Page 81 of Sinful Skulls
I squeeze a generous amount of paint onto my palate, and then I brush the bold red over the apple in my hand.
Anger begins to bubble beneath the surface of my skin as I think about my mother and how scared she must have beenwhile my father painted her. I stand up and begin to splatter red over my painting. “Why are you evil? I hate you!” I yell.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Um, just a minute.” I panic, hoping whoever it is didn’t hear me.
I turn the easel close to the wall and shove my mom’s portrait behind the box. No one will pay any attention to it over there.
When I open the door, I find Dirk sitting on the bottom step.
“Hey, sorry. I was just finishing up. I need to clean my brushes, and then I’ll get out of your hair.”
He rubs his hand over his head lazily. “You ain’t in my hair, darlin’.”
His tone makes me uneasy. I back up and head over to the sink to clean out my brushes. He follows me into the studio, his eyes scanning the paintings I’m taking over to Lily’s shop tomorrow.
“That’s what you’ve been doing down here all day?”
“Yep.”
His eyes pause on the easel in the corner.
“I’m not finished with that one yet.”
When he returns his attention to me, I know he heard me yelling.
“Sometimes I get a little emotional when I paint.”
His eyes narrow as he ushers me out of the room, closing the door behind us. I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s not going to push it.
But when we get to the top of the steps, he drops his arm across my shoulders and turns us the opposite direction of the front door. “Step into my office,” he says smoothly.
“Um, I have to get going.” I pull my phone out of my pocket seeing several missed calls from Brody. “Oh, geez, I didn’t realize how late in the day it was getting.”
“Brody is on his way over. He wants to ride with you over to JD’s,” Dirk informs me as he pours two glasses of whiskey. He slides one over to me.
“Oh shoot. I completely forgot we had plans.”
Dirk shrugs and takes the seat at the bar beside me. “You’re not late. No worries. Brody has everything handled.”
“But I wanted to make a dessert or something to take over there.”
He laughs at my distress. “Have you met Elizabeth? She’s not going to have a shortage of food. Trust me.”
I take a drink, sighing after the smooth liquid runs down my throat. “Oh, that’s nice.”
Dirk smiles wide. “Finally, someone who appreciates a good whiskey.” He taps his glass on the bar. “Brody had me keeping an eye out for you today.”
My brows pull together, and I take another drink without responding.
“That’s how this club works. My brothers and I love our bikes and the open road, but we love our women more. We protect what’s ours. So, when I hear worry in my brother’s voice, I gotta wonder what’s going on.”
I finish off my drink in one gulp, and he pours me another.
“I kept him up last night. I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.”
He clinks his glass against mine. “I’m also a proud member of the insomnia club.”
