“This exact design? Nope, can’t say that I have. I do keep it in my own portfolio, as well as the one I left with Toby. But the phoenix seems to have died out. They were real popular some twenty-thirty years ago. Got a new life a while back, with the Harry Potter craze. But since then, not much.”

I took out a Benji and slid it across the table to him. “Does this help you remember?”

He swallowed the drink of beer he’d taken and let out a raucous laugh. “I wish it did. But I’m an honest man, Steel.”

“Keep it,” I said. “I appreciate your time, Bob. If you remember anything, please call me.”

“I sure wish I did, because I could handle a few more Franklins thrown my way. I’ll think on it, but at the moment I sure as hell don’t remember much. I spent a lot of those early years stoned.”

I was pretty sure he was stoned now, considering how he was inhaling those onion rings.

I sent another hundred his way as I finished my second Jameson. “To jog your memory a bit.”

Bob fingered the Benji and laughed. “I’ll do my best. Stop by my shop anytime if you change your mind about the tat. I’ll be happy to hook you up.”

I chuckled. “Not in this lifetime.”

“How’d you come across that tat anyway? Just looking through Toby’s books? That doesn’t make a lot of sense if you had no interest in getting tatted yourself.”

“It’s a tattoo my—” The word “girlfriend” sat on the edge of my lips, threatening to eject itself of its own volition. But Jade wasn’t my girlfriend. And if I was honest, girlfriend didn’t begin to describe what Jade was to me. She was so much more…my everything, my soul. I cleared my throat. “A friend had. Or was going to get. She won’t be getting it now.”

“Why not? Great tat for a chick. Makes a nice tramp stamp on the back. I remember doing a lot of those.”

“She won’t be getting this one. Or any tat if I have anything to say about it.”

“What do you got against tats, boy?”

Invisible spiders crept up my neck and onto my scalp. My ire rose. “Don’t call me boy.”

“Hey, meant no disrespect. But seriously, why don’t you like tats?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Why are you so interested in that particular tat? Or should I say, why are you so interested in the person who has that particular tat?”

I pulled one more Benji out of my wallet and slid it across the table and into Bob’s meaty hands. “Don’t ever ask me that again. Just contact me if you remember anything about who you tatted that on.”

“Will do.”

I threw a few more bills on the table. “This should cover the drinks and rings.”

“Obliged.” Bob gave me a salute, downing the rest of his Guinness.

I turned and walked out of the bar.

My whole body trembled, itching, wanting to convulse. I sat down on the bench outside an ice-cream shop a couple of doors down.

And a movie began playing in my mind.

 

Sometimes the bird emerged on the walls of the cellar, most often at night, when they were closing in on the boy. The bird had become both a menace and a sanctuary. It gave the boy solace, something to focus on when the unthinkable was happening, but because it was representative of one who inflicted the horrors on him, it was also a plague that haunted him at night, jeering at him.

You’re worthless, boy. Insignificant. Meaningless. Trash to be used, abused, left to die…

Its flaming wings now gray and white in the darkness, the bird flapped to him, edging toward him along with the pulsating wall.

Worthless… Insignificant… Left to die…

But as much as the boy wanted to die, he never did.

Chapter Sixteen

Jade

Please don’t dredge up the past, Jade. So many people will get hurt.

Wendy’s words haunted me as George dropped me off at the Steel ranch house. It was Saturday, so I didn’t have to go into work. I would tell Marj what I had found out about her birth certificate. I didn’t want to tell her, yet, about Wendy Madigan and the affair with her father, but she deserved to know about her name.

I paid George. Seemed like all my extra cash was being used to shuttle me back and forth from the ranch. I had to get a car.

I trudged up the long walkway and knocked on the door. Roger, Talon’s mutt, appeared behind the glass. He looked at me, cocking his head through the oblong window next to the door. He was such a cute little fellow.

A few seconds later, the door opened, and Talon’s muscular frame greeted me.

My body throbbed. Just being in close proximity to him affected me. As much as I wanted to interrogate him about the tattoo ordeal the other night, I knew it would be futile. I said simply, “Hi. I came to see Marj.”

“She’s not here. Cooking class, remember?”

Crap. I’d forgotten. Marj had signed up for a weekend cooking class in Grand Junction that met Friday night and all day Saturday.

“I’m really sorry. I forgot about that.”

“You want me to give her a message for you?”

I looked at him, shaking my head. Was he really going to stand there and pretend we didn’t know each other intimately?

Roger panted at my heels. I bent down to give him a scratch on the head.

“No, no message. But I will take a cup of tea if you have one.”

“Here’s a deal for you. I’ll make the tea if you make up a couple of your patented cheddar and tomato grilled cheese sandwiches.”

I couldn’t help a smile. “I’ll take that deal.”

I walked into the foyer as he shut the door behind me. I knelt down and let Roger jump up on me. He covered my face with doggie kisses.

“Funny. Other than me, you’re the one he’s taken to the most.”

“I love dogs. I’ve never met a dog that didn’t love me back. I think dogs just sense dog people.”

The late summer day was cooler, and I’d put on a pair of skinny jeans and a sleeveless pink sweater. Talon looked luscious in his boots, dark denim jeans, and a green T-shirt.

“I’ll get started.” I made my way to the kitchen and looked through the fridge. “I don’t see any cheddar in here, but there’s some Colby Jack. That’ll be good.”