“You okay, mate? Do you need a place to stay tonight?”
Unsure how I’d got here, I sat on the ground, my head in my hands, tears streaming down my face.
When had that happened?
I shook my head. “I was just on my way home.”
“Heavy night, then?”
“Something like that.” I scrambled to my feet and wiped my hands down my trousers.
I looked at the guy who’d asked, his I.D. badge hanging from a lanyard around his neck. They were often about. Volunteers whooffered shelter and food to the homeless. This one wore a white collar. A priest maybe?
Did I really look that bad?
I took in my dishevelled appearance: threadbare coat, jeans that had seen better days, and unlaced boots. No wonder he’d asked me.
I scratched the scruff on my face and ran my hands through my hair.
Fuck, I was a mess. How had I let things get so bad?
“As long as you’re okay. You look upset. Anything I can help with?”
These guys deserved medals for what they did, but I didn’t need his help. Only I could stop the descent into the abyss.
The abyss full of alcohol and cigarettes. The one that kept me down.
“You know what? I think I’m going to be fine.”
I couldn’t explain the change of heart. Maybe Seth’s words had had an effect.
For now, I’d go home, sleep it off, and maybe tomorrow would be a better day.
Chapter 5
Harvey
“What’ll it be today, H?” The buzz of tattoo guns filled the room, a sound I associated with comfort. I could quiet my head and drive away the demons there.
“I’m going for something simple today. Just a few words.”
“No problem. Any particular colour?” Rafi wiped the patch of skin on my forearm. “You won’t have much room left at the rate you’re going.”
I shrugged. “I’ll always find somewhere, and this one won’t take up too much space.”
“Are you sure that’s where you want it? There’s room on your shoulder if you’d like it there.”
I knew that, but I wanted these words written on my forearm so I could see them easily.
“I want to see them. Every day.”
“You’re the boss. How about a deep red? Or dark blue? What did you have in mind?”
I’d contemplated long and hard and decided on a deep blue. Red evoked images of blood, and while I didn’t mind the sight, I didn’t want to ruin the words with the evidence of my shame.
“A cursive font, but it needs to be legible.” I wanted to know what it said the instant I saw it. “And dark blue. Not quite black.”
“I’ve got just the colour.”