Page 65 of The Beat of My Heart
I have to know, “I-is she okay, Loki?”
Clapping me on the back, he says, “She will be, Trevor. But you have some choices to make. As much as you need her in your life, she just might need you more.”
Fuck.
“You two knuckleheads figure your crap out?” the man from the tattoo shop asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “We’re all good,” I hope, anyway. I’ve never brawled like that in my life. Maybe I do need to reevaluate things. One thing I know for sure, now that I’m certain Loki has been keeping tabs on Angel, is that I will not be able to get her out of my head. I hate him a little for it.
“So, what’s it going to be today, guys?” Jeff, the tattoo artist, asks.
“Can you do something like this?” I ask him, sliding a sketch I’d drawn over the counter. It’s the same image that comes to me every night. My Angel. Her head is bowed so I can’t see her face, and her wings are frayed. I replace the bits of her halo that are left with the words, ‘My Grace Is Gone’ in delicate script. Her arms are wrapped around her middle with her gown pooling at her bare feet. In the hem of her dress, I’ve written ‘Where you end is where I begin.’
Looking over my shoulder, Loki raises his brow, “What’s this mean?”
“It’s a Dave Matthews song,” I tell him. “My Angel,My Grace Is Gone.”
Pulling at his hair, Loki pushes off the counter. “I can’t take this shit, man. She doesn’t have to be. You’re being a stubborn son of a bitch. If you would just trust me, you wouldn’t be living in this fucking self-imposed misery. It’s time to get your goddamned head out of your ass. I’m out, but mark my words, get your shit together or I’ll do it for you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I yell, but Loki is already out the door.
Trying to shake off his threat, I look back at my drawing. “So, can you do this?” I ask.
“You got it. Take off your shirt and have a seat. Get comfy, you will be here for a while,” he tells me.
Staring at the ceiling, I pray for every poke of the needle to take away some of the pain. Replace it, at the very least. I’ll take a needle branding my skin any day over the ache I’ve been living with for the last two years.
Four hours later, I leave with Angel permanently affixed to my heart, right where she was always meant to be. I’m heading to my car when my phone rings. Pulling it from my front pocket, I see it’s Dex. He has been in London all week for work, and I know he is calling to check on Lanie and the kids. I’d promised him I’d keep tabs on her and I have. To be honest, she’s freaking amazing. The kids love her, and she has been a blessing for Tate. Those two have a connection that he desperately needed after his mother left.
“Hey, Dex, congrats on the deal! You must be so relieved?” I say, genuinely proud of all he has accomplished.
“Yeah, I am. Thanks. Have you been by the house lately?” he asks, distracted.
Laughing, I tell him, “I was there yesterday. Lanie has everything covered. Why?”
“She is pissed at me about the cameras, I kind of messed up. I lost my shit when she had a guy over and let slip that I could see her rolling her eyes at me.”
I can’t help but laugh, I told him putting cameras in the house without telling her was an invasion of privacy and that it would piss her off, but obviously, he didn’t listen. “Yeah, I know. Jamie and I had a good laugh about you yesterday.”
“What the fuck! Are you friends with him too? Jesus, can’t anyone be on my side? Why does everyone have fucking eyes for my girl?” he growls into the phone.
I’m stunned into silence. Jamie is a nanny friend that Lanie made while picking Tate up from school, but it’s his declaration that has me stopping in my tracks. “Your girl?” I question, “What are you saying, Dex?”
“Jesus, I don’t know. I can’t get her out of my head. I’m fucked up,” he finally admits.
“You like her,” I state. “You wouldn’t be possessive like this if you didn’t. I’ve never seen you like this, Dex. I’m a little worried, dude. She is good with your kids; you guys need that stability right now. Are you sure this is something you want to pursue?”
I’m more than a little worried, but I don’t tell him that.
“Fuck, Trevor, I don’t know. My head is saying not to rock the boat; we need her, just like you said. A bigger part of me is out of control and has been since the first moment I saw her. At first, I thought it was just lust. I needed to get laid. I’m not so sure anymore. I want her in my bed, but I feel like I just might want her, all of her, and it scares me,” he says.
I’m quiet for a long while. I can’t help but think about Angel, knowing the advice I’m about to give will make me a complete hypocrite, and I’m suddenly thankful Loki got pissed and stormed off.
“Trevor? Are you still there?” Dex asks.
“Yeah, I’m here, just thinking,” I say, trying to calm my shaky voice. “I’m not going to tell you what to do. You know how I feel about love and shit,”at least how I used to think about love, my conscious screams, “but… I think you deserve to be happy, Dex. You always believed in love, even before you met that bitch, Anna. It’s what made you different—better. You’ve lost that part of you. It’s a part I always admired and if you find it, really find it, I think you should go for it. Maybe it won’t work out in the end, but don’t you think that maybe you deserve to try?”
Are you talking to Dexter or yourself, asshole? Are you man enough to take your own fucking advice?
