“Well, Jed,” I say, “I guess we clean this place. But first I need to go see my father in the hospital. You’re going to have to be good. No chewing up all kinds of stuff while I’m gone.”
I scratch him behind the ears and then drive to the hospital.
My father is asleep when I get there.
“Daddy?”
His eyes flutter open. “Katelyn. I’m so glad you made it.”
“How are you feeling?”
“All right. Groggy. That stuff they gave me yesterday for the biopsy threw me for a loop.”
“I know. You scared us.”
“No reason to be scared. Not yet anyway.”
“So the results are expected back tomorrow?”
“Later today or tomorrow, yes.”
“I’ll sit here with you for a while. Go back to sleep. You need your rest.”
“No. I want to talk to you.” But he closes his eyes.
My father and I have never had a lot to say to each other. “We’ll talk later,” I say. “You sleep.”
He doesn’t fight me this time. I pull out my phone.
Now, to find Luke. Of course there are no less than a million Luke Johnsons in the LA area. I may be exaggerating, but only a little. How am I going to find him?
I’ve already texted him, telling him I’m here.
And as usual, no response.
He loves me. I have to believe he loves me. He promised to call as soon as he can.
Which means only one thing.
He’s not responding because he can’t.
Chills skitter up my spine.
What can I do? It’s not like I can scour every part of LA and find him. That would be impossible. I don’t have enough money to hire a private investigator.
But my mother and father do.
I can’t ask them—not when my father’s waiting for biopsy results.
I should be more worried about my dad than I am. I’m concerned, yes, but I can’t forget the fact that my mother told me cancer is unlikely—the reason I chose not to come in the first place.
When he didn’t wake up from the anesthesia yesterday, I was scared, but would I have run out here if Luke weren’t here?
Probably not. Probably not because the Wolfes are depending on me.
I’m totally letting them down.
I feel like crap about it, but I’m here now. I’ll miss group with Macy, a private session that I set up, more coffee with Aspen. My new job, which, even though I don’t know what I’m doing, proved to be pretty enjoyable the first day.
I look at my father, his eyes closed, his sandy brownish-gray hair slicked back from his forehead. He doesn’t look weak. He looks like the dad I remember, except he could use a shampoo.
Should he really be this tired after a liver biopsy? Surgery is surgery, so probably yes.
I get back to my phone. I search for Luke Johnson.
I don’t find the one I’m looking for.
But then…I get a text.
It’s from Luke.
It’s a photo. A photo of his shoulder.
A new tattoo.
It says Katelyn.
29
LUKE
Just a photo. A photo of my new tattoo. That’s all I send to Katelyn.
She knows I’m okay now. And she knows I still love her.
Funny. Either my brother has the gentlest tattoo hand in the world, or this tattoo was meant to be part of me.
I swear it didn’t hurt at all.
I remember wincing through all the sessions for my raven. I thought my freaking arm was going to fall off at one point.
This time, though? It felt like it was licked on by puppies.
That silly old stray, Jed, pops in my mind then. I should call Travis. Make sure he’s feeding Jed.
Damn. I’ve gone soft. Since when do I care about an old stray dog?
Since I got off the sauce. Since I started doing an honest day’s work. And since I found Katelyn.
I’m back at the bomb shelter, standing in front of my mirror. Sebastian did something else for me besides just giving me a new tattoo. He gave me a product that he carries in the store. Tattoo cover-up. Heavy makeup that will cover the raven on my left arm and shoulder.
I stand naked in front of my mirror and slather the thick substance over my arm. Oddly, it’s not as heavy as I expected. And damn…it does cover the tat.
“Will it sweat off in this heat?” I asked Bas yesterday.
“No, it shouldn’t. It’s totally waterproof too. This is top-of-the-line crap.”
It will be nice not to have to wear long sleeves all the time.
I feel like a surf. Man, it’s been a long time. I used to be great on the waves, until…
Until I got involved in the drug industry, and then my beach bum days were over.
Still, I lived on the beach. I still own that damned house.
Time to sell it, I guess.
It was bought with dirty money.
Part of my deal with the Feds was that I got to keep the house. Most of my drug money had to be handed over, but I still have my trust fund from the Ashtons.
Yep, I’m a freaking multimillionaire.
I don’t give a shit about any of it.
I tried with Jorge. Wasn’t able to fix that.
I’m not sure what else I can do.
There was one guy—a guy I put a hit on. I’d like to say he deserved it, but he didn’t. He didn’t deserve anything good, but he also didn’t deserve to die. All this time I’ve tried to tell myself that the world is better without all those scumbags. Maybe it is, but the truth remains.
No one deserves to die.
It took therapy and getting off alcohol for me to understand that.
The guy left alone a wife and a baby. I’m talking to an attorney this afternoon about setting them up with a house and income and a college fund for the kid.
That will erase a little of the red off my ledger.
The red I can never get back? All the narcotic deaths and meth ODs from drugs I trafficked.
The drugs I helped to smuggle across the border.
The women I hurt.
I’ll never be worthy of Katelyn. Never in a million years.
Once people realize I’m back in town, King will find out.
And I’ll be dead.
But I’ll die with Katelyn’s mark on my flesh.
I’ll die knowing I belong to someone—someone who loved me for me.
Rather, for the me I became. For the me I wish I could be forever.
Luke Johnson, no man and every man.
Except Luke Johnson doesn’t exist.
My phone dings with a text.
I love it. It’s beautiful. Please let me know where you are. I’m here in LA, as I’ve told you. My father woke up from the anesthesia and is fine. Biopsy results later.
She’s here.
Which means I can’t try to see her. To do so would put her in danger. To be anywhere near me in LA would put her in danger.
Why? Why did she come here?
Silly question, obviously. She came here for her father. She came here because she’s a dutiful daughter and a wonderful person. A person I can never deserve.
I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t let her consume my thoughts. I can’t give into the temptation to see her.
No. I just can’t. I can’t do anything that may put her in danger.
Except that I already know I will.