Page 33 of Possession

“Will you be here tomorrow night, too?” I asked as I opened the driver side door of my car.

“Will you?” He held the door for me as I sat down. I wanted to look up at him one last time, but my heart thundered, and the butterflies swirled and fluttered. “I’ve booked the week, I think that’s enough time for you to find your inspiration again.”

I couldn’t be sure, but I almost heard humor in his words and, as I lifted my chin and let my gaze search his, there was a hint of a smile in the creases around his eyes. I leaned back and decided what I would paint tomorrow. I’d paint his eyes, just as he’d painted mine. But instead of the winter, I’d surround him in the spring, in the bright light of the sun and vibrant greens of summer grass. I’d paint him as a starburst, as something to worship, because I’d only known one deity and he’d left me to fend for myself.

“I think I’ll be ready tomorrow.” My statement held so many meanings and truths, but as I offered him a small smile and his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously, it was clear we had a long journey ahead of us.

He nodded, edgy again, as he started to close the car door. “I’ll be here around eleven.”

He shut the door before I could answer, and I turned the key in the ignition as I watched him walk away. I closed my eyes and offered up a thank you in hopes someone was listening. I prayed that this was just a beginning. That the path we would forge from here on out could heal us both. And I prayed to be lucky, because I didn’t deserve anything better than just a chance, but I prayed that maybe Declan could love me again. It was selfish to wish for such light to be wasted on a lost soul, but I kept my eyes shut tight and prayed for it anyway.

My eyes were tired, my mind—fuzzy as the machines hummed in unison, and the white noise of it lifted above the clamor inside the shop. I hadn’t slept well last night, and it was almost closing time. Today had been a long one, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Paige might be waiting for me at The Gallery later, I’d go home and crash.

You can watch her bleed.

You liked it.

The muscle in my jaw stretched and pulsed as last night’s nightmare flickered in my twisted brain again. I’d been forced to watch Paige die over and over in my head all damn day. In the dream she’d been naked, laid out on my bed, silent and still. Her light blonde hair, feather soft, spilled in fluid torrents on my pillow—the strands shadowed her face. It felt so real, seeing her like that again. It’d been too long and I’d wanted her, I’d been able to feel the heat in my stomach, the flash of need in my veins as I’d approached her. I’d moved toward her, my mind filled with the thoughts I’d suppressed for years, thoughts about her body and how it had felt to be inside her. She was just for me, just like always.

As I got closer, I could see her more clearly. She looked too frail, too thin and before I’d been able to reach her, feed her with feeling, fatten her flesh with my touch, breathe life into her frozen lips with my breath, her ribs had begun to break and puncture through her transparent skin. The gore of it, bright red, had been too surreal to look away, and I’d been shocked still into watching her bleed out onto my sheets. Liam had shaken me awake. Saved me from the horror. I’d been screaming, he’d said. I had woken up covered in sweat, and my fingers burned as if I’d been clenching my hands into fists as I’d slept. I’d told him everything about seeing her last night, about the dream, about her apology, and he’d listened with weary eyes.

“Declan, come look at this shit.” Kemper’s loud voice did little to ease my thoughts.

I flicked my gaze to his station, his client, who I wagered was probably younger than her ID had said, was lying on her back holding her bare breasts. As I stood I made an attempt to push the nightmare aside. Seeing Paige last night in the studio, having her cheek against my chest, that was real, and I didn’t want to admit how much I had wanted it. She’d looked as if she was falling apart and, despite my fears, my need to hear her say she was sorry, I’d wanted to help her, feed her, and get her talking. It hurt too much to see her cower before me, like she wasn’t worthy of my presence. Shit, I wasn’t worthy of hers. I shook my head. We’d both had enough pain, we’d both done wrong, and I wanted to talk to her, see what had changed, why she’d chosen to come there… why now?

The girl smiled at me as I walked over to Kemper’s station. “What am I looking at?” She had a complex looking web of stenciled flowers that bordered the bottom curve of each breast. It was beautiful.

“What do you think?” Kemper eyed me before lowering his gaze to his work and I smirked. He was new to Avenues and he always doubted himself.

“It’s amazing,” I said, and the girl’s smile split into dimples. Definitely too young.

Liam approached us and his smile died as he looked at the girl, his lips in a firm line. “How old are you?”

The girl’s voice was saccharine. “Eighteen.”

“Yeah?” Liam looked at Kemper and scowled.

“Hey, man, I checked her ID.” Kemper’s face paled.

“I bet you did.” Liam let his eyes linger along the girl’s body. “Always thinking with your dick. After today, find another place to get your ink, little girl.” Liam lifted his chin at me and I followed him, giving Kemper a smirk. He mumbled something under his breath, and the girl’s smile was nowhere to be seen.

“Way too young,” Liam grumbled as we walked to my station. “We’re all headed to that the new pub on Broadway after closing. Kemper said it’s badass but Kieran doesn’t want to go.”

“Mom been alone all day?” I asked.

He nodded, and his chest rose and fell heavily with the burden of being the oldest son. His words were tight as he exhaled. “Yeah, Mrs. Detwiler’s daughter hasn’t been stopping by as much anymore now that she’s got classes.”

Our mother wasn’t sick with an illness, she was sick with age, sick with life, sick from being married to an alcoholic. She only knew that house, with its stained walls, us boys, her need to make sure we were okay and raised right, despite the circumstances. She was lucky to have her faith, and the new priest, Father Becker, was good to her. He’d found Kieran some help, someone to keep Mom company when we couldn’t. She was so used to waiting on others and now, her legs were too weak, her mind was going, and it was our turn to help her.

“I can check on her so Kieran can go out, too,” I offered, and he shook his head.

“He’s not into it tonight, you should come, let him take care of Mom. We’ve been doing it for years.” His smile was for my benefit, halfcocked and hiding his true feelings.

Liam has had to take care of me just as much as her.

“Nah, you guys have fun, I’m almost finished with the piece I’ve been working on… and I kind of already made plans.” My tone was even as I rubbed the back of my neck, but Liam narrowed his eyes as he sat on my work table.

“Withher.” The venom in his voice coated his lips.

---