“Kind of a bad story. You really wanna know this?”
“You think I can’t take it?”
His eyes slid to hers. “Oh, you can take it. I’m worried about me.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she said, maybe a little hurt.
“I don’t want to,” he said defensively, “but I have to.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do. After everything you shared with me.” He let a hand settle on her belly—where several jagged lines came together in an illegible scrawl. “Besides, it’s kind of who I am, you know? Why I’m here.”
“Oh.”
Propped up on his side, head in his hand, he started. “Frank—that’s Gabe’s dad—beat Jessie up. Bad. So, when you told me about Joey, I thought that’s what you meant.”
“Oh, he hit me that night. But he also—” A flash of memory. Struggling, Joey holding her down, the fear that she’d never leave that room—not alive, at least. “Well, this happened.”
“Yeah.”
He leaned in and kissed her shoulder, that place where a crude heart had been etched and then crossed out in the space of a few short hours. Bile rose up as she remembered the pain of that heart, the pain of the lines over it even worse. She pushed the memory back.
Another kiss followed the first, this time on Joey’s name, penned in block letters, skittering off on theYwhen she’d bucked, hard. He’d run out of black ink halfway through that one. It had finally felt like the end—a reprieve—but he’d only disappeared for a minute before returning with more colors. The sight of all those bottles, brimming with ink, had about done Uma in. That was when she’d decided to let herself die.
She closed her eyes hard on the memory, shoving out the stench of ink and blood.
Ivan grasped her right hand and ran it across his abdomen to a white scar on his side. “Got this one in a car accident. I was such a fuckin’ young asshole. Almost lost a kidney. This was before the fight. I’d just gotten out of high school.”
“How old were you when the fight happened?”
“Twenty-two. But Frank was older than us. Son of a bitch got my sister knocked up while she was still in high school.”
“Oh no.”
“Yep. Then he beat her senseless, and I fuckin’ lost it. Lost it all, I guess. My job, my place. My girlfriend.Fiancée, actually,” he said with an exaggerated French accent.
“Oh.” She shivered, prompting Ivan to yank the quilt up, wrapping them in it. Once they’d settled, she went on, hesitant to ask. “What happened with her?”
“Turned out she wasn’t interested in bein’ married to a felon. She left me before I was even convicted. Actually, she didn’t officially break up with me. Just started sleepin’ with everyone else, claimed I’d hurt her. That was kind of a sign.”
“That doesn’t sound very loyal.”
“Nope. Loyal, she was not. Asked her to sell her engagement ring to help Jessie. Told her I’d get her another bigger, better one later, but she refused. Not even to buy food for a nursing mother.”
“Whoa.” Uma jerked back. “Jessie wasnursingwhen he beat her up?”
Ivan’s chest rose and fell a few times before he answered, voice strained. “Yeah. Did it in front of Gabe.”
“His own kid?” He gave a brief nod before Uma grabbed his hand in solidarity. “Where is he now?”
“Lives a few miles over, in the valley.”
“You ever see him?”
“Nah. He knows better than to come around here.”
“What about Gabe?”
