Impacted (Conflicted Encounters #2) (33 page)

"Is she okay?" I asked as I motioned to Travis to get his attention. I mouthed Scarlett's name and pointed to my truck. He got the message and waved me off.
 

"She's passed out drunk. Wasted," he said.
 

"But it's only like four in the afternoon," I argued.

"I know."

"I'll be right there," I said before hanging up.
 

I drove over to Logan's quickly. My fists clenched the steering wheel. I wish that asshole wasn't arrested so I could get a hold of him. Scarlett always could party and was never one to be conservative, but she never drank herself sick or into the next day. I parked the truck in his driveway and pulled out my phone to text Kallie. I knew she was worried when she left today. She loved Scarlett like she was her own sister.
 

Found Scar. Drunk. Taking her home. -R

Seconds later, my phone went off as I was about to pull open the front door to Logan’s.

Crap. I'll be home tonight. Almost to my parents. Love you. -K

Good. Maybe she can work her girly magic and help my sister out of this hole she is digging herself into. I walked in without knocking and found Logan in the living room. He sat on the old coffee table looking over Scarlett, who was passed out on the couch. Her face was pale and her long dark hair was a rat's nest. I shook her shoulder, but she didn't move. I leaned over her and could hear her soft breathing.
 

"She just showed up here?" I asked Logan.

"Yeah. I didn't see a car, so I have no idea how she even got here," he said, watching her with worry. I heard a moan and turned to see Scarlett starting to try to sit up.
 

I sat on the edge of the couch and helped pull her up while Logan moved a bucket closer to her, and just in time too. Scarlett whined before leaning over and getting sick. I rubbed her back and held her hair while she continued to empty her stomach. Her skin felt clammy and her hands were shaking. I wanted to scream at her for doing this to herself, but it wouldn't do any good. I knew she was hurting and thought that this would make it better.

After she collapsed back on the couch, I went and got her more water. She drank what she could, but it didn't help the shaking. Logan and I paced, waiting for her to come to. I wasn't going to try to move her like this. I also didn't really want to carry her ass up the flight of stairs to our apartment, either.

"Who the fuck let her get like this?" Logan asked.
 

"I don't know. I shouldn't have let her leave last night," I admitted.
 

"Yeah," he laughed. "I would have loved to see you try to make her stay." He was right. There was no getting her to do anything she didn't want to.
 

"Can we not talk about me like I'm not here?" Scarlett spoke up.
 

"What the hell were you thinking?" I asked her, completely frustrated with her.

"Fuck off," she moaned. "I was trying to have fun. Just because you don't know how, doesn't mean you get to lecture me."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I growled.
 

"You spent the last six months moping around. I'm not going to let Adam or Jacob or whatever his name is to get to me like that. I'm stronger than that," she threw back at me.

"Right," I laughed coldly. "You look real strong right now next to a bucket of puke and barely able to move. Way to overcome." It was harsh, but she needed it.

"Leave me alone," she said softly. I felt my chest tighten, and as I often did, I felt her pain as my own. A gut-wrenching ache moved through my body, and I stumbled back to regain my breath.
 

I clenched my fists and stormed out to the front porch. I was angry. I was mad at her for hurting herself. I was made at Adam/Jacob for making her feel like this. I was mad at myself for not being able to make it all better for her. I was all she had in life. Since my father walked out, she had no one. My mom loved her, but never could get out of her own pain enough to fully give us what we needed. Because of that, Scarlett would never let anybody in. Now, I doubted she ever would again.
 

The sky was gray and a cold breeze blew over my skin. I could smell the rain and it made me think of Kallie. Every rainstorm since she left sent me into a depression. It was a storm that wove our pasts together and a storm when the truth was revealed. I first kissed her in the rain and earned her forgiveness in the rain. I deeply inhaled the cool summer air, relieved that this storm wouldn't be painful.
 

The door closed behind me, and I turned to see Scarlett coming out, wrapped in a knit blanket. She looked like hell. Her eyes were baggy and sunken in. Her skin was still pale and her hair had seen better days.

"Sorry I was a bitch," she mumbled before handing me my phone. "Your phone was going off."
 

"Thanks," I said as I took it.
 

"Where's Kallie?" she asked, concerned.

"Packing up back home," I told her and watched her body relax.
 

"Oh, good," she sighed. "I thought she left."

I shook my head and unlocked my phone to look at the notifications. One was a text from Kallie that she was leaving soon to head back. The other was from the weather app. I opened it and saw the warnings for the Cleveland area. My phone still had the location from when we visited before. The weather was calling for high winds, hail, and tornado watches. I quickly called Kallie, my heart in my throat.
 

"Hey, I'm on my way," she said when she picked up.

"Turn around. Stay there," I told her.

"What?" Why?" she asked with panic in her voice. "I thought," she stopped and I could hear the pain in her voice.

"No, I do," I corrected her right away. "I want you here more than anything. There's a bad storm up there and I don't want you to drive in it."

"Oh," she let out a breath. "I'll be fine. It's not raining that hard yet."

"Kallie," I pleaded, closing my eyes tightly. "Please. Just stay there. I don't want anything to happen to you." Visions of lights and mangled metal assaulted me. I knew too well the danger of the dark country roads at night, let alone during a storm.

"But, I miss you," she whispered. I knew she was close to caving, even if she didn't want to.
 

"I miss you, too," I told her. "Please don't drive."

She sighed into the phone, and I heard the clicking of a blinker. "Fine. I will stay with my parents tonight."

She didn't sound too thrilled, but I smiled any way. "Thank you. I love you."

"I love you, too. How's Scarlett?"

"Working on it. Now hang up and text me when you're back at their house."

"Yes, sir," she said before we hung up.
 

I walked back in the house where I found Logan and Scarlett. Scarlett eventually relented and took a shower before we headed home. I didn't really want to be alone for the night, so Logan came back with me. I figured we could have some beers and watch some mindless TV. After a few drinks, I became worried about the silence from Scarlett's room. I knocked softly before opening her door.
 

She was lying on her bed, sketching in her notebook with charcoal. She barely even noticed me come into the room. She was always completely sucked up in her art. Papers were scattered all over her room, along with everything else she was supposed to be unpacking. I picked up some, looked at them, and started to stack them neatly on her desk. I grabbed one off the floor and my body froze.
 

It was a tall tree. Done in only black strokes of a charcoal pencil, the lines formed roots, a trunk, and branches. It was dark and somber, but simple and powerful at the same time. I felt it tug at something deep inside me. I was never one to really appreciate art. Sure, I would look at Scar's works and think they were awesome, because they were. But I was the guy you would drag along to an art museum and would whine about it. All I saw was a canvas with paint splashed on it or a messed up looking face. Others would see pain, love, hope, or something more, something deep. I could never see that.
 

Looking at this sketch of a tree, I saw more. I saw pain. I felt the pain from Kallie, Logan, and Carter. My eyes traveled up the coarse lines from the roots and up the truck, and I felt the growth. I felt hope growing from the base and then branching out into possibilities and future. I clutched the paper and felt connected to it. It didn't just represent the physical tree that started a storm of emotions and actions. It represented everything that happened because of that tree.

"Everything happens for a reason," Scarlett said simply, watching me stare at the drawing.
 

"I want this," I told her.

"Let's go," she said, getting up from the bed.
 

I didn't need to say more. She understood. She grabbed her things, the key to the shop, and ushered a very confused Logan down to the truck. It was drizzling when we got in the truck. A check of the weather showed we wouldn't get much more, but up north was getting hammered. As much as I wish Kallie was with me right now, I was glad she waited it out for me. I knew she would be safe at her parents' house. I also knew that her dad loved her more than anything and nothing would happen to her. As long as she had her family and me, she would be fine.

The bell rang as the three of us entered the parlor. Brent was behind the counter and looked surprised to see us only minutes before closing. His eyes widened when Scarlett marched right past him and to her booth in the back. She brushed her hair before leaving, but didn't have any makeup on and her face was set in stone.
 

"How is she holding up?" he whispered to Logan and I as we stopped at the counter.
 

"Taking it hard," I told him, and he frowned. Scarlett had worked for Brent since she got out of high school. He looked after her as much as we did. "She's gonna do some ink for me, if that's alright?"

"Go ahead," he waved me off. "I'm not gonna tell her she can't do shit if she's in a bad mood."

We laughed at his joke and headed in the back to find Scarlett. She was already in her latex gloves and setting out the ink. She motioned for me to sit and I did. I pulled off my shirt and rolled to my side, giving her the canvas of my rib cage. Logan pulled up another chair and we waited for Scarlett to get started. She cleaned me off with a cotton ball and grabbed the tray of black ink. When she turned with the ready tattoo machine, I gave her a quick nod.
 

I knew what she was asking, and I trusted her enough to let her do it. She wanted to free hand the tattoo. She would normally make a transparency on paper and transfer the outline to the body. Brent joined us in the room after locking up. He sat back and chatted with Logan. I let Scarlett work on me in silence. This wasn't my first tattoo, or the most painful, so I didn't need words of comfort or breaks in the process. I let her keep going, only stopping to get more ink in the pen.
 

Her art was her release, and I knew she was working out her own pain as she drew on me. I knew she felt what I felt when I saw the tree, and she would do it justice. I got the tattoo where Kallie had gotten her feather. Each tattoo in the same spot, representing one uniting experience. Both represented loss and pain, turning to growth and acceptance, and ending with unlimited possibilities. Maybe Scarlett was right and everything happened for a reason.
 

I didn't know why she was left at the altar and maybe we would find that out later. I don't know why my dad betrayed my family and broke my mother's heart. I didn't really see the reason for someone like Carter to lose his life. What I do know is that Kallie was meant to find me. She came down here looking for answers, and she found more than she had questions. I found her and she found a new her waiting inside her. She went home and broke my heart, but she came back. Maybe we needed that time apart. Maybe Kallie needed to find out who she was without me.

I saw the confidence and determination in her eyes when I left her this morning. She knew she was going home and would be back. She learned from experience what it was like to fall back into step with her life there. She now knew what it felt like to create her own work and stand on her own. I knew she loved her family, but she loves the future she can create for herself even more.
 

The buzzing on my skin stopped and I looked up into Scarlett's eyes. They were watered over as she pulled off the gloves and turned to wipe the ink off. The tree was perfect. The lines in the trunk were drawn like she was working with paper. The black ink contrasted perfectly on my tanned skin. It was permanent, and I couldn't ask for anything more perfect. It represented so much for Kallie and I, while also drawn with Scarlett's pain. It was perfect.
 

Kallie

"Hey," I said, twirling a piece of grass in between my fingers. "It's been too long." I took in a deep breath and ran my fingers over the words engraved in the cold stone.
 

Carter Allen Walsh.