Colour Series Box Set (17 page)

“I HAVE SOME SCARS
that I want covered. I will show you, you won’t ask because I won’t tell, I want you to make the ugly beautiful. You’re an artist Robin, you do what you want over them. Just cover them all so I don’t have to look at them every day.” I try to sound assertive and confident talking to the big man whose eyes are gentle and soft.

“Okay, let’s see pretty lady,” Robin’s voice is friendlier than his presence. He’s a large man with bulging muscles and what I know, a gang tattoo on his cheek.

I remove my cardigan and my maxi dress easily leaving only my underwear on and turn around for Robin to see them all. I hear him suck in a breath and then I see his eyes dart to mine in absolute horror at what he sees. He lifts his finger signalling me to wait a moment and walks out the door. I can hear him slamming Rowan against the wall outside. “Was that you Rowan? I will fucking kill you man. What the fuck is that?” he screams that my blood turns cold. Shit. Shit. Shit. I can’t hear the rest they are talking in whispers now, so I just sit down and wait for him to return. If he returns, maybe he won’t want to help me get rid of my ugly.

“I‘m sorry Lauri,” Robin replies quietly when he does return. “That was wrong of me, but if it was him, I would have killed him. I can cover your scars; you will still feel them but won’t see them. It will take a long time and it’s going to hurt like a mother fucker, but it can be done. Do you have ideas or are you a blank canvas?”

“You can do what you like as long as it’s beautiful, no skulls and death or blood. Also no religious shit, God forgot me long ago.” I want the pictures on my skin to be beautiful; I want them to make me pretty.

He tells me to lay face down on his table and we can start right away, he sets up a load of colours and his gun before asking me if I’m alright with the pain. Seriously what’s with that question already? The first sting of the needle makes me jump but after that the feel of it ripping along my skin erasing Renzo’s work has me in a trance after a short time. The stinging, searing, burning pain takes me away from everything else. I close my eyes and let it take me away. I imagine what will be painted on my skin and my mind goes back to Rowan’s heart. It’s so beautiful but so dark at the same time.

I don’t know how much time has passed when Robin taps me to signal he is done for today. He peels his latex gloves off of his big hands and throws them away, admiring his work on me.

“Look in the mirror and see what you think, it is going to take months to cover it all but we will. You will have to let your skin rest tomorrow and come again the day after, same time?” Robin talks as I look at my left shoulder and upper back in the mirror. I’m not really listening to him. It’s unbelievable he has started to ink the most real red roses with black filigree in the spaces between them over the worst of my scars. Even with them all red and sore, it takes me a second to let it soak in. This was the best idea ever. “Thank you. It’s ... it’s stunning,” is all I manage to squeak. The picture has erased the raised purple mark that the scissors left on me.

I set off to find Rowan and agree to see Robin again the day after tomorrow. Robin follows me into the kitchen, where Rowan is chatting to his wife.

“We’re done for today, she can come again day after tomorrow and we can pen in dates from there to finish.” Robin talks to Rowan in a friendly tone that doesn’t match his huge frame and I know that they are still friends after their little argument earlier.

“I need to come tomorrow Rob, if you have time?” Rowan speaks to his friend and I see something in his eyes that makes my blood turn cold. It’s Robin’s expression that worries me more, it’s shame or anger or hurt I’m not sure what. Feelings are not my thing. He simply nods at Rowan. A silent agreement that they don’t need to say out loud the air between them is thick with some sort of secret I don’t want to know.

We step outside into the sunshine of the early afternoon. I know Rowan is dying to see or ask to see what my new ink looks like. He keeps glancing at my now covered up shoulder as if he wants to ask me. I am not ready to share yet. We climb into my very sexy looking car and head off to do some groceries. I already don’t know how old this morning’s bacon was and I am afraid to trust much of what was left in the freezer. The eggs only had one day to go to their expiry date.

I don’t know why but there’s an awkward silence between us and Rowan’s mind seems to be far away as we drive. He has been in a dark place all day if I am honest and the look he shared with Robin left me feeling scared of him all over again. The air in the car is awkward and tense. I decide to shop at a smaller shop just outside the city rather than in a big mall with thousands of people. My shoulder aches and I wince a little as I turn the steering to park my new car. Rowan notices but doesn’t say a word. His cocky half smile is giving me the ‘I told you so’ he doesn’t dare actually say.

We get out of the car and grab a trolley and head into the store, I am creature of habit and I always shop at the same chain of stores so I know where everything is. This was one of the very few luxuries I was allowed by Renzo, I could grocery shop once a month if I had behaved according to his rules. Never alone, he or one of his security team was always there but it was my little reprieve from hell and I loved it. There is some small talk between us over cereal and full cream or two percent milk as we shop. I have almost filled the trolley when I realize I have no money as in zero cents to my name. I’m am, after all, dead remember. I hope he knows he is paying for all of this.

“Umm, Rowan, I can’t pay for all this,” I manage to mumble to him as I stop the trolley blocking the whole aisle for everyone else.

“Umm Lauri, I knew that he waves his credit card at me. You’ll get your bank cards and ID this afternoon, then you can access all your funds plus the original fund set up in your name before Mick died.” He states this all to me very matter of fact. I know that the money I had kept hidden from Renzo was over ten million Rand and as for the other fund I knew nothing of it other than that it did exist but while I was Ellia I couldn’t access it at all.

“Thanks Rowan, you know, for making sure he never got my money, he took enough from me already.” I look at the floor when I thank him. He really did save me.

When we finally hit the checkout I have bought over eight thousand Rands worth of groceries, but Rowan really had nothing in the house and I’m so used to shopping only once a month I don’t know how to do it any other way. The shopping fills my boot that I can hardly see out the rear window at all. Rowan still seems on edge. He’s colder than he was last night and I’m sure something is eating at him; he has been quiet all day. Maybe he’s tired? I heard him come in at around three this morning so he only had a few hours of sleep, like three maybe. I feel a bit bad for making a noise in the kitchen now.

Arriving home just on an hour later, Rowan unpacks the car and I pack the kitchen. Claiming it as my domain. After unpacking, Rowan sprawls out on the couch and I start cleaning this morning’s dirty dishes and packing the dishwasher while I decide what to cook. I’m so excited to cook. I have a million dishes floating through my head and all these new fresh ingredients to choose from, I feel so free.

My shoulder and back are stinging something fierce; I got some gunk from Robin to put on it but just realized that I won’t reach to do it myself. Grabbing the tube of smelly gunk I head over to Rowan on the couch and sit next to him holding it out, I ask cautiously. He is off today, something is wrong.

“Would you mind? It’s hurting like a bitch now and I feel it’s bled into my clothes.”

He grabs it from me and I turn away from him pulling my sleeves down to expose my back and shoulder to him the material scraping over my skin hurts like hell but I enjoy that discomfort, that pain is erasing the hurt that came before. This is on my terms.

I hear Rowan suck in a breath loudly.

“Holy fuck that looks amazing, did you look at it? Shit he’s an artist. Hold still this will sting like a motherfucker for a bit.” He leans into me talking to me over my shoulder, causing me to tense at the proximity and prospect of him touching me. Calm down, focus, breathe, do not panic he won’t hurt you. I was wrong it hurt like hell. He doesn’t give me chance to breathe he starts to smear the gunk over my raw skin and he was not kidding. Holy shit. I hiss as he hits an overly sensitive spot. When he’s done, he passes the tube back over my shoulder and get up to go put on some not bloodied clothes. I’m trying to fight the clawing at my throat the panic that is about to burst out. I need some distance between me and Rowan and my room gives me a few minutes of silence to tranquillize my frantic mind.

After I change out of my blood stained clothes, I wash my hands and tie up my now very unruly hair. I’m ready to go back into the kitchen to cook for us and our guest. The thought of anyone other than Rowan being here scares me a little. Once I am settled back into the kitchen I start prepping the fresh salmon with some garlic, sun-dried tomatoes, olives and green beans and put it in an oven pan ready to grill later. Seasoning the fresh pink fish with herbs from the small garden outside the back door that has been teasing from the window until now. The smells are intoxicating and my mouth is already watering for this meal. I also make a fresh salad and some asparagus with lemon butter. I have the worst hankering for sweets, so I decide to make a sweet chocolate and orange mouse for dessert. I look up to see Rowan sleeping on the couch, the late night has finally caught up to him now. I smile at how uncomfortable his big bulky body looks all squeezed up on that silly little couch. He’s going to have such a stiff neck. Idiot.

I AM A VILLAIN
, I didn’t choose this path, I certainly didn’t want this life and I do not love what I do. I sell drugs, guns and blood diamonds. Worse than that, I sell people.

Well, it’s my father’s business but I run things here in Africa, my punishment for being the useless unwanted son of his first wife was being sent to the ass end of the globe to do Pop’s dirty work for him. South Africa is a crime infested hole where it is all too easy for anyone with a bit of money and half a working neuron to get away with almost anything. My best friend Rowan is case and point, he sells murder. He has a very successful hit man business. No one even seems to find the dead bodies here, I’m sure that it is serial killer heaven. I even use his services, because murder I can’t do. I can do almost any other thing you want but I could not kill someone. I have done it once and I just don’t have the stomach for it. I have feelings and in the criminal world that’s not a trait that you want but sadly I can’t help it. I feel. I spend my days associating with the scum of the earth, trading weapons, drugs and lives between war torn countries and drug infested cities. You see, when you read that line that says there is no mob ‘in’ Ireland it is not all true, the mob is there but they work all over the world where it is easy to be unseen.

I don’t know how Rowan sleeps at night knowing how much blood stains his soul. I battle to sleep knowing that I have paid him for some of that blood. Tonight I asked Rowan to kill eighty five women in a shipping container. I feel ill thinking about those poor women but, Pops wanted to send a message to some associates and this was his way of talking loud and clear. Actions speak louder than words in the criminal underworld and I just yelled at a sheik in Dubai all the way from here. It’s the first time I’ve involved Rowan in the trafficking side of my life, I’ve kept it from him for years but I didn’t know how else to pull this off. He knows about the drugs, I’m sure he suspects the arms, but he knows nothing of the diamonds and the people I sell every single day. Now it’s three in the morning and he is pissed off with me for being less than honest with him. Pissing off a heartless murderer is probably not the best plan of action even if he is your best friend. I feel sick as I sit here in my kitchen downing scotch out of the bottle. I’m not in the mood to go back to the slut I left lying in my bed when I took Rowan’s call. They are always just sluts, no ones that I don’t care about. I loved a girl once; only thing was she loved Rowan more. In fact she loved him so much that when he broke her heart with his cold as steel emotionless life she took her own life and the life of their baby.