Page 40 of Isle of Pain

The responsibility has me breaking away from him. We’re both breathing hard, and his eyes have a shine to them I’ve never seen. He’s breath-taking. I could look into them forever. But I don’t get to keep anyone.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“I’ll never lie to you, Marie. It was a lot.” He swallows, then frowns. “I think I need to walk for a bit.”

My heart breaks a little, and my shoulders sag. They shouldn’t. It was only a kiss, it doesn’t mean anything.

I nod and move to step back but his hands clasp on my thighs above my jeans. “I’ve never kissed anyone before, Marie. It was… incredible. I’m not good with words but I want you to know it was everything I could have wished for. But now, I’m starting to itch and I need to… expel the energy, I guess. I’m also incredibly turned on and that usually only happens when I get physically hurt, and I don’t think I want to take it further right now.”

“That’s okay,” I tell him, putting a chirp to my tone that rings false even to my own ears. I have two miniatures left in my suitcase and they would be perfect right now to swallow the shame and rejection I feel. “What do you need from me?”

After a featherlight touch to my lips again, Nico braces his forehead against mine. “I need you to believe me when I say that I’ll be back for you. I just need time to process.”

“Of course.” I stand on wobbly legs, running my sweaty palms against my legs. I turn around to hide the tremble in my chin and the tears rising in my eyes. “Good night, Nico.”

Without waiting for an answer, I power-walk to my room and close the door behind me, crashing against it until I bury my face into my knees. How I went from the best night of my life to the most humiliating will remain one for the records. On hands and knees, I dive into my suitcase. I pull all the clothes in there. The underwear. A book I brought and never read. I unzip the inner lining but they’re not here. There’s nothing left hidden inthere. When I hear the door, I race to the kitchen and pull all the cupboards and drawers open.

Still nothing.

Frustration tastes acrid at the back of my throat and I pull at my hair before I discard my clothes and let the covers on the bed swallow me, hoping the night will make me forget that I almost had something I wished for.

Lisa’s spectre watches me from the corner of the room and my throat clogs with fresh tears. My cheeks are wet with them in minutes while I sob silently, hoping I won’t wake Ember up. It’s not fair for her to wake up to the sound of my tears. Even if I get to raise her, I’ll lose her too. She’ll resent me for all the times I wasn’t enough.

And Nico? I haven’t even had him yet, but I’ll lose him too. It’s obvious I’m not worth his time or care.

22

NICO

CRIMSON RED PAINT

Something is wrong with Marie, but I have no clue what, or why.

She fled after what happened between us, her eyes downcast and sad, as though what we shared didn’t shatter her like it did me. Her reaction surprised me, but I’m so overwhelmed I can’t focus on her right now. I can’t give her what she needs because I’m in no position to guess and I don’t think she will tell me.

I need to take care of my needs so I can take care of hers. Painting has always been my solace and that’s all I can think of. I wish I could paintandkill, not necessarily in that order, but Dobrev hasn’t brought me my next toy yet. The blank canvas will have to do.

That kiss flipped my world. I went from not wanting anyone to touch me to being a needy mess on the brink of asking to burrow under Marie’s skin. The way she took command of my body was a thrill as high as the lick of a whip on my limbs. It could rival the perfect control of holding someone’s life in my hands. I’ll lay it all down for her.

My phone rings in my jeans pocket as I make my way to my workshop in the dark. There’s still a few hours left before sunrise, the forest pitched black. But I know the way as if I carved it myself.

I pick up without a greeting and my brother’s voice echoes on the other end of the line. “I’m bringing you a treat,fratellino,” he says with glee and a menacing tone I know is meant for his guest.

“I’m already at the workshop.”

I hang up without ceremony and pull the door of the barn open. The hinges are silent, white on white greeting me when I light up the room.

I’m faster than usual, discarding my clothes and fitting them neatly into the cupboard before I put on my painter’s suit. I might spend more time in it than usual today so I keep my t-shirt on underneath. It also smells like her from when she pressed herself against me, the memory of her breasts and sweet curves making me groan. The plastic on top of the soft fabric creates a new sound I’m unfamiliar with and I wince, but removing the tee isn’t an option. I need it for the next part of my night. I need her close when I lay the paint on the canvas and recreate what we shared.

After a few minutes, Andrea drags an unconscious man of medium build to the centre of the room. We fasten him on the hooks to hold him upright but he doesn’t rouse. “Do I need to know?” I ask my brother.

“His wife cried on Giulia’s shoulder about how he beats their son when she’s at work, then her when she gets home.”

I grind my teeth. Another man preying on those weaker than himself. I’ll show him what it’s like to be prey. I nod to Andrea who leaves shortly after, unaffected by how I look, and ready to get back to his wife rather than spend his night drenched in blood. He’ll indulge from time to time, but I guess tonight is not the night.

I preemptively put duct tape on my victim’s mouth and turn to my canvas and my sets of black and white, creating an array of greys on my pallet to paint the moment that changed my life.

I get lost in flow, creating the perfect abstract representation of what Marie means to me, of what her kiss changed for me, of how much I want her. One canvas turns into two.

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