“I should be there,” I say and lean back against the rock, the balloon of excitement deflating in my chest.
“It’ll be just the two of us,” Rogue says.“I need to know where he stands on helping us with our problem and I don’t want to make it too formal.”
The excitement is back and if I wanted to, I could sprint all the way to my bike even though we’re at least a mile away from the big house where it’s parked.
So I don’t waste any more time asking if he’s sure.I just say my goodbyes and head to my bike.Not sprinting, that’d be weird, but definitely walking fast.
Excitement like this is something I only feel when Bella’s involved.And I could definitely get used to feeling it all the time.For the rest of my life.
26
Bella
I’ve almost dialed my brother’s number and then changed my mind so many times in the last week that it’s become like some sort of ritual.Before I do anything else, I’ll do that first.Look up his number in my phone, hover my finger over it, and have my mind flood with all the shit my family’s put me through, how they abandoned me, parked me out east and did their best to forget me.All that’s also interspersed with the love I still feel for them, the love I can’t do anything about because it comes with blood.That whirlwind of emotions and memories always ends with the brutal beating they gave Blade.That’s when I shut off my phone and toss it somewhere far away from me.
Until the ritual begins again.
I’m so sick of myself for doing it.But I can’t stop.And it’s never gonna stop, not until I give in and call Matteo.I know that about myself.It was the same with the drugs and every other thing I was ever obsessed with.
I’d try to stay away, try to deny myself the thing I wanted, then get stuck in this cycle of wanting to and not letting myself have it.Until I drove myself nuts and finally gave in.Each and every time.
I have a client coming today.It’s Karma, one of my first and most loyal clients.She’s the only one from back east who has made the trip out here to get ink from me so far, though a bunch have promised.
I already have everything set up and sterilized.I even took an Uber to get some better lights, because the work Karma likes to get done is never simple or quick.She’s also, hands down, my most pain-resistant client and I’ve legit done her whole back one time in an all-night session.I’m kind of hoping tonight will be one of those kinds of sessions.
She’s due any minute.I’ll be busy all night, most likely.So I won’t be able to keep messing with my phone and my brother’s phone number.But I’ll keep thinking about it.I know I will.And I want to give Karma the best tattoos of her life, not sub-par work because my mind’s looping around crazy town, trying to keep me away from doing something I’m gonna eventually do anyway.
Because I will eventually call my brother.I already know that.It’s just a question of when at this point.
So instead of going through the ritual of almost calling, I send him a text.Don’t think, just type.
I’m in LA.I want to see you.Call me tomorrow morning.~Bella
I do it fast, press send without thinking.Then I shove the phone into the bottom of one of the kitchen drawers, my hands shaking really badly and feeling like I might be sick.
But it’s done.Finally.And the relief I feel is the same as always when I finally give in to my compulsions.Overwhelmingly amazing.Like I’m walking on clouds.Like I am clouds, weightless and soft, perfect and free.
My hands are no longer shaking by the time I’m standing out in the street waiting for Karma.I came out here because I was afraid she might think she’s in the wrong place if she can’t see me waiting for her.She’s a real outlaw and the most badass biker chick I’ve ever met.And this is one of the fanciest and normalest neighborhoods in all of LA.
The look of fearful awe as she parks her bike next to the curb and takes off her helmet tells me I was right to wait for her street-side.
I lead her to the apartment over the garage, chatting away about this and that, mainly just happy that I have someone from my old life here, someone who knew me when I was drifting and alone, far away from home.
She had recently lost Reaper, the love of her life, and maybe I’m so chatty because I don’t know how to confront that.My nature is to just plow and burn right over any difficult feelings.Most people think that’s a lack of empathy and self-centeredness.But it’s self-preservation, because I get so lost in their sadness I can’t find a way out.
“I made some sketches based on what you told me you wanted,” I say, hoping she’ll like them.I put everything, all the feelings I can’t show or talk about into my art.Always have.
We sit on the sofa and I show her the lakeside cabin scene she wanted first, thinking that’s the safer of the two.She just stares at it for a few seconds, her long blonde hair falling over her face so I can’t read what she’s thinking.
I’m just about to suggest I can come up with something different if she doesn’t like it when she says, “This is even more beautiful than it was in real life.”
She takes the sketchbook to get a better look at the starry sky reflecting on the peaceful waters of a lake at sunset she asked for.I’m so glad she likes it, because I so like drawing stars.Maybe this time it’ll turn out exactly as perfect as the starry sky is in my head.
“I was thinking we’d put it under your left breast,” I say.“There’s still some space there, right?”
She runs her hand over the drawing, caressing it.“Everything is still exactly how you left it.I don’t let anyone else draw on me.”
That makes me smile widely and we work in some other details, like a late sunset that will go perfectly with the stars.
