Page 52 of Ashes of Saints

One. Not dozens of them.

I walk over.

They’re all a similar style and that’s when I realize who the artist is.

Wow.

Pulling out my phone, I call Eric, who is waiting downstairs with Durran.

“Organize a van to come to this address and pick up some items for me. Urgent in the next hour.” I give him the rest of the details.

“Sure boss.”

“I’ll be down in five.” I move the paintings to the doorway and then close the apartment door behind me.

Whatever happens from here, I want Aurora to have her artwork. She’s incredibly talented. That art degree might end up becoming useful after all.

She might hate me when I inevitably walk out of her life, but if I can leave her with a career path in mind, perhaps part of my soul will be saved.

Such a liar. You want to know she will be okay when she tells you to get the fuck out of her life.

I make it downstairs and stride past Eric, who’s on the phone talking to the delivery guys, and climb into the back of my car.

“We’re heading uptown,” I tell Durran. “Give me a minute to find the address.”

Three minutes later, we head to the only place I can think Aurora might be. If she’s not there, I’ve lost her.

Glancing out the window, I ignore the fact that it’s not the loss of information that has me grinding my teeth, but that I’ll never have my lips on hers ever again.

Goddamn it.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

AURORA

“Shit, shit.” I run in my socks along the hall and skid to a halt in the kitchen near the comms unit.

Beep.

I have no idea which button to push.

Beep.

I wasn’t expecting Chloe, but she’s the only one who knows I’m here, so I chew the side of my mouth, consider messaging her, realize how dumb that is, and push the button to let her up.

I glance down at my denim shorts, long white socks, and the tank top I’m wearing. I'm a mess, but don’t care. She’s seen me in worse conditions. I removed my dress and heels from work the moment I walked through the door. But my hair and makeup still look fine.

Opening the fridge, I pull out the orange juice, unscrew the lid, and lift it to my mouth. I hear the elevator ping as I start drinking.

When I let out a loud argh and drop the juice on the marble counter, I glance up, expecting to see Chloe.

Fuck.

Oh fuck.

I’m very, very wrong.

Swallowing as my eyes flare, I watch the most beautiful man in the world slide his hands into his pants and grin at me.

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