Page 54 of Shattered Echoes

Unable to contain my grin, I shrug one shoulder in a casual admission of guilt. A delighted chuckle rumbles from deep within Antonio's chest as he shakes his head almost reverently. "I should have known. Christ, the raw emotion and talent in those pieces is incredible, Col."

My cheeks warm with a pleased flush at his earnest praise. Somehow, hearing Antonio's admiration for my secret pastime makes all the difference in the world. Around him, I don't feel the need to justify or explain myself–he accepts me as I am.

"It started out as a bit of a coping mechanism during my recovery," I explain, retrieving a slender brush to turn over in my hands. "Group therapy was fine, but art has always been how I process my deepest feelings. Getting to take blank walls and turn them into catalysts for emotion was…freeing."

He crouches beside me, forearms resting on his bent knees as he studies a detail near the bottom of the wall. "Hell of a medium you chose, Col. Kinda dangerous with the cops looking to bust the local vandal, yeah?"

"Maybe," I allow with a rueful curl of my lips. "But the risk is worth it for the release. This..." I gesture at the exposed brick wall before us. "This is how I funnel all the rage and darkness trying to consume me. Every stroke, every splatter–it's an exorcism of sorts."

“Lucky you,” he says, pushing back to his feet. “If only I had it this easy with my music. I want to understand your thought process behind each mural.”

A thought occurs to me. “Why don’t you try? Shadow’s Bend may be a ghost of a town, but we have a wealth of abandoned buildings waiting to be used as a canvas. It would be nice for you to express your feelings. Just get it out there, paint what you feel.”

He looks hesitant but also intrigued. “I don’t know, Col. I don’t know the next thing about painting.”

“Sure, sure.” I hand him a canister. “Art is subjective. Do whatever feels right and don’t forget to shake it before you start.”

He accepts the canister with a grin and shakes it. “You always surprise me, don’t you? When I think I have you all figured out, I find another layer I never knew about. You’re remarkable, Col.”

I grin and take a step back, warmth filling my chest at how well he’s taking this. I had so many reservations about telling him all about this, but now I know I made the right decision.

Antonio begins painting, his brow furrowed in concentration. He wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t any good, but I love the fact that he’s expressing himself. There are a ton of dark colors, which doesn’t surprise me, as I know that Antonio also has demons he’s fighting.

“There’s something that’s been on my mind for a while,” I whisper after a long moment of silence.

“Yeah? What’s that?” he replies without taking his eyes off the wall.

“I hate the way I left things with Henry,” I say. “What he did fucking sucks, but I’ve been thinking… Can I blame him? If what he says is true, my dad was the one who refused to make him the heir, although Henry had done everything to earn it. Maybe he crossed a line, but a part of me remembers my kind brother. I don’t think he knew just how much of a bastard my ex was. It still hurts, but I want to forgive him for it, and let it go.”

Antonio nods. For a few minutes, the only sound was that of the spray paint leaving the canisters as he works. On second thought, it doesn’t look so bad for a first attempt. I doubt it would be mistaken for one of mine, but it’s still pretty good.

“I think you’re amazing, Col,” he says in a soft voice. “It says so much about you that you’re willing to consider this, and I know Henry is dying from the guilt of his actions. However, this is a decision you must make on your own. My only job right now is to support you and whatever you decide. I do trust you will make the right choice, though.”

I wrap my arms around him from behind, enjoying how solid he feels. He has a way of always saying the right thing. It’s such a gift. “Thank you. I don’t know how I would have gotten through all this without you.”

He steps back from his work and smiles. “I think you would have gotten by just fine. I felt that there’s nothing you can’t get through in this world.”

“You’re too sweet for me.”

“Sucks to be you, then. I have no intention of stopping.” He gestures at the wall. “What do you think?”

I grin. “I think the sheriff is going to lose his shit when he finds out there isn’t just one, but two vandals running loose in his town. I think it looks remarkable, though.”

He grabs my arm and pulls me forward, wrapping his arms around me. I make a startled yelp as he presses me tight against him, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. I melt against his embrace, giving myself to the moment…and to him.

18

Antonio

The heady scent of drying paint intermingles with Colette's warm, earthy fragrance as she arches against me. Our mouths fused in a desperate kiss.

Her back presses into the crumbling bricks layered with vibrant, emotive brushstrokes. Vivid streaks of color now stain her bare skin like some exotic ritual.

I growl deep in my throat as I surge against her, pinning her slender form with the heavy weight of my body. Colette whimpers shamelessly, raking her nails over the bunched muscles of my shoulders as her legs tangle around my waist.

She tastes like freedom, like release. Colette is the missing anchor I've been so desperately reaching for amid my self-destructive spiral. And in this moment, with our bodies joined, each ragged breath shared and exchanged, I've never felt more deliriously alive.

My hands roam the soft planes of her body with an almost fevered sense of worship, committing every delicious curve and hollow to memory through the frenzied glide of my palms. Colette is my redemption, my north star, the thing that makes my chest ache with agonizing bliss. I want, need, to lose myself in her welcoming heat, her passionate abandon. To burn and be remade anew under the scorching lash of her desire.

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