Page 7 of Dare To Live

I leave the elevator and head across to the main doors of the building, not waiting for Grace.

“Miss Gray, these just arrived for you,” one of the receptionists calls out as I pass.

Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I divert my path to the desk. Everything inside me turns to ice when I see the bouquet of white lilies wrapped in black paper. She lifts them up in her arms.

No. No. Not again. Why has he sent them to my workplace? How does he know where I work? Why can’t he leave me alone?

An image of white lilies surrounding me, as my screams echo off the stone walls, flashes through my head.

“Oh wow,” Grace breathes beside me. “They’re beautiful. Who are they from?”

The receptionist smiles. “There’s no note. You must have a mystery admirer! I wish someone would send me flowers.”

It’s hard to tear my gaze away from them, but I do, swallowing hard as uneasiness worms its way through me. “You can have them. I hate lilies.”

The other woman’s eyes widen. “What? Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Before she can say anymore, I walk away, my heels tapping on the marble floor.

Grace hurries after me. “I guess you’re not big into flowers, then?”

“No.” My voice is clipped, as I push through the door, and step outside into the warm L.A. winter.

Chapter 4

Eli

I step back from the easel and stare at the painting. The monster is clawing its way out of the abyss, its eyes feral and saliva dripping from its gaping maw. But there is something off about the image, and I can’t figure out what is wrong.

My monster series is highly sought after, with every painting I showcase snapped up as soon as it goes on sale. I guess it speaks to the darkness that lurks inside people. My gaze moves over the lines, looking for the problem but I can’t see it. I just know it’s not right.

Maybe I should take a break and come back to it. The sun has set. I’ve been locked away in here since breakfast. I’ll clear up and step away for the night, then look at it with fresh eyes in the morning.

As I turn to leave, my gaze falls onto the small marble sculpture sitting in the corner. The dust sheet that keeps it hidden from my sight has slipped, revealing part of it. I finished it over a year ago and my intention had been to add it to the rest of the private display I sent out with any event. It contains a set of paintings, sketches and sculptures from my childhood, and I get offers to buy them every single time. I don’t know why I send them; I’m never going to sell them.

“It’s your fault,” I tell the boy in the painting beside the door. “You just want to be the center of attention everywhere and this is your only way to accomplish it now.”

He grins back at me.

The painting is of him and three others. He’s sitting high up on the bleachers. A few rows in front of him and lower down, a girl and boy are sitting together. Her head is resting on the boy’s shoulder, and his arm is draped across her shoulders. A scrunched-up piece of paper is sailing through the air, on course to hit the boy’s head, while the one sitting alone laughs. On the far edge of the frame, a fourth boy stands with his back to the viewer. His head is turned slightly, looking at the girl.

I sigh. “I miss you, Kell. It should have been me.”

I tidy everything away, then walk over to the sculpture. My fingers brush over the bare shoulder, the arch of her neck, and hover over the blindfold covering her eyes. I hesitate, then shake my head and pull the dust sheet back into place, switch off the light and lock up the studio.

I take a few minutes to walk around the back of the cabin and check on the generators and water supply. The temperature has dropped since this morning and I’m pretty sure more snow is on the way. I’m not concerned, though. I have enough supplies to last me for three months if I do get snowed in. It just means I won’t get any new art to the showcase in January. Not that I care. It’s not like I need the money.

Once I’m back inside the cabin, I heat up something for dinner, then stretch out on the couch. Music plays softly through the sound system, and I doze off, only to be awakened by my cell’s ringtone sometime later.

“What?”

“That’s a lovely way to greet your stepmother.”

“Twice in a week, Ellie? That’s special, even for you. What’s wrong now?”

“Oh, someone’s feeling irritable today. Nothing is wrong. I just heard that there’s a blizzard heading your way and I wanted to check in with you.”

“I’m twenty-eight years old. You need to stop worrying about me. I’m a big boy, Mom.”

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