Page 77 of Watercolor Skulls

Cheers ring out across the bar. The men are antsy for a fight. We haven’t had one in a long, long time.

Later that night Raffe and Dirk find me sitting on the ground outside my room. They each take a seat beside me. Dirk lights up a joint and hands it to me, cocking an eyebrow. “You need to take the edge off, brother.”

I take a hit, passing it to Raffe.

“Today at the bridge, that was some heavy stuff.” Dirk leans over to take the joint from Raffe.

“I’m…I don’t know.” And I really don’t know. Lily dropped into my lap and in a few short weeks became my everything. I miss her.

Raffe blows smoke rings above us. “I’ve been going to a therapist since my accident.”

Dirk releases a huff of air but doesn’t say anything.

Raffe continues. “After my accident I…I didn’t want to live. Shit, I didn’t even know where to begin.” He runs his lighter over his jeans over and over again, the flame licking at the denim. “When we get her back she needs to talk to someone.”

Dirk tries to speak but Raffe interrupts him. “Not to us. She needs to talk to someone who is trained to deal with this sort of thing. Her wounds are deep. I know that we’ve all had our share of shit to deal with, but Lily was to the point where she couldn’t see past it. She gave up.”

“But she lived.” I lean back against the cool rough bricks of the hotel. The thought of her not living almost too much to bear.

He nods slowly. “She did and I think she found the space to breathe with us. All I’m trying to say here is we cannot mess this up. We can’t miss anything. She needs us no doubt, but she also needs professional help.”

“I can’t think past my need to have her in my arms.” I burry my face in my hands.

“I know, brother. We’ll get her back and then we go from there.” He pushes off my shoulder as he rises, giving it a squeeze before he walks away.

Dirk snuffs out the joint. “He’s right. Lily has a lot of shit to unpack. We can’t risk missing something. A fresh pair of eyes, ears, whatever a therapist might offer is not a bad idea.”

I run my hand over my face and stand. “I’ll talk to her about it. Along with the five million other things we need to discuss.”

“She’s worth it. You know this. I know this. We all know this. It’s like that shit she’s been resurrecting from the junkyard.” He jumps to his feet. “Her own fucking family left her to sit and rot. We aren’t going to do that. One man’s junk is another man’s treasure. Do you think the prick she’s being forced to marry tomorrow thinks of her as a treasure…fuck no. If he did she wouldn’t have jumped off that fucking bridge.”

Jesus he’s right. She was so desperate to escape them she tried to kill herself.

I knew she saw the world differently.

She looks past the exterior and homes in on what lies beneath. Like the way she talked with my mother. She didn’t hide the fact that my mother didn’t remember me. She rolled with the punches. She introduced me to my mother as her handsome boyfriend and my mother agreed. She thought I was handsome as her son and she thought I was handsome when I wasn’t her son. It made me feel good, like my mother still saw me and I guess she did…she does. Is one better than the other? Not really. It’s all how you look at it.

Then there’s Jackson. She didn’t shy away from him when he broke her painting. She made sure he knew he was more important than any material thing. Then she went above that and took time out of her day to embrace Jackson’s restlessness. She marveled in it and showed him how to turn it into something productive. She made an impact on him.

She sees the world differently because she knows what it’s like on the other side. She said so herself. That she felt stuck on one side of the glass, watching others live. She’s so good at it, she notices things others overlook.

I jump when I notice Dirk still at my side. He shoves me towards the door to my room. “Hit the hay, brother. Tomorrow is a big day. Smurf is going to see what being a Skull is all about.” He waits for me to unlock my door and stumble inside.

“What if she doesn’t want to go with me?” I hate being insecure, it doesn’t look good on me.

“Dan, that girl looks at you like you are some kind of knight in shining armor. Tomorrow she’s going to have proof of it.” He lights up a cigarette, backing out of my room. “Don’t you ever fucking tell Jesse I said shit like that.”

I laugh, then slam the door in his face. Fucking asshole. I fall face first onto the bed, the last couple days finally catching up.I’m coming for you, baby. Please don’t worry. I’m coming.

Chapter Thirty

Lily

???

Ispent the last night I’ll ever spend in this room, staring at the ceiling.

I’m grieving. For him.

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