The Harder He Falls: 2 (So Inked) (36 page)

He sucked in a deep breath perfumed with the fragrance of a magnolia tree in the last stages of bloom and crossed the street. A few people glanced at him as he approached, but no one bothered to speak to him. He walked toward the front door, which was propped open with yet more people milling around.

“Excuse me,” he said to a cluster of middle-aged men standing in the yard. “Do you know where Kellie is?”

Two of the three glanced at each other. He had a sneaking suspicion they couldn’t understand a word he said. The third simply shook his head. “No Kellie.”

“She owns the house. Lives here.” He thumbed behind him at the peeling white paint.

“Ah.” He gestured at the house and said something that sounded like pineapple.

“She’s out back?”

The man nodded.

“Okay, thanks.” His gut churned. He shouldn’t be intruding on whatever special event was going on but he couldn’t stay away. He was a druggie and she was his fix of choice.

The house had changed in the handful of days since he’d last been there. Several pieces of furniture were gone—an armchair, a decorative wardrobe that had been painted and lacquered. Pale squares stood out on the walls where pictures or other things had hung.

A cluster of women sat on the couch, staring up at him in wary silence.

He waved at them and tried on a smile for good measure. “Uh, hi. I’m looking for Kellie. Is she out back?”

They could have been carved from rock for all they moved.

“Guess so. Enjoy your—tea.”

He glimpsed Grandma’s bedroom as he passed through the house. It had been stripped of all the furniture save for what looked like a broken arm chair and faux toilet seat with handlebars. What was going on here? Who were all these people? And where had Kellie’s things gone?

The patio area was set up as a buffet. The table he’d had dinner with Kellie at was piled with food in woven baskets and platters. There was nothing he recognized, but food was the furthest thing from his mind. He scanned the twenty or so people, and still no Kellie.

A petite woman with a plastic shade clipped to her glasses stalked up and jabbed a finger at him. “Who are you?”

“I’m Quin. I’m looking for Kellie. Do you know where she is?”

“Yeessss.” She rammed her finger against his sternum. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

“I want to talk to Kellie,” he got out without growling or slapping the woman’s hand away.

“I know who you are.”

He scowled. “Who am I?”

“You stay away from my daughter. She is not for you. She is going to marry a good Korean boy and put this nonsense out of her head.”

He must have stepped into
The Twilight Zone
. Was this really Kellie’s mother? Despite the pictures he’d seen in the house, he’d pictured her taller, maybe more graceful.

“She will marry someone like herself,” she continued, jabbing her nail harder against him with each vicious prod.

“Fine, if she wants to marry someone else, that’s her choice,” he growled. His patience was thin and his temper shot to hell. “I just want to talk to her.”

A lithe young man strutted up to stand just behind the vicious little woman’s shoulder and said something in Korean. Quin was really getting sick of not being able to understand what everyone was saying.

From inside the house, he heard the sweetest bellowing notes ever. “Mother!”

Lotus—This flower’s lifespan is the inspiration for its symbolism. The plant begins at the bottom of a pond and grows up through the mud to the surface where it blooms. It is a flower endowed with spiritual importance in both Buddhist and Hindu cultures. It is also a popular tattoo for people who have gone through an ordeal and are rising above it.

Kellie slammed the bags of groceries down on the counter. The antique wardrobe her grandmother had brought from Korea with her—gone. The portraits of Grandma and Grandpa—gone. The magnets on the refrigerator—gone.

No wonder Mother had been so eager for her to go to the nursing home alone this morning. Kellie had even stopped by the Asian grocery store to grab some things she knew her stepfather would like. And she came back to this. People she didn’t know in her home and everywhere she looked something was missing.

“Mother, what the fuck have you done?” She slammed open the door to the garage and her vision hazed red. The shelves that had been stacked to the ceiling with all of the precious family things too dangerous to keep in the house any longer were bare.

The cluster of women in the living room shrank back into the couch and clutched their teacups to their chests. Kellie did a double take as she recognized the pattern.

“Where did you get that?” she demanded. When none of them seemed able to piece together a coherent sentence, she snatched the cup from the nearest woman’s hands. “This was a present to me from my grandmother.”

The threat of death must have lent her a scary fucking shadow because the remaining women calmly offered her their cups. She put them on the matching tray and carried the whole set to her room. The bolt had been cut off and she could already see overturned boxes and a general mess. She stared at it for a minute, her body running alternately hot and cold.

She couldn’t do this. What she had with her mother was not anything in the realm of family. Kellie might have been birthed by her, but that was it. Carefully she set the tea set down on her bed. As she walked out into the hall and through the living room, she wiped her hands on her thighs. Her real family lay in a nursing home a few miles away and at So Inked.

“Mother?”

The patio was done up for a party, which to her mother it probably was. She’d never had the close relationship with Grandma that Kellie had. Maybe Mom had felt marginalized by her brother, even in death, so badly that to be free of everything that tethered her to him, even her parents, was a cause for celebration.

Her mother gripped her arm, digging her fingernails into her skin. “Cho Hee, you watch the way you speak to me.”

“What the fuck have you done?” Mother lifted her hand to slap Kellie but she caught her wrist and wrenched her arm out of her grasp. “I asked you a question. What have you done? Where are Grandma’s things?”

“I got rid of those moldy old boxes.” Mother balled her fists at her side.

She expected a fight and Kellie wanted one. Kellie had backed down at the hospital, she’d fallen in line with the family, but this was too far.

“You have no right to get rid of her things. She’s not even dead yet.”

“She is dead to the world. I’m taking what is my due.”

“Your due? Your due for what?”

A black shadow fell across them both. Kellie glanced up into a sharp blue gaze she knew well. The instantaneous urge to hug him, demand comfort and give him a black eye all at once was overwhelming. She couldn’t deal with him right now. Her mother was ripping her life apart and she didn’t know what to do.

“This is my house now. I don’t have to answer to you for anything. You should be thankful I let you stay here until you get married.”

Kellie sputtered. “I’m not getting married!”

“Yes you are!”

“This is America, you can’t tell me to get married, and you can’t give my shit away.”

“This is my house. Everything in it belongs to me. You will get married or you will not stay under my roof.” Mother crossed her arms over her chest.

Kellie felt as though she’d been knocked on her ass, looking for the rug that had just been pulled out from under her. “You can’t do that. I live here.”

“Mother willed everything to me.”

“I want to see it.”

“You can talk to my lawyer.”

She stared at her mother, feeling like the five-year-old she’d been who never understood why Mommy wouldn’t hold her. “I don’t believe this. I can’t be related to you. I don’t even know you. You’re completely dead to me.”

One moment her mother was standing in front of her, the next she was squawking with her arms pinned behind her back.

“I’ve seen about as much as I want to of you trying to hit your own fucking daughter,” Quin growled. “If you want to hit something, try a punching bag.” He turned her around and released her arms.

“I’m calling the police on you.” She waved her arm in Quin’s face.

“Fine.” He stepped between them, blocking Kellie’s view.

Behind her was a ledge she was close to falling off, and when she did, she would shatter into so many pieces she wouldn’t be able to put herself back together again. She’d always held on to some hope that her mother had cared for her in her own way, that she just hadn’t understood. She’d let herself be fooled and now she was paying the price. Her grandmother was gone, the things that held sentimental value were gone and she was going to lose the house she’d grown up in.

Kellie scrubbed the back of her hand across her cheeks. She needed out of here.

“Kellie, doll.” Hands cupped her face and wiped away tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed. “Let’s get your stuff together.”

She wanted to hold him so badly. Curl up in his bed and forget the rest of the world. He didn’t know yet this wasn’t his fault. When she’d had the chance to call him she hadn’t known what to say so she’d slept on it. She nodded and allowed him to push her into the house. Her mother’s voice turned into a monotone drone in the background. Kellie went into her room and stood amidst the mess.

“Shit. Come here.” He closed the door and wrapped his arms around her.

She ached to lean against someone stronger than herself, even if for a moment. His hands stroked her back and her head fit perfectly against his shoulder. She’d given him the keys to her heart without insurance. She loved him, and it was a damn inconvenient time to figure that out.

* * * * *

Kellie pulled her stuffed Cube up to the pump, shut the engine off and rested her forehead against the steering wheel.

She was homeless.

There was a big, gaping wound where her family had resided up until an hour ago. She hadn’t paused to think. She hadn’t been able to hear her thoughts above her mother’s screaming and threatening to call the cops. Quin had driven his truck up into the yard to load stuff faster. Even then, Kellie had left things at the house she didn’t expect to see again.

Tapping on her window startled her. Jerking her head up, she blinked at the man shape in her window.

Quin.

She blew out a breath and popped her seat belt. He opened her door and leaned in.

“Get out of my space,” she said without feeling.

“No. You haven’t said hardly anything. Talk to me.” His lips thinned. They stared at each other for several moments. The gas fumes and grease were stronger thanks to the baking sun. A blistering breeze gusted, rocking the car a little.

“You don’t have to talk to me. I screwed up bad and I acknowledge that, but I still care about you. It sucks. You want to do the right thing, support them and make them happy and when you fail the world comes to a stop. I’m not very good at being what you need. I screw up. You deserve better. I came to apologize, because I’m so fucking sorry. I never should have said anything. I’ll take your stuff wherever you want to go, just tell me where and I’ll leave you alone after that if it’s what you want.”

“Quin, it wasn’t your fault.”

“What?”

She leaned against the door. Dark circles and bags hung under his eyes. He looked as bad as she felt. “The ER doctor said someone else filed a complaint about me. Not you. He told me you came in to try to fix stuff.”

His jaw had come unhinged and his mouth hung open.

“I don’t know who to blame but it’s not you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you yesterday when I found out, I just didn’t know how or what to do. I’m a little overwhelmed right now.” She rubbed her temples. “Can we talk about this later, please? I just need a minute, and I can’t handle you right now.”

For a moment Quin didn’t look as if he was going to move. “Yeah. What kind of gas do you want?”

“I’ll get it in a minute.”

“Just tell me what kind of gas.”

“Whatever. Regular.”

He stepped back and she shut the door. She took a moment to compose herself and grabbed her cell phone from the cup holder. She wanted her best friend.

Mary answered after a few rings, “Hey,
chica
, how’s it going?”

“Shitty.” She tipped her head back and listened to the sounds of Quin loosening the gas cap. “Mom kicked me out. She’s already emptied the house of a bunch of stuff. It’s bad.”

Mary spat a line of X-rated Spanish into the phone. “What are you going to do? Do we need to get you a lawyer or something?”

In the heat of the moment Kellie had thought about it. “No. As much as I wish it weren’t true, she’s family, and we’ll work it out or we won’t, but I’m not going to get a lawyer involved.”

“Fuck family, she hasn’t been around.”

“Neither has yours.”

“That’s different!”

“I’m not doing it. That’s final. It’s not worth it to me.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m at a gas station with Quin.”

Silence met her on the other end.

Kellie sighed and rubbed her temple. “He showed up and was there when the whole thing went down. He helped load my stuff up and a bunch of it is in his truck. I haven’t really talked to him about what the doctor said yesterday.”

“And how do you feel about this?”

“Confused. He has a way of being around when I really need someone to lean on.” If she tilted her head just right, she could see Quin’s ass in the mirror.

“I like him,
mija
. He has been good to you except for that mess. You don’t have to decide anything today. Where are you going? Do you need to crash at my place?”

That was why she’d called, to beg for a corner to stash her stuff and a couch to sleep on, but when she should be saying yes, she said, “No. I need to work this out with Quin. I might later.”

“I want more details. You can’t hang up on me now.”

“I’ll call you later. I’m filling up my tank now. I guess we’ll head to his place and have a come-to-Jesus meeting.”

“Oh Lord. You have to call me.”

“I will, and thanks for covering me. I know stuff is tough with Sam right now. How’s Carly doing at the shop?”

She groaned. “We’ll talk later.”

“Fine. Later.”

They hung up and Kellie continued to watch Quin covertly. The gas clicked off and he waited a moment before lifting the nozzle out to replace the lid. He tipped his head to someone she couldn’t see and snagged the receipt from the pump. The breeze plastered his shirt to his chest and ruffled his hair. He approached her door and opened it again.

“Where to?”

“Your place.”

He jerked back and his eyes widened. “Really?”

She fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him down. Touching her lips to his was sweet. He accepted the gentle kiss and brushed his fingers against her cheeks. It felt right. It might not be the smartest choice, but she was making it. She turned her face away.

“I’m going to grab some food and meet you there, okay?”

“Yeah. See you there.”

The tires squealed as Quin slammed on his brakes and skidded into the driveway.

Kellie was coming home.

Not home as in her home, but to his house. He glanced at the back of the truck packed tight with boxes. It would be okay in this neighborhood for a few minutes to leave them there. Then again, was she coming to his place to stay, or simply to make a game plan?

He headed for the kitchen, wincing at the bags of fast food trash and the line of bottles on the counter. He’d been a sad drunk that first night, drowning his stupidity in beer after beer.

The cleaning supplies he’d stored in a cardboard box against the far wall were relocated to under the sink so he could fill it with bottles. His garbage was overflowing and disgusting. It was his luck trash pickup wasn’t for three more days.

“Honey, I’m home,” Kellie called out as the door banged open.

“In here,” he called while compressing the trash.

Kellie paused in the doorway, a duffle bag over her shoulder, purse on her elbow and food in hand. “Wow. Did you wait ’til I was gone and throw a party?”

“No.” Heat crawled up the back of his neck as he pulled the bag from the plastic barrel and tied it off.