Page 9 of Senseless
Eying us carefully, Dad turned to Anurak. “Thank you, lieutenant. I’ll leave you to bring these numbers to our tactics teams. Can I have a word with my sons?”
“Of course, General.” The man swiftly excused himself from the table and Dad turned on us the moment the door closed. “What the hell is going on with you two?”
“Just the same old shit,” I grumbled. “Mari’s still not talking to us after the whole exiling-Shadow thing.”
“And you still haven’t done anything to fix it?” He glared at us. “What kind of husbands are you?”
“I’m sorry, what the fuck are we supposed to do?” I spread my hands out, my voice rising. “No one knows where Shadow went, so we can’t exactly drag him back here so everyone can kiss and make up.”
“You can be a man and quit with the fucking excuses.” Finn Daley was the only man in the world who could make me feel small, and I felt like I was under the stare of a giant right then. “You do whatever is in your power to make this right. Camp outside her door. Spend an entire week on your knees begging for forgiveness, I don’t care. Your woman is the center of your family and you have wronged her. You caused her this pain, so it’s on you to fix.”
“But—“
“Ah!” Dad cut Gunner off swiftly with a raised finger and a look that dared him to keep arguing. Smartly, Gunner shrank into his seat and kept his mouth shut. I knew he’d been happy to bond with my dad, but good father figures weren’t always warm and loving. Finn was giving us a much-deserved tongue lashing, and I hoped Gun understood that.
“I know you boys know you fucked up,” Dad said in a gentler tone. “You’ve given her space to be angry, and that’s good. But enough time has passed now that you need to assert yourselves as men,hermen. The longer you let her shut you out, the less respect for you she’ll have.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “And no woman wants to fuck, much less be tied down to, a guy she doesn’t respect.”
“What if…” Gunner hesitated, chewing his lip. “What if she doesn’t want us back?”
“She would’ve kicked your sorry asses out already if that was the case,” Dad replied. “I know how much this hurts, boys, I do. But you gotta fight for your marriage and not let all this bitterness drag out and fester. And when you overcome this, your relationships with herwillbe stronger.”
“You’ve been through stuff like this?” Gunner asked, wide-eyed.
“I’ve never forced out one of my wife’s men behind her back,” Dad laughed. “But have I gotten the silent treatment after being an idiot? Oh hell yeah.”
“And doing this…worked for you?”
“Every time,” Dad nodded. “For smaller things, Lis would come talk to me on her own when she was ready. But when Ireallyfucked up, it was on me tomakeher see how much I wanted to set things right. Otherwise, I knew I’d lose her.”
“I’m scared of pushing Mari away,” Gunner admitted, raking his hands back through his hair. “Like we’re already too far gone and there’s no coming back.” He looked to me for confirmation and I nodded, letting him know I had the exact same fear.
“You want to make that a self-fulfilling prophecy, just keep doing what you’re doing.” Dad brought his palms to the table as he stood up. “Your marriage is withering away. You can either keep neglecting it and allow it to die, or put some fucking effort in and bring it back to life.”
With that sage advice, he left us to make our decision.
Three
IVAN
“Remove the bandage in a few hours. Wash it thoroughly with soap and water, and moisturize it at least twice a day until it heals.” I gave my client’s skin another wipe before pressing the bandage to her fresh tattoo, holding it in place with one hand while I peeled strips of tape with the other. “It’s going to start itching after a few days and that’s normal, but avoid scratching it. The itch means it’s healing.” I finished taping the bandage in place and sat back to pull my gloves off. “If it becomes red or painful, beyond the usual soreness, see a medic, or an artist with a good reputation, if you can.”
“Got it! Thanks, Ivan.” My client hopped off the table, stretching her arms over her head when her feet hit the floor. “I left your payment with the bartender, like you said.”
“Great. Thank you.” I made a half-hearted attempt to smile, but the expression didn’t feel natural anymore. “Enjoy the rest of your stay.”
The woman went off to find her fiancé, who was most likely appraising some of the vehicles in the junkyard. Like most of my clients, they were just traveling through. Apparently this couple had heard my name from another tattoo client a few towns over. Good tattooists seemed to be a rare find out here, so they came to this service center specifically to seek me out.
That had been happening more often lately. And my one-week stay soon turned into three weeks. But it wasn’t just the tattoo work keeping me here.
I glanced at the clock above the bar as I cleaned up my supplies, anxiety gripping my chest at what was to come in the next half-hour.
Once my area was tidied, I parked at my usual spot at the bar and waited for Jen to finish with her current customers.
“Hey big guy, you want your payment?” she asked me.
“Yes, please.” I tried not to outwardly bristle at the nicknames she gave me.
“Always so polite,” Jen mused as she reached under the bar and set my whiskey in front of me. “Your mother must have taught you well. You want a glass?”
