Kelly pulled up at the end of the pier, flung open her door and ran along the puddled cement. The further out she went, the more the storm-whipped waves crashed against the pier’s pylons, adding a salty overlay to the inescapable deluge. A crack of lightning split the sky ahead of her and she saw a seated figure at the end of the pier hunched against the summer storm. ‘Finn!’ she screamed so hard her head pounded.
She ran on. Closer now.
‘Finn!’ She felt lightheaded. The running, the yelling, the terror; it threatened to knock her over.
‘Finn!’ One more time, but now it was a strangled cry, a desperate plea.
He turned, still hunched over, his face obscured by the hood of his jumper. When Kelly reached him, she collapsed onto his back and held him so tightly her arms ached. She sobbed uncontrollably. ‘Thank God, Finn. Thank God, you’re still here.’
Finn’s legs were hanging over the edge of the pier. He twisted his body to face her and opened his arms. She burrowed into his embrace, pressing her cheek hard against his chest.
He stroked her arm. ‘I’m sorry, Kel,’ he said.
She regained her breath, drew herself out of his embrace and sat back on her knees. ‘What happened?’
Finn hesitated. Looked down at the pier. Up into her eyes. ‘I got in.’
Kelly’s heart raged as fiercely as the sea beneath them. Waves of pride, anger, despair and joy crashed together, a violent collision that left her reeling. Fury overwhelmed her. ‘Then what the fuck are you doing here?’
Finn pulled his hood back. His face was a picture of torment and pain. His hair was plastered to his forehead and rain poured down his cheeks and off his chin in a steady stream. Kelly wiped the rain and tears from her own eyes and tucked her sodden hair behind her ears.
‘He sat here, Kel,’ Finn said. ‘Or maybe he stood. I don’t know.’
Kelly sighed and placed her hands on her knees. ‘Don’t do this to yourself, Finn.’
‘This is where he did it. This is where he cut his wrists open and slipped into the water while I slept. This is where he made the decision to leave me behind.’
‘He was sick, Finn. His mind wasn’t right.’ How she wished she could help him. How she wished her words would be enough.
‘You know the worst thing?’
Kelly blinked water out of her eyes but didn’t speak.
Finn choked on something between a bitter laugh and an anguished cry. ‘I understand. I understand why he did it. And sometimes I want to do it, too.’
Despite the rain, she saw the tears flow from his eyes. She placed her hand on the side of his cheek. ‘Never. You’ll never do that.’
He rested his elbows on his knees and brought his hands together to make a cradle for his face. He closed his eyes. ‘Why can’t I stop it, Kel? The thoughts, the guilt, the fear, the pressure. Why can’t I stop it?’
‘I wish I knew how to help you.’
‘Maybe he’s in me and I can’t escape. Maybe there’s no other way.’
‘There’s always another way, Finn. I’m your other way. And I’ll never leave you. We’re the warriors, remember?’
Finn laid his arms out, palms up. He rolled up his sleeves and stared at his wrists. ‘We try so hard to make something of our lives, but look how easy it is to give it all away.’ He snapped his palms away from his body, so his wrists were exposed. His veins tracked up his arms like highways of indecision.
Kelly had never seen him this bad. It filled her with the lead weight of terror and dread. She’d understood being accepted into acting school in Sydney would be stressful for him, but the paradox of Finn’s life was that whenever things went well, his mind ran wild, invariably self-sabotaging his peace and hopes of happiness. She wasn’t sure she could let him move to another city. Who would talk him off the edge of a pier in Sydney when the darkness came back? He needed her there always. Needed to know she was with him, supporting him, protecting him.
He needed to be reminded.
He needed to be marked.
***
Kelly was surprised to hear a bell ring when she opened the door – it was a sound more suited to an old-fashioned corner store than a tattoo parlour. The young guy behind the counter was equally incongruous. Sure, he had ink all up and down his arms, but he was also clean-shaven and wore a crew cut; Kelly had expected someone much more intimidating and far less handsome. It was only a small place, with one large reclining chair in the centre of the room and what looked like a massage table in the far corner.
The young guy held up his hand to stop them walking any further. ‘Hold it there,’ he said. ‘You’re puddling all over the floor.’
