Page 3 of Wolf's Son
“All I ask for you to do is be at my side for these dinners and play hostess for the gala and charity ball.”
Those were enough to make me want to do my head in. I hate being the hostess of those things. I like my life the way I’ve created it for myself. Though my brother still controls quite a bit of it. Izaiah claims it’s because he loves me and wants to protect me, but in truth, he’s suffocating me, destroying a large part of who I am.
I want my brother in my life. I want to spend time with him, but it seems the only time I have with him is when it’s at one of these dinners or parties.
“Izaiah, I can’t keep doing those dinners and such. I hate them. I’ve done them for years, and they are constant-time consumers. I prefer to be spending my time getting my art into galleries instead.”
There, I said it.
I told him what I wanted to be doing. My dream was to eventually open my own gallery, and I could do it. I had my trust fund. I could afford to do it, but I told myself I wouldn’t touch that money unless it were an absolute emergency.
My art means everything to me, and I’ll keep going at it until I finally find somewhere to show it off.
“Art is a hobby, something you do in your spare time,” Izaiah grunts, hurting my feelings. I get he doesn’t understand why I have a love for all things art, but he never really cared to try to understand my love for it.
“I’m not going to argue this with you, big brother,” I tell him, doing my best not to let him hear the hurt in my voice.
“Jacqueline,” Izaiah sighs, “I know it means something to you, but so does what I need from you.”
“Fine, Izaiah, I won’t miss the next dinner,” I huff out. “Now, I have to go. I’ve got to get ready to go meet with the event coordinator for the Gala.” I don’t bother waiting for him to respond and hang up. I’m sure I’ll hear about his displeasure tomorrow night at the dinner party, but for now, I’m going back to silence.
Well, not really silence because I can’t stand complete silence.
Getting up out of my chair, I take my phone with me and head out the back door to walk the short distance to my studio. It used to be a garage that I had converted to meet my purposes. The outside of the building looks like a smaller version of my house, but it was mainly just one big room with a powder room.
My house, though, was a three-bedroom with two bathrooms. The kitchen, dining area, and living space were all open floor plan, something I really liked about the house when I bought it. It’s the one thing I ever did against my brother’s wishes. He hadn’t wanted me to move out of the house, but he didn’t fight me too much.
If he knew someone had finally bought the house next door, he’d probably be over here demanding I move out, which I was not going to do. My house was perfect for me, and I wasn’t going anywhere.
Shaking thoughts of my brother out of my head, I grab the remote for the stereo system, and immediately, Metallica starts up with “The Unforgiven”.
I love music. It was soothing to me. It didn’t matter what kind it was, whether it was rock and metal or hip-hop and R&B or even instrumental. It all speaks to me.
Glancing around the studio, I smile, feeling relaxed. The large space wasn’t just for art, it was also for dancing—something I did in private. I haven’t danced in public in a very long time. The last time was when I bombed an audition for a dance company. During one part of the audition, I ended up falling and tearing a ligament.
I hated that I lost my chance, but it gave me time to think about what I wanted to do with myself. I did a lot of thinking. The one thing that’s always stuck out to me is my art. Working with not just paints but also glass. I love glass blowing, making beautiful glass sculptures out of nothing.
Releasing a sigh, I turn my attention to where I was working most times. Making my way over there, I grab what I need and get back to working on the glass piece that’s taken me months to perfect.
Moving the motions of creativity, I lose myself to it all and only stop when there’s a pounding on the door.
Lifting my head, I straighten and hop off the stool I was sitting on. I make my way to the door and open it to find the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life standing there.
“Mind lowering the music down?” he demands gruffly before I can ask him what he’s doing at my door. My studio door, no less.
“Pardon?” I ask, blinking up at him.
“Music, turn it down,” he orders louder than he did the first time, leaning toward me slightly.
Slowly, I turn around, move across the room to where I’d been working, and grab the remote, pointing it in the direction of my stereo system. I turn the music off instead of just down. Turning back to the man, I find him still standing in the doorway.
“I didn’t realize I was blasting it so loud.” I also hadn’t had anyone living in the house next to me in the time since I moved in which was well over a year ago.
“Well, try not to do that shit all the time, especially at night. Got a kid, don’t need him being up all night. Yeah?”
“I’m sorry, I’ll be more cautious about the volume. I get in the zone and don’t realize anything, definitely lose track of time when I’m working,” I tell him, and reach out my hand as I close the distance between us. “I’m Jacqueline, by the way.”
“Wolf,” he states, but doesn’t take my hand. He just eyes me up and down before turning on his boot and making his way back across my yard to his.
