Page 41 of Isle of Pain

At some point, the man suspended to the ceiling of the workshop shuffles, his muffled cries irritating me. I stand up and take a mallet, swiping it across his cheek violently. The blow reverberates into my arm and sends my heart into a frenzy, blood pouring from his nose onto the concrete floor. What if I added it to my masterpiece?

Carefully, I swipe the crimson liquid from the floor with a new brush and bring it to my canvas, highlighting the top corner of the piece. It brightens the painting immediately and reminds me of when Marie bit me so hard I bled for her. I touch my lip and shudder, opening up the small wound again. My cock strains against my boxer briefs but I ignore it. I keep on painting.

And on, and on.

Until a shy sun ray floats through the small window on top of my workspace. My eyes sting from the focus, my mouth dry with lack of hydration. Movement in my periphery brings my mind back to the present moment. I admire the pieces I created and smile. They’ll need to dry, then I can hide them, to be coveted in the dark when I need a reminder that this is real.

Now, I need to tend to my client, but the usual excitement is replaced with an emotion I don’t have a name for. It’s a sense that I’m not where I’m supposed to. I’m meant to inhale sweet lavender scent, not lemon-scented bleach and copper from blood that isn’t mine.

I sigh. “It’s your lucky day,” I tell the man in front of me. His eyes shine with hope and I snuff it out when I take a single pillfrom my shelves. He whimpers in fear and that strokes the pride in me.

I keep it for very rare cases, but I don’t have the will to wait for him to bleed out. I certainly don’t want to touch him long enough to strangle him, even though my hands are covered with gloves. I need him to die fast so I can burn his corpse and grind his bones to dust. That already will take long enough, and the itch under my skin isn’t coming from the need to kill right now. No, it’s the need to touch my sweet, dominant and shy Marie. And Ember.

I miss my baby, I realise.

What a novel thing to feel.

I’m smiling, a pep to my steps, as I advance on the man and shove the pill in his throat, closing his airways so he has no choice but to swallow. The cyanide works in minutes and he convulses before giving his last breath.

While his body burns, I take another canvas and paint him as well, though it’s only 12 by 18 inches. He wasn’t memorable enough to deserve a bigger format. The sun is fully up when the grinder works its magic and I take the quickest shower, walking back to my house naked.

23

NICO

HEART TO HEART

Ienter my home and get to my bedroom, throwing a soft grey sweatpants and tee-shirt on before making my way into the living-room to find Marie. It’s 9 am, later than I wanted. She’s on the couch, playing with Ember.

I simply stare. They’re so perfect, in my home, on my couch. But when Marie finally looks up to me, her eyes are unfocused and the grey underneath is back, creating a deep shadow on her youthful cheeks. The light smile I’m growing addicted to is absent.

“Where were you?” she asks, her voice so raw I hear my heart breaking into tiny pieces inside my chest.

I’m not used to considering another person when I take care of my needs to regulate after an overstimulating experience. It’s always been just my brother and my mum for the past ten years and they know how I operate. I’ve never had to explain myself. Marie’s hunched shoulders and sad demeanour tells me I fucked up by leaving last night. I was overwhelmed but so was she.

I approach her, kneeling at her feet, fingers grazing her calf while I support my weight with the other. She doesn’t flinch away from my touch. Hope blooms inside me.

I can salvage this. I can explain.

“I went out to paint.” She frowns but averts her gaze again. “And I killed a man,” I add because I want her to know exactly who I am. There will be no unsaid words or secrets between us. She’s been kept in the dark long enough. I won’t be the one to put her back there again.

She lifts her eyes to mine then stands to place Ember in her crib next to us. I don’t move until she sits back down again and gives me her full attention. I don’t read any disgust on her face, her green eyes shine with curiosity , the dark locks of her luscious hair falling on each side of her in beautiful curtains. Compelled, I lift a hand and glide my fingers through a soft strand.

“Who was it?” is her first question and my lips tip up. Marie Moretti is much more bloodthirsty than her sisters and cousin suspect and I love that I’m the one to know that about her before anyone else.

“Someone who beat his kid and wife, but not the man Andrea is tracking.”

She nods once then straightens up, the image of regal beauty. “You should have told me, Nico.”

“I know, I—” She raises a hand to cut me off and I obey. “I haven’t given you permission to speak, have I?” I shake my head and she continues, oblivious that my cock is hardening under the soft fabric of my pants, oblivious to my growing need for her. “This was my first kiss, Nico and you left. Do you know how that made me feel?” Despite the assurance her position portrays, her voice breaks and the truth of her words register in my brain, confirming what I already knew. I refused her aftercare andthat’s against my principles and what I thought I knew about myself.

“I thought you rejected me. I thought you hated that I touched you like this and needed to clean yourself of me. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me, like the rest ofthem.”

Ignoring her previous order to stay put, I lift myself off the ground and invade her space, as I sit close to her.

“Permission to speak?” I ask and she nods. “I told you I would be back, Marie. And I don’t lie. I felt overwhelmed and I needed to find my outlet. I’ve never let anyone touch me like this.”

I take her hands in mine, creating small circles against her skin with my thumb. Her fingers are frozen and I encircle them with both my hands.

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