TAUT (38 page)

I sail, I sail, I sail into the dark

The angel of death breeds

A sickness inside of me

The angel of death breeds

Killing the baby inside of me

I sail, I sail, I sail into the dark

It’s a poem. A dark one, for sure. But it’s a fucking poem. It’s not a suicide note. And she says that she takes words from songs she likes and creates new poems out of the same words. I go in the office and start up the computer. It’s not anything special, just your run-of-the-mill home setup. But it’s got internet and that’s all I need. I put the first line in the search bar and press enter.

Nothing. I add the refrain, since it’s repeated three times and it makes the poem look more like lyrics.

Bingo. A song called
Sail
by AWOLNATION.

It’s not even a dark song, it’s kinda techno and catchy. The video is actually quite stupid. Some shit about aliens. But Ashleigh’s arrangement of the words is disturbing when taken out of the context of where they came from. I can see why her family was upset.

I grab the box and open it up, looking for the journal she said she left behind when we left. It’s under a bunch of clothes, smells a little bit like dirty socks, and is bulging at the seams. Three thick rubber bands hold it together and prevent all the loose papers from escaping. I remove the rubber bands and it spills open as soon as the tension is released. Two passports fall out. I open the first one. Katelynn Li. She’s got just one stamp. USA. She entered the country on Christmas Eve. It’s even got a little baby picture of her.

I smile. God, I miss her already.

I put that aside and open Ashleigh’s. Her book is almost full, only a few pages left. She’s been everywhere. Most of them say USA and Japan, but she’s got a lot of Hong Kong and she looks totally different. The date of issue says 2006 and she’s got a punk haircut. Those bangs that drive her crazy now are short and dyed a hot pink. She’s got some black eye makeup on, and from the look of her pupils, she might be high. She’s wearing something revealing on top, I can’t see much of her clothes, but that’s because the shirt is cut very low. Sixteen-year-old Wild Ash is sexy as all fucking hell, but I’d spank her ass hard if she went out in public like this in front of me.

There are pictures too. All of Tony and Ashleigh. He’s a big guy and in every one he’s looking down at her tiny body like he won the Powerball.

He loved her. I have to concede that, he must’ve loved her. She’s right. She had love, she knows what it feels like and there’s no fucking way she’d settle for my pathetic bullshit as a second-hand substitute.

My phone buzzes and I quickly take it out and check the call hoping it’s Ash.

Jason. Fucking pest.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“Ford! Fuck, dude! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day! Some people were here looking for you and that girl you left with. I didn’t know it was a big deal, I swear. I told them you had a place in LA, man. I’m fucking sorry. Did they come to your house?”

I sigh loudly. “Yes, they did.”

He babbles on and on for a few minutes, explaining how he entered the VIN number into his computer and it downloaded as a Carfax database report.

Bam. Her father was on that shit quick.

I hang up with Jason after promising I’d come back and see them when things settled down.

Right.

My phone buzzes again. Pam. “Yes?”

“They’ll start looking elsewhere if you don’t show up today, Mr. Aston. Breach of contract.”

I almost snort thinking of me threatening Rook with the same thing last year when we did the STURGIS contract. She’d get a kick out of this, I’m sure. “Thanks, Pam. I’ll be in after lunch today.”

I go back to the journal and open it to the first page. It’s called
My Worry Book.

I read that journal from front to back. It’s a series of letters to Tony and God, alternating, one after the other most of the time. The letters to Tony tell him how scared she is that he’ll die on duty. Things she’d never tell him to his face because this was his dream and she wanted to support him.

The notes to God are nothing but begging. Begging God to spare her lover’s life in any number of ways.
Please don’t let him be shot. Please don’t let him be captured. Please don’t let him get blown up.

God was not listening, because Tony did get blown up. Into so many pieces nothing came home to be buried.

I read her fears and it breaks my heart that this is how she lived for three years. In between the journal entries to Tony and God are the poems. All sad poems. The Sail poem is there too, and it says flat out that it’s about death. It’s about Death taking her Tony and ripping away her innocence. It’s dated last year, not even related to this trip at all. That pink note was a desperate attempt to let people know how she was unable to cope with the loss.

The journal entries during the last months of her pregnancy were pretty happy. Ashleigh believed Tony was in a safer position, her worries were mostly about gaining weight, the baby not being healthy, being sick at the end.

And then… the day.

The day she learned about Tony’s death.

It says only one word over and over—
Why?

No other entries until New Year’s Day this year.

It’s a note to God.

Dear God,

Thank you for sending me Ford.

He’s perfect.

Thank you so, so much.

Ashleigh Li

Below that is another poem.

I’ve been searching for you

It’s always been you

Hearts and grace

You take me from this broken place

I’ll search for you

It will always be you

On my way home, all alone

In everything I do, I’ll search for you

I want your lips in a kiss

It’s true, I love you

I’ll always be searching for you

Because you are my saving grace

You take me from this broken place

I stare at those words for what seems like hours. I read it over and over and over. And then I go back to the computer and look for this one too. It takes me a while to find the original online because there’s two versions of this song. I listen to both several times before deciding this poem came from The Maine,
Saving Grace, Take 2.

This song just rips my heart out.

And she thanked God for
me
. I am her saving grace?

I toss the journal down on the couch and go take a shower so I can get dressed for work. I’ll be useless today, but all they want is the appearance that I give a shit about this project right now.

I do give a shit about this project. I want this project. We’re leaving in a week for New Zealand to start filming. They’re just rehearsing right now, a part of the production I’m not required to participate in, that’s the director’s job. But they want me to show an effort? I can do that.

I dress in my best suit, then stumble over that little yellow ducky as I come out of the closet in the bedroom.

Kate. God, no more Kate. No more Ash. And the last fucking impression she’ll have of me is being a controlling asshole, making demands of her out by the pool.

She wants the grand gesture. She wants the fairy tale.

But she’s in the middle of a nightmare right now. I only hope they took her home and not to some hospital.

I lock the door behind me and get in my Audi. I need the air conditioning today. It’s warm and I don’t want the windows open. I want to block out the world and not participate in it. The studio is not that far away and when I get there I go through the motions. I shake hands, laugh about my ridiculous luck in getting to LA in the Bronco. Explain my emotional attachment to the truck and why I needed to save it. They are all sappy artists, they totally understand my eccentricities. That’s one thing I always loved about being in the art community—they pretty much accept everyone. It does not matter how weird you are, they like weird.

And I think this show will be a hit. It’s got every popular trope going right now.

I waste hours chatting these people up, but on the inside I replay Ashleigh’s words over and over in my mind.

I want to be won, Ford. If you can win me, you can have me. I’ll be yours and you’ll have earned it
.

I hold it together until the day is finally over at six-thirty, and then get back in my car and drive home. I stop at the gate, but not because I need to enter a code.

It’s open.

Did I close it before I left?

My heart races as I drive up the hill, hoping that somehow Ashleigh found a way to come back, but when I get up to the house I almost crash the car into the garage door before I snap out of my surprise.

Rook is sitting on my doorstep.

Chapter Forty-Two

She stands up and waits for me to get out of the car but I just sit for a few seconds, staring at her. Why is she here? Did she leave Ronin? I open the door and get out, then close it gently, like noise will disrupt the fabric of the universe and bring it all crashing down upon me. I walk over to her and stand there. She’s got her hands in the pockets of her jeans, her shoulder slightly hunched, and her eyes are wide with expectation.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

“For what?”

“For taking advantage of our friendship. For taking you for granted. For not giving more. I’m sorry, Ford. I had no idea I was hurting you. I do love you, you have to know that. I do. It’s just…” She stops to take a deep breath. “It’s just… you’re right. It’s not the same way that I love Ronin. Not that it’s bad,” she adds hurriedly. “It’s not bad, just different. And I can’t stand the thought of you not being in my life. I’m going crazy here, Ford. I’m desperate to prove to you that I’m more than just a Taker. I’m a Giver, Ford. I want to give you whatever it is that will make you happy and bring you back into my life. I do.”

“Where’s Ronin?”

“Back home.”

“Does he know you’re here?”

“Yes. I told him I needed to sort this out.”

“How long are you staying?”

“As long as you want me to.”

“What do you want from me, Rook?”

“I want for you to love me, Ford. Like you did before this happened. I want for you to love me like that again. Because this”—she waves her arms in the air in an all-encompassing gesture—“this is not working for me. I can’t stand this, Ford. I need you. You’re my best friend.”

I unlock the door and wave her in, then follow. “Have you eaten?” She looks like she’s lost some weight.

“No, I’m not hungry.”

I throw my keys down on the counter and shake my head. “I have no idea what to say to you, Rook. A week ago I would’ve been thrilled that you came all this way to see me.” I look over at her face as she internalizes this and fuck. She’s upset.

She turns away and walks over to the door, but I’m there before her hand touches the handle. “No. No, you’re not walking away. I’m not running away. We’re gonna have to figure this out, Rook. Because I do love you. I do. I’m not sure what it means, but you’re important to me and what I did to you was wrong. I was—” I breathe deeply. “I was just hurting so badly that night. And I had that speech prepared, I was planning that escape. And even though I told myself it wasn’t to confuse you and make you feel what I was feeling, that’s exactly why I did it. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to miss me and regret not choosing me.”

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes and I feel like total shit. Rook is not a crier. She holds pretty much everything inside, so the fact that I’m making her cry right now… well, that’s painful too. “Don’t. Please. Don’t cry over this. I’m not worth it. I’m a total piece of shit.”

“Ford,” she says in a soft voice. She turns into me and throws her arms around my neck and hugs me. “You are worth it. To me, you are worth it. I can’t stand this. I can’t stand knowing that I was making you so upset all those months. All those months I was so happy and content and you were miserable. It—” She chokes back a sob. “It breaks my heart, Ford.”

I hug her back. “Did you leave Ronin?”

She pulls back to look at me. “Do you want me to leave Ronin?”

“Answer my question. I’m tired of the games.”

“No, I didn’t leave him. I love him. He’s my one, Ford. But you’re friendship is important to me. I need you. I can’t picture my life without you. Please, just tell me what I need to do to make this better.”

I am the biggest piece of shit alive. I win all the piece of shit awards.

I hug her close and breathe her in. “Rook, you’re a living goddess to me. You’re the most tragically beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. I love you so much. I’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

She pushes back a little so she can look up at me.

“But you’re right. It’s just a very special friendship. We’re friends. It’s taken me a while, but I finally get it. You belong to Ronin, Rook. And I’m so sorry that I caused all this bullshit with my childish actions.” She nods into my chest and breathes out a long sigh. “I might’ve found my one in this girl I was on the road with. But the shit just hit the fan this morning and to be honest, I could use a friend’s advice on what to do about it all.”

She turns her head up to me again and then wipes her eyes. “You can ask me, Ford. I’m pretty bad at making good decisions, but I’ll do my best to help you sort it out.”

“Let’s go eat first. You look so thin, Rook. I don’t like it.”

“I know,” she says, sniffling. “I can’t eat when you’re mad at me.”

“I’m sorry. But I’m not mad anymore, so let’s go get steaks at Mastro’s. Have you ever been?”