6. Julian
SIX
JULIAN
I’ve worn a path into the concrete. I’m pacing around the block now between the shop and my apartment. I should go home, but I can’t. I’m restless and angry.
And hurt.
I know I didn’t know Maddox. I get it, but still. I know Ian. I can’t imagine wanting the person you love to go through this alone. I didn’t know Maddox, but if he loved Ian like I think he did, I know he wouldn’t want to see him like this.
Something has to give. Somewhere.
After I find a spot to eat, I think about turning toward my apartment, but instead I find myself halfway back to the shop.
It’s been a little over an hour now. I just need to talk to him.
If I go home, I know I’ll spend the rest of my day off just playing everything back and driving myself crazy with maybe I should have and maybe I shouldn’t have.
When I get to the shop something prickles the back of my neck as I reach for the door.
I wonder if Jamie went back to the lake house, or if he’s still here.
His family owns this house on the waterfront just through the woods next to the park.
We’ve been there a couple of times. It’s really nice.
Jamie and Noah spend a lot of time here lately.
Nearly every other weekend they make the trip up here.
When I open the door, I know something’s wrong. I step through and it takes a moment for my brain to process what I’m seeing. “Fuck!” I run over to Ian passed out with vomit down his shirt. Thank god he’s sitting in the chair and not lying down.
I cover my nose and look at his planner.
Shit. I hate to do it, but he obviously can’t tattoo like this.
I wait for the number to pick up and hear a woman’s voice on the other end.
I apologize for the short notice and tell her there’s been an emergency.
She’s a little pissed, I can tell. Last minute cancellations are shit, but there’s nothing I can do.
I tell her Ian will call her tomorrow to reschedule and take off a percentage of the final amount. She’s satisfied with that and hangs up.
Shit, I don’t think he’ll be tattooing tomorrow either. I have two appointments also, and I think about cancelling them too.
We need help.
First things first, I turn up my nose and pick him up in my arms. We’re about the same size, but his dead weight isn’t helping any.
Going upstairs is going to be so much fucking fun.
He’s got a bit more bulk than me. Breathing hard up the stairs, I nearly drop him as we make it through the door. “You fucking owe me.”
I need to clean him up. I carry him to his couch and lay him on his side.
I walk to his room and find his dresser, pulling it open and instantly snapping it shut when I see the hot pink dildo on top.
Oh my god.
“It’s fine. Just get him a new shirt. He can change his underwear when he gets up.
” I will not be doing that. I open a different drawer and grab a new shirt then join him back on the couch.
I wrestle him out of the rancid one and he flops back down.
You know what. Fuck the shirt. I grab the dirty one with my two fingers and drop it into the washing machine.
I wish I could get him to drink something. I was only been gone about an hour, what the hell happened? I mean, we fought but . . . that couldn’t have caused this, right? Where’s Jamie?
Ian snores loudly, which I’ll take as a good sign.
His softly rising chest is the only thing keeping my blood pressure from bursting.
I find a little wastebasket in his room and slide it over to his head just in case.
He’s going to hurt when he wakes up And he stinks, but he can take care of that by himself.
I head back down to the shop and grab our appointment planner. I have an idea.
Ian is going to kill me.
Yet if he keeps going like this, he’s going to end up killing himself.
I need to take charge, because I know he won’t.
It takes me about an hour, but I finally get through all our appointments for the next two weeks and tell them all we have an emergency. Most understand. I let them know that in two weeks we’ll call them with new appointments, and we’ll take ten percent off.
Yeah, Ian’s going to kill me.
With my socked feet on his coffee table and sketchbook in hand, I smile at the picture I’m drawing. Only, in my drawing Ian is peacefully sleeping, not passed out drunk. As I fill in the shadows of his features, he stirs. “Oh. Oh, fuck.” Ian groans, leaning forward.
I grab the basket before he can throw up, and he heaves, emptying his stomach into the trash.
After a moment his body settles. “What the fuck,” he whines.
“You only have yourself to blame.” Watery red eyes blink up at me. Then he flips me off. Then he heaves again. Serves him right. “Do you know how fucking heavy you are? How about a ‘Thank you, Julian, for carrying me upstairs in your big strong arms.’ I barely dropped you.”
“You dropped me—” Head back into the can. Oh, cleaning that out is where my job ends and his begins.
Finally he stops throwing up.
“I feel like shit.”
“Feel like you chugged about three-quarters of that bottle of whiskey?” His bleary eyes blink at me.
“Don’t speak to me in fractions. My head hurts.” He attempts to sit up. “Fuck.”
“You need to go shower and change your clothes now. You stink. I’m going to make something to soak up all that alcohol.” I stand up, looking back at him. He doesn’t move. “Now.”
“Jules, just go home. I’m fine.”
“If you say you’re fine one more time, I’m going to quit.” I glare at him. “Go take a fucking shower. I’m going to make food.”
Ian sits a moment before he concedes. I don’t know whether it’s to be stubborn or he needs to remember how to stand. Either way, he gets up slowly and walks into his bedroom and opens his top drawer then looks back at me.
“I didn’t see the dildo.”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head, grabbing a clean pair of boxers and disappearing into his bathroom. Okay, food. I look in his fridge and notice how bare it is. I see cheese, eggs, bacon, hot sauce.
Breakfast for dinner.
I find English muffins on the counter. Not exactly my favorite, but I’m working with the basics. My mind stays mostly on what I’m about to tell him. It’s necessary, but I know he’s going to kill me.
I did text Anna while I waited for him to wake up and she was more than on board with my plan. I know Ian’s going to fight me, but I’m ready for it. I can’t keep going at this pace and neither can he.
I’m toasting the muffins when Ian walks out in his boxers, his blue-green eyes much clearer.
I look back and drink in the tattoos on his thighs.
I’ve noticed Ian has a thing for animals.
He has an elephant on top of one thigh that goes over his knee, and he has some sort of a pelican on the inside of his thigh done in an American traditional style.
He’s got the antihero Venom on his other knee, the creature’s tongue out dripping saliva in that same sketched-ink style as the one on his back.
He’s got a sword on the inside of his other thigh, and a giant tattoo of a humpback whale on the outside.
I can only see the first half; its lower half disappears under his boxers.
Then my eyes drag up, taking in the galaxy tattoo on his chest. That tattoo is insane.
It begins just below his pecs. The dark clouds swirl and form a border, then you’re dropped into darkness punched through by stars, milky ways, and galaxies.
There are several shining moons and an undiscovered planet that pops against all the darkness surrounding it.
The tattoo crawls over his shoulders, nearly bleeding into the angel-devil on his back.
The tattoo stops halfway up his neck and sort of spills down one arm, while it stops at his other shoulder, morphing into an ocean half sleeve on his arm. “Did Maddox do that?”
Ian looks confused, then realizes and nods. “Yeah. He’s done most of mine.”
“Except for the ones I’ve done.” I smile. Yeah that ocean sleeve is all my work. Pops of color decorate his nearly black and gray ocean-themed arm. It looks like a small ecosystem on his skin.
He steps further into the kitchen and comes over to me, looking over my shoulder.
“Thank you.” He kisses my cheek making warmth sink into my skin.
Thank god he brushed his teeth. “I’m sorry about earlier.
I’m sorry I yelled at you. That was wrong.
I was upset and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. ”
I swallow with a nod as he moves and leans against the counter. “Where’s Jamie?”
“Well, that was why I was drinking.” Shame sparks in Ian’s eyes. He takes a deep breath and shakes head. “After you left, I said something horrible to him. Something I can’t take back.”
“How bad?”
His shoulders drop. I let him have a minute, fixing his sandwich and sliding it to him with the hot sauce.
He pours a generous amount onto the cheese and groans when he takes a bite.
“Goddamn, that’s good.” He puts the sandwich down then rubs his face.
“I lashed out when he was just telling me the truth. I didn’t want to hear it.
I basically blamed him for the accident.
” He drags in a shaky breath then presses his palms to his eyes. “I can’t believe I did that.”
His hands drop as he reaches for his sandwich again.
“He knows you didn’t mean it.”
He shakes his head. “He said he knows I didn’t but . . . it was so ugly, Jules. I don’t blame him. What the hell is wrong with me lately? I hate this. And you—fuck, I’m so sorry. I never meant to yell at you. I’m so sorry.”
I take a bite of my sandwich. “Hold your sorry, you might want to take it back.”
“What?”
“I did something and you’re going to be pissed.”
His eyes cut to slits. “What do you mean?”
Come on courage, don’t fail me now. I played this conversation over in my head the entire time he was passed out. I’ve practiced this, but I’m having a hard time now finding the words. “You were right, I didn’t know him—”
His eyes soften. “Jules—”
“No. Listen to me. I didn’t know him, but I can’t imagine loving someone and watching them burn themselves out like this.
I didn’t know him, but if you think the way you’ve worn yourself so thin for this shop is what he would’ve wanted—” I take a breath, my words rattling around.
I need to say this. I have to. “I’m not going to speak on your relationship.
I’m just going to say this.” I steady my thoughts.
“I didn’t know him, but I would never want this for you, Ian. ”
“I told you, I’m fine, it’s just—”
“I called all our appointments for the next two weeks and said we need to reschedule them.”
“What?”
“I said in two weeks we’ll call them and reschedule. I offered ten percent off and said we’ll get them done soon. Most understood.”
“Are you fucking joking!? You have no right—”
“You need a break! We need a break. Anna, well Anna barely works, but she wants a break too. We need a break. You can’t keep going like this. Two-week vacation. That’s what we’re all doing.” I finish up my sandwich and try to ignore the visibly seething man.
“Well, I guess I’m calling everyone back and telling them my coworker’s insane.”
Hurt slaps me. “Coworker? I’m your friend, dick.
Which is why this is happening. I don’t care what you do for those two weeks, but you’re not tattooing.
You’re taking a vacation. I don’t care if it’s in your fucking bedroom or in the Bahamas.
Go to Jamie’s. Go to the fucking moon. You’re taking a break. ”
“No I’m not. You can take a vacation, but I’m not going to do that to my clients.”
I figured as much.
I take my plate and put it in the sink then walk over to him. “You can go ahead and do whatever you want, but if you don’t do this, I quit.”
“What?”
I bite back the burn in my eyes. “If you don’t take a vacation, that’s it. I’m done.” I swallow hard when his eyes meet mine. “I can’t keep doing this. Having the same arguments. Watching you destroy yourself. I’m done. Either take these next two weeks off or find a new artist.”
Before I can change my mind, I’m out the door, hoping for once he’ll do the right thing.