Charade

              “Thank you. So much for helping me do this,” she whispers in my ear.

              “Absolutely. I’m glad I could.”

              I pull away and see that Tammy isn’t in the room. I’m wiping tears and Bev’s wiping tears.

              “How much do I owe her?” she asks and I shake my head.

              “Don’t worry about it—”

              “No—”

              It’s the least I can do. For her. For Colt. “Please. Don’t worry about it.”

              Bev squeezes my hand. “I’m tired. I need to rest.” Her eyes are already fluttering closed.

              “Okay. We’ll tell Maggie how to care for it. She’ll have to come in and wrap it,” I tell her, not sure she even heard me. When I’m a couple steps from the bed, her voice stops me.

              “I’m glad he has you.”

              I leave before I break down in front of her. He does have me. I only wish I knew if he wanted me or not.

              Tammy’s waiting for me when I get to the living room. “How much do I owe you?”

              A tattooed hand wipes a tear away on her own face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

***

              I can’t sleep. Andy’s snoring in the bed next to mine. The room is dark, my cell phone gripped tightly in my hand. I’ve called Colt a million times today and no answer. We left each other earlier. I called before and after the tattoo. Nothing.

I would try Adrian, but I don’t have his number. Would go over there, but don’t know if that’s too, “stalker-girlfriend.” He doesn’t have to call me. There’s no rule, but he usually does or we’re together.

              I roll over in the bed, knowing sleep won’t come. Knowing if I try dreams of Mom dying, of being in the dark or of Bev’s sick face will haunt me.

              So I lay here and let my thoughts haunt me instead.

              Rolling over, I pull the picture from under the mattress holding it in the opposite hand as my phone. Willing one to ring and needing the other close.

***

              I’m exhausted the next day. I tossed and turned all night. Every time my eyes closed the dreams would come making them jerk open again.

              I try Colt five more times. No answer.

              Fear seeps its way into me. No, it’s been there since last night, but now it’s multiplying.

              I take a quick shower and dress. Go to class though I don’t feel like it. Keep trying Colt’s phone and don’t get an answer.

It’s a long day at school and it’s late afternoon by the time I’m done.  I need to check on Bev.

              I need to find Colt.

              I drive by the house. Adrian answers the door and says he hasn’t seen him since yesterday. I check his room to make sure. My heart is going crazy now, begging me to let the panic take over.

              Bones in the woods.

              She’s gone.

              I’ll help you find your mama.

              I start to feel dizzy. What if something happened to him? What if he’s hurt or alone like Mom was?

              “Whoa. You okay?” Adrian grabs my arm, but I jerk away. I can’t have hands on me right now.

              “I have to go. Call me if you find him.” I rattle my number off to him.

              I concentrate on my breathing as I drive to Bev’s. Get it together, get it together, get it together. I can’t scare her. Maybe he went to her house. Maybe he’s mad at me. There are a million possibilities and the last thing I need to do is scare her.

              I knock on the door and Maggie answers again. “Is Colt here?” I ask.

              “No. I haven’t seen him since yesterday before you came over.”

              I hold my breath so she can’t tell I’m breathing so hard. He’s fine.

              Bones in the woods.

              “Can I check on Bev?” I fight my voice to keep it steady.

              “Sure. She’s in her room resting.”

              Maggie lets me in and I go straight for Bev’s room. I don’t pause before slipping in the open room. It will give me more time to freak out.

              “Hi.” Don’t scare her. “I just wanted to check on your tattoo.”

              She holds out her wrist proudly. “It looks amazing.”

              I want to touch it, but know it will hurt. “Are you putting the cream on?”

              “Maggie has been.”

              I’m holding her wrist and looking at the tattoo when I hear a noise behind me. I turn, relief flooding the length of my body.

              Colt.

~CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN~

Colt

              “What the fuck is that?” It’s a stupid question, but it’s what comes out of my mouth. It’s obvious it’s a fucking tattoo, but what I don’t understand is why it’s on Mom’s wrist and why Cheye

              Here.

              With my mom.

              Without me.

              “Colton! Watch your language!” Mom sounds more pissed than I’ve heard her in a long time. I like it because it almost sounds normal. Like she’s okay, but one look at her reminds me she’s not.

              My eyes find her wrist again and I take a few steps forward before I freeze. My name on her wrist. She put my name in her skin.

              Because she’s dying. Because she’s dying and she wanted to take me with her. And I wouldn’t do it for her. Wouldn’t help her. I spent the night in fucking jail while Cheye

              “Surprise!” Chey tries to sound happy. I’m jealous of her for that. For having it in her to pretend things are okay unlike me who just gets pissed. For doing something for Mom that I should have done, but didn’t. And when she wanted it, I wouldn’t have been able to do it for her anyway.

              “What are you doing here?” I throw at Cheye

              “I would think that’s pretty obvious,” Chey says. I can tell she wants to say a whole lot more than that, but she’s holding off. For Mom.

              “If you’re going to act like that, Colton, you can turn around and walk right back out of here. This isn’t Cheye

              Mom’s words are like a slap because I want Chey to be my business and Mom always has been.

              I step up to them and Chey walks away from the bed. I grab Mom’s wrist and look at the swirl of letters.

              Colton.

              It’s simple. Plain black and not very big. It rests on her pulse point. Christ, it had to hurt for her to get a tattoo there.

              But she did it. For me. She went out there were she could have gotten sick or anything could have happened. “This was stupid, Mom. Where did you go?”

              “Nowhere,” Chey answers for her. “I wouldn’t do that. I brought someone here.”

              I can’t make myself look at Cheye

              I shouldn’t be pissed at her for that.

              “You shouldn’t have done this,” I tell Mom. “I…” don’t want her to die. This somehow means she’s really going to fucking die.

              “I needed to, Colt. I think it’s beautiful. I wanted to do more, but I decided simple was better.”

              I actually want to fucking cry hearing her speak. She never calls me Colt. Never. But she is now. And she needed my name in her skin.

              “Well, it’s my name. It has to look badass.” The words don’t feel nearly as real as I make them sound.