Beneath These Lies (31 page)

I supposed I would find out.

I locked the door, set the alarm, and headed back home.

My Tesla wasn’t ideal for transporting artwork, but I fit three small pieces in the front seat. It had taken me nearly forty minutes to decide which ones to pick. I’d ended up selecting three that were similar in style to the one Yve and Lucas had bought. Which reminded me, I needed to honor my promise to notify them before I put these up for sale.

Trinity waited at the door, head ducked to stare at her phone, as I approached with the canvases.

“Would you mind giving me a hand?” I asked, happy to see her in the spot she’d waited for me so many times before. It was like the world was righting itself again.

Her head jerked up and she took in my full arms. Scurrying over, she lifted the paintings from my hold. I didn’t normally show up with an armful of canvases, so the confusion on her face was justified. Normally our pieces were shipped in or dropped off by the artist.

“What are these?”

She looked down at them as I reached into my purse for my keys.

“They’re new pieces I’m going to sell.”

“Who’s the artist?”

Here it was, my opening. I swallowed and gathered all the strains of confidence floating around inside me. “Me.”

I expected shock. Instead I got a big smile.

“It’s about time.”

“Excuse me?”

Finding my keys, I pushed one into the lock and opened the door before turning off the alarm.

Trinity followed me inside. “You forget how many times I’ve been to your house. It’s not like you lock the door to your studio.”

No, but I definitely kept it closed. Then again, she was a curious girl.

“So you went snooping?”

“I smelled paint thinner, and I’m an artist. What would you have done?”

Good point. I pulled open the drawer to my desk and dropped my purse inside.

“Where are we going to put them?” Trinity asked.

“I’m debating. I . . . kind of sold one of my pieces already as an anonymous artist, and the buyers asked to be notified if any other pieces by that particular artist came up for sale.”

“Guess I missed out on a lot while I was watching Netflix and stuffing my face with Cheetos.”

She left out the part about being scared to death and locked in a room. I’d texted her several times over the last couple of days to check in, but her responses had all been along the same lines.
I’m fine. I promise. No worse for wear. Actually, I’m lucky as hell it wasn’t worse, and I’m going to put it out of my mind
.

Clearly, Trinity didn’t want to talk about it. That I could understand. I didn’t ever want to talk about what had happened to me either after I’d spilled it all to the police, a rape counselor, and finally a psychologist. That had been enough.

I had the psychologist’s card in my desk, and I’d be giving it to Trinity before she left for the day, along with the knowledge that the bill would be on me for as long as she wanted to go.

She walked to the wall with the empty space. “They’d go nicely here, but you already planned that.”

I had, but now I couldn’t kick the idea that I should call Yve and offer them to her before I put them out. But it wasn’t like I was going to hang them on the wall and have a mad rush of customers after them. They’d probably gather dust for months before I gave up and took them home.

Then I remembered how quickly Yve and Lucas had snatched up the last one. My decision was made.

“Why don’t you put them up, and I’ll call Yve and let her know I’ve got more for her to see.”

Yve wasted no time in coming to the gallery. Dirty Dog was only a few blocks away, and she always had at least one employee manning the place with her.

When she walked in the door, the skirt of her retro kelly green dress swirling around her legs, her eyes tracked the walls and landed on the canvases before I could even say hello or point. She stood silently for long moments studying them, all depicting a dark-haired woman wrapped in a red silk sheet in three different poses. It was me, but no one would ever know because her face was turned away in each.

Yve didn’t turn to look at me when she spoke. “She’s beautiful. They’re beautiful. Lucas’s birthday is coming up, and I have to have them. The one we already purchased is amazing, but lonely. These will look perfect with her, and I can’t wait to surprise him.”

The words wrapped around my artist’s soul like a balm. She’d said them without knowing it was me, but I had to tell her. I couldn’t keep this a secret.

“I’ll take them all,” she said, her eyes still fixed on the wall where they hung.

And then I remembered one little detail. “Don’t you want to know the price?”

Yve finally turned to me. “You looking to gouge me after the last one?”

“Of course not. I just thought you might want a price before you said yes.”

“Nope. You’re not going to charge me enough regardless.”

I thought quickly and named a price that was near what Lucas had insisted on paying for the last one—multiplied by three.

Yve nodded. “Can I take them now?”

Wow.

“If you want. I can wrap them for you. Or crate them if you’d prefer.”

She considered. “Wrapping them is fine. I’m not going far. I’ve got my car at Dirty Dog, so I can put them right in it. I can’t wait to see the look on his face. You saved me a hell of a lot of trouble because I had no idea what to get the man who has everything for his birthday.”

I thought Lucas might agree with that sentiment, because now he did seem to have everything—he had Yve.

“Then I’ll ring you up and you can get back to work.”

Yve turned her shrewd gaze on me. “Are you going to tell me who the artist is?”

“Does it matter?”

Another shake of her head. “Not at all, but for future reference, I’d like to know.”

“You’re not going to find her work anywhere other than here.”

“Exclusive?”

“Something like that.” With a deep breath, I took the plunge. “I painted them.”

I had no idea what kind of reaction I would get, but Yve’s wide, brilliant smile was a perfect one.

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

“No. Not kidding.”

“That just makes it even better.” Yve’s excitement colored her tone. “I have
your
artwork on my wall and I didn’t even know it. That makes me so damn happy, I can’t even tell you.” She strode toward me and I found myself on the receiving end of an unexpected hug.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

She pulled back and looked me in the eye. “Now, tell me why your walls aren’t covered in your work and why you’re not advertising it as your own.”

“I wasn’t ready yet. This was a big move for me. You and Trinity and one other are the sum total of the people I’ve told.”

“One other . . . the mystery man, am I right?”

Hesitantly, I nodded before explaining that he’d pushed me into it by moving the painting she’d purchased from my house to my gallery without me being aware.

“No wonder you were so damn shocked.”

“It wasn’t exactly what I expected to see here.”

“I like him on principle. He goes after what he wants, pushes you to succeed. Those are both pros in my book.”

He didn’t take no for an answer. He routinely broke into my house against my wishes until he’d worked himself into my life such that I couldn’t go five minutes without him crossing my mind.

What would Yve say if she really knew who he was?

The words were on the tip of my tongue to ask her when I swiped her credit card. But I couldn’t get them out.

Yve wasn’t done with the subject either. “You ever going to tell us who this guy is?”

I worried my lower lip. “He’s not someone my parents will ever approve of.”

Yve shrugged. “Does that matter?”

“Not exactly, but I’m just saying that as a way to . . . I don’t know, Yve. He’s not someone I should probably even know.”

Her eyebrows went up, and her interest was well and truly caught. “But you can’t stay away . . . Now this sounds like an even better story than I thought.”

The door opened and I looked away, expecting a customer to save me from this discussion, but it was Trinity returning with the coffee she’d just had to have. No rescue from that quarter. And Yve thought one step faster than me.

“So, how hot is this guy Valentina can’t keep her hands off of?”

Trinity paused with her coffee partway to her mouth and answered before I could intervene. “Rix? He’s hot. Like
dayum, thank the day his mama was born
hot.”

My stomach twisted as soon as she said his name.

Yve’s gaze swung from Trinity to me. The cat was officially out of the bag. “Rix? Not the Rix who put some serious interest into Elle when she started working for Lord at Chains? Not the gangbanger Rix.”

I cringed at her description of him. First, because I didn’t know he’d put any kind of interest into Elle, let alone
serious
interest. And second, I
hated
the word gangbanger. It didn’t apply to him. Right?

When I didn’t immediately respond, Yve’s eyes widened further and her mouth hung open. “No. Freaking. Way. I don’t believe it.”

Trinity, realizing she’d let the cat out of the bag, whispered, “Sorry. I thought she knew.”

And that just confirmed it.

“Holy. Shit. I hate sayin’ shit like
I can’t even,
but right now—I can’t even.” Yve lifted a hand to her mouth and shook her head.

I’d never seen her look so stunned. But if I’d just been told what she’d been told . . . I would probably look like a gaping fish out of water too.

“Wow, girl. You’ve definitely been holding out on us. Hard core.”

I wasn’t even sure what I should say, but I knew I needed privacy to say it. “Trinity, could you give us a few minutes? Maybe go grab a beignet to go with that coffee?”

She nodded and shot me a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry. I thought—”

“It’s okay, hon. Don’t worry about a thing. It was all going to come out eventually.”

Yve cocked a hip. “Damn right it was going to come out. It should’ve come out already.”

Trinity slipped out the door, and I walked around my desk and sank into my chair.

“I have no idea what I’m doing. None. Maybe less than none.”

Yve took one of the slim, modern chairs I had for clients and dropped her big purple purse on the other. “I’m getting that. How did it even start?”

I nodded toward the door Trinity had left through. “Trinity.”

Then I told her an abbreviated version of the story, complete with the role Rix and Rhett had played in it. When I was done, Yve’s mouth gaped even further than before.

“Damn. When you got back in the game, you got back in the game
hard
.”

“More like clueless.”

“Do you love him?” she asked. “Because at the end of the day, if you love the guy
and
you’re willing to do whatever it takes to be with him, you’re going to be fine. But if either of those two pieces are missing, you should run like hell now . . . that is, if he’d even let you run at this point. From what I’ve heard about him, when he finds a woman, he
owns
them.
Claims
them. He’s got quite the reputation, from what I hear.”

I didn’t want to hear about his reputation or how he’d been with other women, regardless of whether there was any truth to it. He’d never minced words with me. Actually, his favorite word did seem to be
mine.
So maybe his reputation was accurate and well deserved.

Doesn’t matter
.

“He makes me feel safe. Alive. Basically, he just makes me
feel
when I thought I’d never feel anything again.”

Yve’s smile was understanding. She’d been through hell too, although hers had lasted much longer than mine. “I know what you mean. Even if all you feel is the urge to punch him in the throat, feeling
something
is better than feeling nothing.”

“Exactly. I thought I was broken, but he opened my eyes. I was waiting for something to force me to start living again. He may be one of the bad guys, but he’s a good man. And he’s mine.”

“Sounds like you’re just as possessive as he is.”

“Maybe I am,” I said.

Rix was mine. I was his. We would figure this out. Any other alternative was completely unacceptable.