.”

  “I know you said you spent quite a bit of time here when Marcus was still around. Do you really like the town?”

  Francis shrugged. “I like the people. The town isn’t half bad. And if you have wheels, you can drive to a bigger city in no time.”

  “Shit,” Kaos said, remembering he had promised Christa that he’d go over. Francis raised a brow at him, but because Kaos could see Padraig putting away groceries in the kitchen, he asked, “Padraig? Do you think my car will make it to Mercer tomorrow?”

  Padraig glanced at him and frowned. “No snow chains, right? So probably not. I can take you, though.”

  “But it’s clinic day.”

  “Yes, but half an hour there and half back is nothing. I’d rather have you safe,” Padraig said, ducking his head a bit.

  Francis piped up. “For the record, I’m going to be here, sitting next to the fireplace and drinking tea all day. I saw the new selection of tea in the cupboard—very nice, Kaos.”

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “This one never thinks outside the box that much, always buys the same stuff.” And there they went, teasing each other, but now they’d pulled Kaos into the circle too.

  They worked around one another—and Hestia—and made sandwiches and cream of mushroom soup for lunch. Kaos felt like he belonged, and the thought warmed his heart and eliminated some of the maudlin thoughts from that morning. Maybe he wasn’t as old as them, but he’d lived, had experiences neither of these men had, and had his point of view, which was unique.

  Later, the wind started to rattle around some more, and snow fell so heavily that it really turned into a proper snowstorm. Kaos, who had never seen one, wanted to go outside for just a while.

  “You’re nuts,” Francis informed him.

  “I’ll come with you. Hestia can stay inside. We don’t want her to freeze out there. And only for a few minutes, okay?” Padraig looked at him seriously.

  Kaos nodded. “You’re lending me winter gear, and we’ll be right there.
It’s not like we’ll get lost in the backyard,” he reasoned.

  “Your funeral!” Francis called cheerily from the end of the couch closest to the fireplace. “Hestia, come here, girl. Look, do you like this ball, huh?”

  He distracted the puppy long enough for Kaos and Padraig to get dressed and step outside through the back door. Or they tried but had to force the door open because so much snow had already accumulated against it.

  “Holy shit,” Kaos breathed, slipping through the cracked-open door, which Padraig closed after him. It was like nothing he’d felt before. The force of the wind was one thing, but the way it battered him, whipping around him and sneaking past the scarf and hat was insane.

  Padraig stood nearby, watching him, but Kaos couldn’t tell his expression, not with the snow and the scarves and everything.

  When Kaos raised his face toward the wind, he got a literal eyeful of the flying snow and quickly closed his eyes. “Shit,” he hissed, turning away again. Any exposed skin felt like he was being pelted by shards of glass or something. He wondered if a sandstorm was similar, just warmer than this. Because of the snowstorm, it was cold as hell. The temperature itself hadn’t dropped that far, but the wind chill lowered it further. “How cold did you say it was?” he called over the wailing wind to Padraig, only five feet away.

  “Something like eight with the wind!” Padraig’s words were muffled by his scarf, and he pushed his hands deeper into his pockets.

  “Okay, I’m done. Let’s go back in!” When he got closer to Padraig, his eyes were twinkling with amusement. “Don’t you dare say I told you so!”

  “Who? Me?” Padraig turned back to the door and kicked away the snow around it. “We need to be able to close it properly or the utility room is going to be a mess.”

  Kaos helped, and a couple of minutes later, they slipped inside and pulled the door closed. It clicked shut, and most of the wind noise stayed outside too.

  “Oh wow,” Kaos managed to say as he unwrapped the scarf from around his neck and face. Every bit of skin exposed to the warm air felt like a whole new attack of pins and needles. He must’ve seemed stunned, because Padraig laughed at him with obvious delight.

  “City kid’s first snowstorm.” Padraig chuckled when he unwrapped his own scarf, and they hung their outerwear to dry in the utility room.

  “You’re a meanie, too, just like Francis,” Kaos announced.

  “What did Fran say?”

  Kaos opened his mouth, then realized he couldn’t really tell Padraig. He blushed and hoped his most likely already red cheeks hid most of it. When he looked at Padraig, he had a fond, knowing expression on his face. He didn’t push for an answer, and Kaos felt glad.

  “I can’t help it if I grew up in a city where it really doesn’t snow more than an inch or two a few days a year. I can’t remember many snowstorms. Then again, I guess I wouldn’t have paid attention to them—my grandma wouldn’t have let me out.”

  “She was protective?” Padraig asked as they walked to the kitchen to make tea without having to communicate the need to hold a warm mug between cold palms.

  “Oh yeah. Not, like, crazy protective, but we were always pretty poor, so it made no sense to get winter clothing when there wasn’t much winter to speak of. Plus I grew in weird spurts, of course, so that made buying clothes even more of a hassle.”

  Padraig nodded slowly. “I remember that. Growing up in spurts, I mean. Always had secondhand clothes or ones our mom made. Dad worked at the sawmill—it’s long closed by now—and Mom was a seamstress. It wasn’t big money, not with five kids.”

  “Francis, come make yourself a mug of tea,” Kaos called toward the couch.

  Each of them fixed their mugs to their preferences, and then reconvened by the fire. Kaos wanted to sit on the floor, but hot tea and a puppy didn’t seem like a good combination. Instead, he was going to take the armchair, but Francis made it there first and smirked evilly at him. Kaos stuck out his tongue when Padraig wasn’t looking, and went to sit on the couch. It wasn’t like he and Padraig never sat on the same piece of furniture at the same time anyway.

  “Did you crank up your thermostat?” Padraig asked him when they were all comfortable.

  “Yeah, but I’ll grab a comforter just in case. I didn’t want to make it an oven, so I only turned it up a bit.”

  “I think I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight,” Francis said thoughtfully. “The room’s a bit cold even with the heat turned up, and I might as well enjoy the embers.”

  “I really like that it’s an actual wood-burning fireplace and not one of those gas ones,” Kaos commented, and they started to talk about the pros and cons of different kinds of heating.

  He enjoyed the fact that the others didn’t think his questions were dumb just because he didn’t have the experience they did. In a conversation with Padraig and Francis, he really felt their equal most of the time. He wondered what Marcus had been like. Which immediately reminded him about the whole thing with Marcus’s apparent unfaithfulness.

  There wasn’t a tactful way to ask about it, and it really wasn’t any of his business either. Padraig would tell him in time, if he felt it was something Kaos should know, he was sure.

  THE NEXT morning, Kaos and Padraig bundled up in the Land Rover and managed to somehow make it from the house to the bigger road that was already plowed.

  “Well, that was interesting.” Kaos felt like he could breathe again. The car had been sliding in the snow—probably not nearly as much as it had felt to him, but still.

  “That wasn’t too bad. I’ve driven in much worse. Sometimes toward emergencies at farms and such. That’s why I have this car—it can get to places.”

  “It’s a good machine for sure.” Kaos petted the dash without realizing.

  Padraig snorted out a laugh. “Did you just pet my car?”

  “Having a puppy has changed me,” Kaos replied, grinning.

  The road to Mercer was clear, and with Francis’s amazing breakfast in his stomach and Padraig’s pleasant company on the way there, Kaos was in a great mood when he got to Pink Ink.

  “Call me when you’re ready to leave, and I’ll come get you. If I have a patient, you might have to wait a bit.”

  “Understandable. Thanks for the ride, Padraig.” Kaos grabbed his bag and got out of the car. Padraig maneuvered the vehicle back onto the road, and Kaos went inside the converted garage.

  “Morning!” Christa called from where she was looking through ink bottles, probably trying to come up with a color scheme, based on how she was comparing different shades to one another.

  “Morning. What’s up today?” He didn’t have his license yet, but he could do stuff around the studio. Christa had a full booking for the day, so all Kaos needed to know was whether there was anything specific to do or if he should just take care of the running stuff.

  “I’m going to do this new-school flower thing for one of my regulars, and after her, I’ll go make sure the kids have something to eat for lunch because their school’s heating got busted during the weekend.”

  “Snow day?”

  “Yeah. It should be fixed soon, but they’re home for today at least. So first Danielle, then lunch for kids, then one of my husband’s regulars, Bubba, is coming over for a consultation. Not sure what time, but I told him midday-ish would be good. Uh… I have another tattoo at two—that should take maybe four hours. I’m coloring in as much of a back piece as I can today before the kids get hangry.” She seemed to come to a decision about the colors and looked up at Kaos, smiling.

  “Sounds good. Have you prepped for… Danielle, was it?”

  “Yeah, I’m all set, just needed the colors.” She took the ink bottles to her station and peeked back into the main area. “Nice makeup, by the way. I wish I could do that sort of thing.”

  A bit stunned, Kaos nodded. “Uh… thanks. I practiced the other night. Did a bit of a lighter version for today. Appeases the girl side when it’s all sturdy, warm guy clothes
.”

  “You should get some girly stuff for the winter. A coat maybe? A beanie and mittens? Might work?”

  It struck him that she was completely serious. Helping him out like this, figuring out how to make his life better in such a casual way, as if it wasn’t a big deal at all.

  Swallowing down the sudden rush of emotions, he gave her a little smile. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He gestured toward the stairs. “I’m getting coffee and then starting with reorganizing the flash wall.”

  “Sure. Thanks, Kaos.”

  The flash wall had had a few pieces of Christa’s original art removed due to them being used. They’d been tattooed on clients who had paid extra for the art to remain exclusive, just for them. That meant there was now room on the wall, and Christa had told Kaos he could fix it and add his own pieces there if he didn’t mind her tattooing any of them onto potential clients who might want them before he got his license. It didn’t bother him at all for Christa to do the actual ink work—it would still be his art—so Kaos had come up with a handful of different pieces in a few styles and was going to put them up. On anything bigger, though, he wanted to tattoo his own stuff, just for the sake of his vision and artistic integrity.

  He got his coffee from upstairs, then came back to the counter, where he stood, looking at the flash wall, trying to visualize what he wanted it to look like with his art added to the mix.

  Soon, a middle-aged woman with very sensible-looking clothing and no visible tattoos came in, smiling brightly. “Morning!”

  “Good morning. Are you Danielle?” Kaos asked, because even though she didn’t look like she’d have any tattoos or was necessarily even into body art, he’d learned a long time ago that you couldn’t judge people with their clothes on. In fact, that was a common joke at his previous job.

  “Yeah. Is Christa—?”

  “I’m here, leave your jacket there and come in,” Christa called from her workspace, then peered out. “I’m making sure I have everything where it’s supposed to be. Want a coffee?”