A Forever Masterpiece (The Masterpiece Trilogy Book 3) (6 page)

"I don't want to take chances. We've got the security system on the house, but anywhere else? I want you safe."

Becca wanted to be safe, too, but wasn't this a little extreme? Thinking back to a few nights ago to the man with a gun in his hand, maybe not.

"You need to be safe, too," she said softly. wrapping her arm around Hunter's to clasp his hand, then leaned her head on his shoulder. "When we get home, I don't want to talk about what happened." Becca had been thinking about it, and even though she couldn't wrap her mind around what she'd done, it was over. It was self-defense, and she had to let it go. No way did she want to go back down the road she'd been recently.

"What do you mean?" Hunter asked, confused.

"I mean the attack. The man. Unless I need to answer questions to the police or someone, I just want to put this behind me."

"Bec-"

"I mean it, Hunter," she said firmly, a little louder than she'd intended. But she did mean it.

Neither had much else to say.

"If you need someone to talk to, I can help you through this. I have a few suggestions," Shara said to Becca hours after they'd arrived home. She and Becca were sitting on the couch in the living room. Hunter was about to grab a glass of water, but he wanted to know what Shara had in mind.

He faced the women. Shara leaned back. "I had a slightly similar situation when I was fifteen. I- I killed someone in self-defense."

Hunter opened his mouth to say something. Hell! He'd never known this. Shara told him many things, but she'd never gone into full detail about why she and her sister were removed from their father's home. Did her revelation have something to do with it?

Shara met Hunter's gaze. "I've never told anyone this outside of the caseworkers and therapists. I couldn't talk about it, not even to you."

Hunter crossed the room and sat beside Becca. He slid his arm around her. He'd known Shara for almost as long as he'd known Becca, and there were so many things he didn't actually know about his friend.

"All I want to say about it at the moment is that I protected my sister from someone. It ended badly. No matter how wrong the attacker was, I couldn't get his image out of my head for years. You need anything, at any time, call me, and I'll be right over."

"Thank you." Becca's voice was just above a whisper. "If you don't mind, I think I'm going to try and get a little rest." When she stood, Hunter did, too. He wrapped her in his arms, cradled her close to him, and kissed the top of her head.

When she ran up the stairs, Hunter watched her, totally at a loss for what to do.

"She's strong. We both know it, so she'll get through." Shara interrupted his thoughts.

"I know she is, no doubt, but even the strongest have their breaking point. This might sound weird, but I don't think she's processing everything. Becca barely cries or gets angry. Yes, she's done so recently, but I don't know ... I'd think she'd show a lot more."

Shara also stood. "Everyone works it in different ways. You know that."

"I just wonder where her tipping point is. I have a bad feeling. Can't really explain it more than that."

"You're worried she might end up with PTSD," Shara said softly.

Hell yeah he worried about that. Becca had experienced way too much trauma, especially recently. At least if anything happened, they would know how to deal with it right away, but still, Hunter continued to hope Becca never had to deal with it.

"Can't blame you, considering," Shara continued when he didn't talk.

"All I wanted to do was revisit my past. Who the hell would have imagined this outcome? She was so upset that night before the attack." Hunter raised his head at the sound of a door closing. It sounded like Becca closed herself off in the art room. "At one point she blamed herself. She said I lost everything because of her." It hurt just as much saying it now as it did for him to hear her say it that night.

"She has a lot to work through. Oh! I hate to have to tell you this, because it was supposed to be a surprise, but I'm not sure if either of you will be up for it..." Shara stuck a hand in her pocket and shuffled her feet.

"What?" He wasn't up for more surprises, but this one at least sounded like it could have been a good one.

"We had an engagement party planned for you two."

"Oh. Wow. I had no idea." That caught him off guard.

Shara socked his arm. "Duh! That's what it was supposed to be, but..."

"Don't change it." Hunter and Shara turned at the sound of Becca's voice. She stood at the landing of the stairs.

"Bec..." Hunter started.

"No. Please. I just want normal. I'm tired of not normal. I want to celebrate our upcoming marriage with people we love. Please?" she pleaded.

Normal. He'd longed for that for the longest time, too. If Becca was up for a celebration, then he'd go for it.

"Okay. Whatever you want." Shara nodded. "Sorry I had to ruin the surprise."

"You know, I'm tired of surprises anyway," Becca muttered, then headed back upstairs again.

"You have every right to be worried," Shara said after a long silence. "I recognize myself in her right now. Pushing for normal when there's no such thing in her head."

Hunter sure as heck didn't want to hear that, but hell, what was another hit when they'd already had so many? His spirits tanked, and he wondered what came next.

Chapter Four

"I didn't expect you to be in today." Dr. Velez followed Becca down the hall of the Lange Center the next day. "How are you?"

Becca stopped her brisk walking pace to face her coworker and friend. "Why not? I already missed more days than I should have." Her tone came out harsh, and she knew it. Dr. Velez's eyes went wide, and she reeled back. "And I'm fine. Everyone keeps asking me that. What more can I say?"

"Becca, you-"

"Don't! Don't say it! I know what I did. Trust me, I know. But he-" She choked back a frustrated cry. "I have to move past it. I have to think positive." She had to stop snapping at everyone, too. "Liane, I'm sorry. I needed to come in. I can't sit around at home and let my thoughts swallow me whole."

"Fair enough." The woman nodded. Sympathy reflected in her eyes. "You just let me know if you need a break or anything, okay?"

"I will," Becca promised. "I didn't mean to snap. Everyone is hovering over me, and it's a little suffocating. I know you're all worried, but I'm going to be fine. I'm where I need to be. Home, and back to normal." She excused herself and went back to work.

For the rest of the day, no one hovered. Becca still noticed the curious looks and concerned whispers, but they all backed off. Becca clocked out, said good bye to everyone, and walked through the lobby when she passed by a man staring at one of her paintings on the wall. It was one Hunter had hung up years ago, or so he'd told her. Curious, she changed directions and walked toward the front desk, pretending to look for something. The man continued to study the painting. Why? Who was he? What was he thinking right about now?

Becca was so busy trying to figure out what the man's intentions were that she didn't realize how close she'd come to the corner of the desk. "Ow!" she yelled, startled. She clamped a hand over her mouth. Now she'd done it.

The man whirled around as Becca rubbed her leg. "Those pesky desks always get in the way, don't they?" He sent her a warm smile, his tone teasing. "Are you just as enthralled with this panting as I am?"

Well, that answered one of her million questions. Becca rubbed her sore leg and approached the man. She guessed him to be in his forties. He fixed a gaze on her, his brown eyes inquisitive. "You like it?"

"Like it? The painting intrigues me. I'd love to pick the artist's mind. I came out here to take a breather. The testing process to get in the program here is very hard to see sometimes. I've been looking at the paintings scattered on the walls. I can tell they're by one person. Whoever they are has a unique style. While each piece is different, there's one thing that links them together."

Becca's pulse raced, hearing a complete stranger give such high praise to her art, and he didn't even know they were hers.

"Ah, there you are! You're enjoying our resident artist, huh? We took a quick break." Liane approached the lobby.

The man stared at Becca in surprise. "You? You're the artist?"

"I am." Heat rushed to her face. This was strangely intimidating and awkward.

He held out his hand. "I'm Brock Wright. Very pleased to meet you."

"Becca Lange." She shook his hand. He held it a little longer than normal.

"Lange?" He glanced at the bulletin board which had the center's name on it, then back to Becca with curiosity.

"Becca's fiancé is one of the founders of the Lange Center. His inspirations are based on Becca," Liane boasted. "She's also working our fine arts program. We're very lucky to have her."

She flushed. How red were her cheeks right about now? Becca took a step back. "I'm lucky to be here."

"Wow. Who would have thought I'd be face to face with the artist? I'm one myself and have a gallery nearby. Becca, we should talk." He fished out a card from his wallet and handed it to her. "I should get back, but I'm serious. Please consider getting in touch with me. Your work would do well."

Her stomach knotted. Becca took the card from him, and she had to keep from screaming out loud in excitement. "Thank you. I will. Good luck with the program testing. It's a wonderful place. I need to get home, but it was nice to meet you. See you tomorrow, Liane." She waved and took off, but overheard a bit of the conversation as she left. "Talented. Inspirational." Were they still talking about her?

The card burned a hole in her pocket. This man seriously wanted her to call him! Did that mean he wanted to put her work in a gallery? Becca had a hard time focusing on the way home. She'd silently begged for normal for months, and especially in the past few days. Normal wasn't getting a major compliment from someone who appreciated art and owned a gallery, but hey, she'd take it. Much better than thinking about dead-

"No!" Becca scolded herself as she arrived home. "I won't let you get in my head." If she continued to think about it, she wouldn't be able to hold it in any more. Positive. Think positive. Think about the future. Hunter. Their wedding. Dreams.

Anything but what she couldn't control or change.

Hunter wasn't home yet, so Becca headed straight for her art studio, feeling inspired to create something.

When she stared at her work in progress, Becca realized her inner thoughts had found a way to the canvas in a very exploring, dark manner. She didn't know what to do with this particular piece. The mix of feeling like a replacement child and the fact that someone went to lengths to keep the truth hidden got to her far more than she realized.

Time to let this dry and then figure out what to do with it from there. No one else needed to see this.

Hunter rushed home, eager to get to Becca. Ever since Dr. Velez called him at lunch to express her concerns about Becca, he couldn't stop worrying. Becca acted like nothing was wrong. Maybe that was a good thing, but he doubted it. She went from her shell shocked state of mind in Maryland to calm and as if nothing happened when they returned home. Did she not process the attack? Was she trying to be strong again and hide her feelings? He wondered about her breaking point. She'd had so much thrown at her. Despite his attempts to let her know she didn't have to hold it in, Becca did it anyway, probably because old habits were hard to break.

"Becca?" he called when he walked inside. "I'm home!" The house was quiet. He'd probably find Becca in her favorite spot working on something new, so Hunter went straight for there first. Becca met him in the hallway. She had her long hair pinned up in a messy bun. He wrapped her in his arms.

"I have some big news for you," she said with excitement after they kissed.

"Oh? What's that? Why don't we figure something out for dinner and you tell me?"

"Dinner ... Oh wow. I got so lost in painting, I never even thought about it."

Hunter laughed. "We're way too alike. Come on. I'll whip up something quick. Tell me your news!" Becca followed him downstairs. He searched the pantry for something easy. Becca stood behind him.

"Well, just as I left work today, I met a man in the lobby as he stared at my painting."

"The one hanging over the bulletin board?" Hunter loved that one. He'd set it specifically there to catch people's eyes right away. He frowned at how empty the pantry shelves were. After being away for longer than expected, he'd forgotten that they needed to stock up on stuff. Well, damn. Guess they could go grab takeout. He was way too exhausted for a sit down dinner somewhere, but hunger pains hit. He needed something, whatever that would be.

"Yep. We struck up a conversation after I went a round about way to see what he was doing without actually asking. I bumped into the desk." She laughed. "So that grabbed his attention, and he said something about wanting to pick the artist's brain about the painting. Liane walked in and told him I was the artist. He's one himself, and he owns a gallery."

Hunter stopped searching the pantry and whirled around to face Becca. "Really? And?" Excitement ran through him. He had a feeling he knew how this story would end, but he waited for Becca to finish.

"He gave me his card and wants me to call him. I can't believe it!" Becca's eyes twinkled with amazement.

Ha! Yes! He pumped a fist in the air with triumph. "Told you! That's right, I'm pulling the I told you so card today." Hunter picked her up and twirled her all around the kitchen. She laughed and held on tight. "My soon-to-be wife is going to be a big star this year!"

"Now don't get so far ahead of yourself. He just wants to talk." Becca squealed while her feet were still in the air. Hunter set her down, still grinning like a fool.

"Yeah, he doesn't want to just talk, Becca. If he wants to pick the artist's brain, as you say, he wants to buy and showcase you. I've got a great feeling about this. Finally!" He thrust his fist in the air again.