Seductive Secrecy (Shadows series) (8 page)

Mostly, that you’re forgiving.

That’s what I want for you. That’s what I’ve wanted since you came into my life. I’ll never stop trying for that, for you and for me.

Be good to yourself. The account is there if you need it. I know you haven’t, and you likely won’t, but don’t be afraid to use it to spoil yourself.

-D

***

I folded the letter into fourths and placed in my purse, crossing my arms over my stomach and taking deep breaths of the cold air. I was never sure how I was supposed to feel after reading one of his notes. He was the only family I had left; everyone else was dead. And even he had left, just as soon as he’d come into my life.

Everyone leaves, Charlie. You know that. My life proved that to you
.

Lilly’s voice once again repeated her favorite statement and faded. Her words were true, if only for her. In her life, everyone had left…and that was what had kept me from getting close to the men in my life. I’d left them before they had a chance to leave me; I’d hurt
them before they could wreck me. But that wasn’t what had
happened with my father. He didn’t leave because he had wanted to; he left
because I made him turn over all the evidence he had about the
mansion to the authorities. He did it for me, not for him. And it wasn’t the only proof I had that he cared for me, or that he truly considered me his family. Once I’d learned the truth of who he really was, he never referred to himself as the Doctor again, or as Marvin, his real name. I believed the
D
he signed his letters with was a stand-in for
Dad
.

I didn’t think he was ready to say it, or refer to himself in that way. But I knew he was feeling it on some level.

And he was really starting to sound like one, too. In every
message
he sent me, he asked about school and art and Cameron—never
getting too specific, but always showing enough concern that I knew what he was insinuating. I never had the feeling he was making small talk on the page; I felt as if he really wanted to know those answers. Most
importantly among them, he wanted to know if I had found
forgiveness. That was something we had often discussed while I’d worked at the
mansion. He wanted me to forgive Lilly after she died, which I
did… eventually. But this time I believed his plea referred to the mansion. He wanted me to forgive myself for my decision to work there, for what I had done with all those men. He wondered if I’d been able to find peace and move to a place of sincere happiness.

I thought about his other request:
Be good to yourself. The account is there if you need it.

He had set up a private bank account, in my name. It wasn’t easily accessed. One of his attorneys had given me the information
after he’d left the country. When I saw the size of the account
balance, I closed the screen on my computer. I’d never checked it again. The amount made me uncomfortable; it made me feel like I was still attached to the mansion…wasn’t that where his money had really been earned? He’d been a successful doctor prior to his employment at that house, but his kind of wealth didn’t come from any private practice. It came from the evil that took place behind those shadowy walls. We’d never discussed it, but I knew it was the reason he’d
hidden the funds overseas. All of the money he’d kept in his
domestic accounts had been seized during the take-down. The investigation was ongoing; those funds wouldn’t be released until a conclusion had been reached. The money he’d given me had been deposited in an offshore account. I didn’t know how many of those he had…and I was sure I didn’t want to.

When I told the attorney that I was worried my father was trying to buy me off, he assured me that wasn’t the case. He said he was sincerely trying to make my life easier, to make up for the years he hadn’t known he was my father. Had he known about me then, he would have made sure I hadn’t been raised in poverty. He was trying to spoil me the only way he was able to, but from afar.

I appreciated his intentions. But it didn’t make the handout any easier to accept.

I told Cameron about the account. I didn’t think there was a need to hide it from him, and I confided in him that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to touch it. His reaction wasn’t what I’d expected. Rather than telling me what I should do with the money, he agreed with my reasoning and reminded me that it would be there should I ever need it. He never asked how much money there was, and he certainly didn’t want any of it.

It made me trust him even more.

The cold air finally started seeping through my jacket and my nose began to run. I removed the notebook from my bag and took out a pen. From the bench next to the train station I glanced down the street, using the life of the city to inspire my words. It didn’t take long before the ink flowed effortlessly onto the page.

***

It’s supposed to be spring
isn’t that what April is? The start of
freshness, the rising of small, green buds, the endless pouring of rain, and the crisp flow of flowered air throughout the city? Not this year. It snowed yesterday, and the day before. As I write this, my skin is reddening from the
frigid wind, and my hands are shaking from the chill shuddering through
me.

I hope that wherever you are, it’s warm and beautiful. I hope the sun is stronger there than it is here, and that you’re feeling its soothing rays on your face.

I hope you’re smiling.

Though they may not be the brightest, I hope the stars still sparkle and shine around you. It’s been a while since I looked at the night sky. I used to steal a glimpse of it during my run from the limo to the entryway of the mansion. It seems that was the last time I really paid attention to their stunning light.

Maybe I should change that.

Maybe I should gaze at the sky more often. Maybe I should enjoy the night air instead of sheltering myself from it. Rather than letting the never-ending blackness overwhelm me, maybe I should appreciate it for what it is: a background for the brilliance of stars. After all, without darkness, there cannot be light.

Cameron makes me laugh.

School gives me a sense of normalcy.

Art allows me to breathe.

And these letters…they remind me that there’s someone out there who shares something with me.

Something greater than the shadows I’ve let myself live in.

-C

I WAS ADDING THE FINISHING STROKES
to the piece I’d
created for Gareth. I stood in front of my easel with globs of lamp black,
titanium white and several different mixtures of silvers and grays
filling my palette, carefully considering the subject I was painting.
The Sub
was unique, unlike anything I’d ever designed before. It was as
though I had painted directly from a model, the image as sharp and
focused as a photograph. Despite the last few pieces bearing a
resemblance to me, this one looked nothing like me whatsoever. She was edgy and mischievous, with a black leather corset that covered her breasts and cinched her tiny waist; her matching thigh-high boots started in spiked heels and crawled all the way up her legs. The makeup she
wore was thick and dark, like ebony. It lined her lids, coated her
long lashes and glossed her plump lips.

Gareth wanted submissive, so I’d taken away her eye contact.
Her stare was directed off the side of the canvas. I imagined her
breathing being restricted from the leather that so tightly cuffed her
waist. I tried to portray that in her face. She wouldn’t open her
mouth unless she was ordered to do so, but her body and her posture made a loud enough statement. She was too raw to take to one of his business dinners, too naughty to meet his parents. She was the type who licked her lips after she swallowed.

She was exactly what Gareth had asked for.

Cameron caught my attention as he was painting on the other side of the room. The intensity of his gaze bore into me and caused a warmth to flicker in me and spread throughout my body.

He hadn’t always been a presence in the room while I was
creating.

When we had first been partnered up in class, I refused to work
in front of him; he was too talented. I had a love for painting, an
obsession with it, but I was too much of a novice and lacked the
confidence to allow him to observe. As I started to get more
comfortable with him, I shed the fear and eventually found the experience to be
somewhat erotic. Knowing how eager
The Sub
was and how she
wanted to please, I couldn’t help but feel the same want build inside me now. As she looked at her master standing beyond, his eyes reflected in hers. It gave me an idea.

I walked to the back of the room where the acrylics were stored and squirted a small stream of calypso blue onto my palette, mixing it with white as I returned to my easel. I had intended on keeping the entire piece black, white and silver, allowing Gareth’s designer to choose the accent color that would make his apartment pop. It was the centerpiece of his decor and would set the tone of the whole place. But I was too inspired by the man who dominated
my
body to leave it at that.

Loading my brush with baby blue, I touched my bristles to the canvas again. I stayed within the fine lines of her eyes, giving her irises a color that demanded attention. Every few seconds, my vision drifted from the canvas and met Cameron’s stare. Then I floated right back to my work. I wanted the same thing as
The Sub
; my desires were equally pressing. The difference was that I looked mine in the face. She had to satisfy her master in order to get pleasure.

I didn’t even call mine
master
. I didn’t have to.

Cameron got pleasure hearing his name come from my lips, and in pleasing
me.

Halfway through finishing her eyes, my hand stopped moving, and my fingers squeezed the brush against my palm. Something felt…wrong.
The Sub
didn’t deserve Cameron’s eye color. She hadn’t earned it; she hadn’t sacrificed enough. She needed to lose her vision completely and feel the pain that came with finding out the truth, the truth of her decisions.

The truth of fucking her best friend’s father.

She needed to suffer for all of this before she could ever hope to receive such an honor.

I dropped the brush and picked up the one I had used
previously, one that was already filled with ebony, and I drew a mask over her face. It had scalloped edges that covered her forehead, rounding the
bridge of her nose. The straps were tucked into her hair. There
weren’t slits for her eyes; this one was a total blackout.

She was blinded by sex.

Visiting the table of acrylics one final time, I poured a small amount of cherry red onto my palette. When I mixed it with the black that was still damp on her mouth, her lips turned to burgundy. Not quite the pop of the icy blue that her eyes would have held, but still…they drew the viewer in. I finished up and placed my tools on the table nearby, then backed up several feet from the picture to take in its entire meaning.

I heard Cameron walking toward me, and saw him from the
corner
of my eye. I felt the air move, and the spot between my legs
dampened. But I didn’t glance at him as he got closer or turn around when he
came up behind me. I was unable to pull myself away from the
painting. I crossed my arms over his where they had landed on my navel and leaned my back into his chest.

“Gareth’s piece?” he asked.

I nodded.

He’d never met Gareth. But we talked about our clients enough and their pieces that we were able to call them by name. They became synonymous with the pieces we created for them.

“Crimson was a good choice. It’s masculine…and it’s sexy as hell.” I had told him about Gareth’s request, how the hue I chose was
going to serve as the accent color for his entire apartment.
“Dominating, even.” He brushed his lip over the tip of my ear, sending sparks through it.

“And the piece itself?” My hands dropped from his arms as he began to gently caress the width of my stomach with his fingertips. I knew it was just a tender embrace, a spot on my body that he enjoyed tracing. Still, I couldn’t stop the tingles that pulsed in my lower half. He produced them; his touch demanded them. He was just that powerful.

“It’s erotic.” He had skipped my lobe before, but now his lips found it and enveloped it with his hot mouth. “It’s arousing. I’m
just…”