Page 41 of Tragic Ink
Chapter 13
Islammed the cabinet doors,stomping around the kitchen as I eavesdropped on Rhys’ phone call with Sheriff Kasun. I didn’t even know what I was looking for, exactly; something to take the edge off, maybe. When I finally settled on a beer and a bag of chips and stomped out again, I found Rhys leaning against the doorframe, watching me. He offered a small smile as he tossed his phone on the narrow breakfastbar.
“What did that cabinet ever do to you?” hejoked.
I scowled and shoved past him, flopping onto his leathercouch.
Behind me, I heard the fridge open and close. A moment later, Rhys joined me on the couch with a drink of his own. It dawned on me then how rude I’d just been to help myself to his alcohol and not offer him one, too. I sighed, cracked my beer, and reminded myself I was a guest here. And Rhys was actually trying to help me. He didn’t deserve mytemper.
“Sorry,” I muttered, and since I didn’t say the word often, it grated on me. “I just want to strangle the sheriff for not taking thisseriously.”
Rhys took a long drink and nodded. “I can’t disagree about the strangling part. But they’re doing what they can on theinvestigation.”
Elsmed had warned us the police wouldn’t share any information on the case, but Rhys had tried anyway, hoping for a different answer. No suchluck.
“I heard the conversation just now,” Iadmitted.
“Then you heard Kasun explain they can’t comment on an ongoinginvestigation.”
I pinned him with a look. “Why do you think I’m irritated? Come to think of it, why aren’t youirritated?”
“Simple.” Rhys shrugged. “If Kasun isn’t willing to comment, it means you’re not the only suspect. It means they’re actually looking into this from all angles. Following all leads. It means they’re going to help us catch thisguy.”
“Or I am the suspect and he knows that puts you guys on opposite sides,” I pointedout.
“Kasun doesn’t know what I am to you,” Rhyssaid.
“Oh.” I sat back, unsure what to say. Did I know what Rhys was to me? Didhe?
We drank in silence for a moment. Our earlier meeting with Elsmed Fairchild played on a loop in my mind—especially his promise at the end to take care of Ada for me. If he managed to do that, I wouldn’t have to give any more magical tattoos. Maybe ever. Just the thought of it made my shoulders a little less heavy. That and knowing two gargoyles had arrived to sit outside and keep an eye out for glamouredfae.
“She would be proud of you, youknow.”
The words jarred me, yanking me out of my hopeful daydreams of a very boring life as a very normal tattoo artist. I blinked up and found Rhys watching me closely. His words sank in slowly, and my chest ached as I thought of her.Aelwyn.
“I don’t know. She was always pushing me to embrace the magic. To find a different side, to see it as a blessing instead of a curse.” I shook my head. “If she were here now, she’d probably just lecture me some more about having faith in the universe orsomething.”
“You don’t?” heprompted.
“What?”
“Havefaith?”
“I have faith that what you put out comes back. And that there are a lot of bad people in the world—and more of them seem to be drawn to my gift than anyone good.” I couldn’t help the bitterness that coated that lastword.
“You expect bad things to happen toyou.”
I shrugged. “Expect the worst, hope for thebest.”
Rhys looked away, his face falling and his expression clouding over into something unreadable. I swallowed hard, not sure why I was suddenly struck with the urge to comforthim.
“I hate that,” he said finally, his voice raw and coarse in thesilence.
“What—” I began, but he shocked me into silence by getting up and coming to sit beside me on the couch. He set his beer aside and folded his leg, sitting sideways so he could face me. His knee jutted gently against my thigh, and my leg tingled at the smallcontact.
“It’s my fault. For shutting you out and making it hard for you to trust people. I’m so sorry for that. I hope you can forgive me, Gwen. I hope... Aelwyn would want us to be there for eachother.”
My stomach tightened. “So all of this...” I waved my hand around at his living room. “It’s forher?”
