Chapter 5 #3
Too. My heart tumbled over that word. It meant Rafe had said that he was, and suddenly all the guilt I felt for walking away that day began to recede. We deserved to know ourselves, and it seemed like he was making an effort. “Thank you,” I said again, and that time it wasn’t sharp or clipped.
Alexander held my eyes for a long time. Neither of us said anything.
We just stood there, looking at each other in the mirror, and there was a sense of mourning.
Like if we’d been different people with different childhoods, maybe he wouldn’t be terrified to accidentally touch a woman and I wouldn’t be terrified to smile at a man.
I remember how our faces softened as we stared, and I remember how he smiled a little bit as if in offering for me to do the same.
I resisted, the cheesy pop song filtering through the store wrapping around us, and then I let my mouth tilt upward.
It wasn’t a full smile, but it was more than I offered most strangers.
“Rafe is an incredibly lucky man,” he said, and it wasn’t with jealousy or ire. It was completely matter of fact, as if he was reading the statement from a legal document back to me.
“Deep down I know it was a mutual decision to remain separated,” I admitted, "but part of me thinks that he must hate me for not choosing to run with him."
His smile fell, his look serious as he pinned my eyes in the mirror.
“If there’s anything I remember most about Rafe Creed, it’s that the kid had a heart big enough to eat hate alive.
More than that, he doesn't run away, not unless it's to save someone else.
The decision was mutual, and he is happier.
Rafe is healing, Arden. You all are, and that's not something to beat yourself up over. You should be proud of yourself for taking that step.”
My smile grew stronger. “Yeah?”
“Absolutely.” He grinned too. “You’re his light, but for a little bit, Rafe was mine. It's been years, but that never really changed.”
I tilted my head, studying him in a new light. “Alexander…were you and Rafe…did you love him?”
Apprehension crossed his features but he shook his head, not so much in disagreement but more so in not wanting to think on it.
“Not in the way you’re thinking. Like I said before, he was more of a kid brother.
Besides, I wasn’t allowed to love things, Arden.
For the most part, I’m still not.” But he kept his smile and jutted his chin toward mine.
“But I do love that. Smiling is the best thing you’ve tried on tonight, Mrs. Creed.
Buy it for yourself, won’t you?” Then he left.
I stood there long after he was gone, staring at my own reflection.
I didn’t recognize the girl looking back at me.
She looked…happy. I stripped out of the dress and slipped into the jeans and long sleeve top I first tried on.
Then I put on the converse Monty ended up finding in my size.
Tucking my hair behind my ears, I gathered the small pile of things I ended up liking and headed to the register.
The others were at the door, passing a bottle of brandy around.
I checked out quickly, carrying the bags over and thanking Mickey when he took them from me.
We stepped outside, waiting on the driver, and Alexander lifted the bottle of brandy. “Well my unkindness,” he said dramatically, confusing the hell out of me. “She’s used the card. We all know what that means.” He threw the liquor back before passing it to me. “Take a drink, Raven.”
“Caw-caw!” Mickey let out, and Monty and Heath cackled, folding at the waists.
Alexander shook the bottle at me. “C’mon. Earn your wings.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked but accepted the bottle. I brought it to my lips, squeezing my eyes shut before I tilted it back and took a large swig. I coughed, the brandy burning down my throat, and the others smiled broadly. “What?”
Mickey spread his arms. “Caw-caw!”
I snorted, and the others laughed, the car pulling up to the curb. “Alright, I get it, but do Ravens really caw?” I asked as we ducked into the back seats.
“Sort of. I think so. It’s just fun to say,” Heath said and tugged up the hem of her dress, revealing ink of a raven on her thigh. It was beautiful and intricate, the feathers curving around her leg. “Next stop,” she said, grinning, “you’ll really get your wings.”
The tattoo parlor was dark, music blaring as we were led by a man who’d called himself Freddy The Man to a seat in the back. “Plop on down, pretty thang,” he said, snapping on gloves, turning off the music, and starting to clean his needles. “Where do you want your ink?”
I settled into the chair, Ravens surrounding me.
Freddy looked down at my hands clasped in my lap and winced a little.
“Goodness, girl, I won’t be able to tattoo over anything like that.
” I was so used to my burns that I rarely noticed them but Freddy bringing them up made me entirely self conscious.
“Oh,” I said softly. “I’m burned mostly on my thighs and hands, but I have some scarring and wounds along my back, calves, biceps—”
“I’m gonna stop you there,” Freddy said with a pointed look. “Now there’s nothing to be ashamed about, baby, but if you don’t have a smooth spot, I’m not your guy. You’ll have to see someone who specializes in that.”
Monty circled the chair, grinning from ear to ear when she faced me, which I knew couldn’t be a good sign. “I know a great place. Take your shirt off.”
“W-what?” I sputtered.
“Like I said, you have great boobs,” she explained, “but they’d look even better with a raven between them.”
“Um, thanks? I think?” I managed.
Monty pointed at Alex and Mickey. “Out! Officially no boys except Freddy allowed!”
Heath straddled a rolling stool and dangled the brandy in front of me. “You’re gonna want more of this.”
Eight hours. It took all night for Freddy to do the piece, and while it was painful, it was extremely liberating to put something of my own design on my body. The raven’s beak was open between my breasts like it was releasing a battle cry, its wings spread large across my rib cage.
Monty and Heath were passed out drunk in the corner, the brandy long gone. Alex and Mickey disappeared, so it was just me and Freddy The Man. He put the final touches on the left wing, his eyes flicking up to mine then back down. “There. It’s done.”
Exhausted, I swayed a bit when I stood and Freddy let me hold onto his shoulder as I kept an arm over my breasts.
I stepped to the mirror and he turned away, which I found hilarious considering he’d stared at my boobs for hours.
I looked into the mirror with a soft laugh, my smile falling a little.
The left wing was less shaded, appearing lighter than the right.
“Freddy,” I said gently, “I think maybe the left needs more ink.”
He turned back to me, his eyes narrowing on the wing. “No.”
“No?”
“One white eye. One grey,” he said and gestured to my face. “Your raven matches your strength, endurance, and love.”
My stomach clenched. “I wasn’t born with my eyes like this.”
His stern look softened. “Sweetheart, I know. Like I said: strength, endurance, and love. That’s what I saw when I looked into your eyes, and that’s what your raven became.
” He gingerly grabbed my shirt from its folded place on the stand and handed it to me.
Then he grabbed a tissue and passed it as well.
I took it, confused, before I finally met my own eyes and found my cheeks wet.
“Every single one of them cried,” he said nodding his head toward the passed out Monty and Heath. “I don’t know what the fuck you all went through, and I don’t know that I ever want to, but if you ever need someone to talk to, my door’s open to any Raven.”
I slipped on my top and managed a weak smile. “Thank you,” I whispered.
Freddy nodded before he moved to Monty and Heath, clapping his hands loudly in their ears. “Up, girls. I’ve got an 8 am client.”
Monty barely budged but Heath let out some kind of feral screech. “Not so loud! Shhhhhhh…” She pressed her finger sloppily to her lips and went back to cuddling Monty.
“Still drunk then,” Freddy mumbled and grabbed his phone. He texted quickly. Then he lifted his head, “Mr. Creed is sending a car. Him and Delgado went home.”
Home. What a strange, unusual word.
The weeks after the thrift shop passed in a blur.
Every morning, the five of us met in the parlor while Alexander stood by the window with his coffee and handed out assignments.
Heath would sit cross-legged on the rug, bright-eyed and restless, pretending she was listening while she spun one of her rings around her finger.
Monty would act like she was above the entire concept of a schedule.
Mickey would nod with exaggerated seriousness, as if he was accepting a sacred charge from a king, even when Alexander was telling him to run mundane errands.
And then there was me, sitting there with my hands in my lap, waiting for my turn like a dog that had been trained to stay.
“Go read,” Alexander told me the first morning, without even glancing up from the folder in his hand. The second morning, I fought harder, but his eyes cut to mine, annoyed. “Your time will come, Arden, and when it does, you can’t fuck up. So go study.”
By the end of the next month, I hated books and diagrams and the caution that bombs demanded.
It was one thing to understand on paper how to build a bomb.
It was another thing entirely to trust my own hands to do so.
I started building small devices, taking them to the rooftop with Mickey and setting them off.
I’d purposefully made the practice bombs as nothing more than smoke bombs, watching different colors pop to life every time I hit a detonator.