“Anything else?” I asked.
“Glad you asked.” Pushing off his perch he crossed the room toward me, his hand dipped into the inside of his coat as he neared. “This is for you.”
Why did it feel like I was getting served?
“This” was a plain white envelope that had the words ‘Mr. Harper’written in familiar handwriting on the front. I felt my heart both soar and plummet simultaneously as I took in the ominous envelope.
I squinted up at him. “I thought you said she didn’t come to you.”
“She didn’t,” he said. “She came to this decision all on her own. I’m just the messenger.”
Messenger? Decision? Ripping open the envelope I flipped open the neatly folded paper and scanned the evenly printed words.
I read them again.
And one more time just to be sure of what the fuck I was reading.
Ablaze, I shot my eyes up at him in incredulity. “What the fuck is this?”
“I believe it’s a letter of resignation.” He looked at his watch in boredom. “Or so I was told.”
“I thought you said she?—”
He held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I only told you my own opinion. Everythingshehas to say is in that letter.”
I tore my eyes over the letter again.Letter of Resignation.
I’m not leaving.She had said.
I’ll always stay for you.She had promised.
Take it out on me.She had offered.
Fuck. I glared up at him, my next words coming out as a growl. “Anything else?”
“No, don’t think so.” His bottom lip poked out as he shook his head, seeming to search his brain and coming up with nothing. But at the last moment his chin tilted, and I noticed the corner of his mouth slip up. “Oh, actually. She also told me to tell you that she’s finally getting a tattoo. She’s at her appointment now, someplace called Tore Tattoo?”
For fuck’s sake.
Served indeed.
Chapter Forty-Two
AUGUSTUS
Three years prior:
Seaside, Rhode Island, huh?
I had to say, it was a lot nicer than the blazing heat I’d just come from down south. Distantly, I wondered if I should do the Mid-Atlantic thing for a while and give myself a break from the heat of the south. I could hear it now, the sounds of the ocean mixing in with the sounds of the bustling market street right outside of my fifth official tattoo shop.
Looking up at the brick building I took in the sign in the window.
Ink and Mar.
Something tugged in my chest then, but I didn’t know what it meant. I’d gotten used to the thread of heartbreak that ran throughout my life since my sister ran away. I’d also gotten used to this sting of helplessness that came with this venture of searching for her in this way. But rarely did I feel hope. Not this strong at least.
Something about Seaside made me want to hope.
