Page 74 of The Price of Mercy
“When they’re discussed, not—” He opens his eyes and stares at me. “Trampled on.” Sighing, he turns back to his monitors and rapidly clicks his mouse. “Give me a minute to wrap this up.Go entertain her.” With a grin, Kane ruffles his lover’s unkempt hair and stomps over to me.
Seeing the chapel at night gives it a whole new vibe. In addition to the string lights criss-crossing over our heads, there’s the sound of crickets outside and the hum of multiple space heaters turned on full blast. The chill of winter keeps its distance.
“Love what you’ve done with the place.” The mattress is soft under my feet, so I plop down and shove my legs under the blankets. It’s warmer in this little alcove than the rest of the room, with the string lights providing a soft glow of both light and heat from above.Definitelya fire hazard. I’ll have to keep the Marshall away from this particular location when he comes for our annual inspection.
Despite my sarcasm about the venue, the longer I take in the view, the more I appreciate it. The stained glass windows twinkle from the bare bulbs scattered around the room, their soft sway from an invisible draft in the rafters making everything sort of… cozy. In a run-down, homey kind of way.
“It’s definitely an upgrade from the apartment,” Kane murmurs, “no matter what Zane says.” Holding out his hand, he smiles sweetly at me. “C’mon, I want to show you something.” He pulls me to my feet and waits for me to slide on my slippers. “I’ve been waiting for you to get curious,” he admits as he laces our fingers together. “Took you long enough.”
My face warms. “I’ve been busy!”
His smile curves into a smirk. “Mhm. Busy avoiding me and Zane.”
I sputter. “That’s not true! I see you all the time!”
“Yeah, becausewecome toyou. Why do you think Zane spends so much time in your house? He doesn’t actually believe in tarot, you know. He’s been waiting for you to sit with him. Damn near bites my ear off about it every night. I don’t knowhow many more times he can draw The Hanged Man without going insane.”
“He’s been drawing the same card?”
Kane nods. “He’s convinced that your grandma’s stacking the deck, but I don’t think she has the dexterity to pull that off.”
What Grandma Star lacks in finesse, she makes up for with experience. I wouldn’t put anything past her when it comes to her tarot or her tea.
There’s a door near the back of the chapel that leads to the only other section of the church, the room where the pastor used to live. When Kane swings open the door, I’m expecting to find an empty dust den, but it’s even brighter than inside the chapel. Lamps of all shapes and sizes fill the space, with dozens of canvases and sketchbooks leaning against the walls or stacked on the floor. Art supplies of all kinds litter the room in organized chaos, separated by type first, then by color. Stacks of clean towels and buckets of water, some dirty with paint and others clean and clear, sit closest to the only window in the room. A single easel stands beneath a warm spotlight created from multiple lamps with overturned shades, its canvas the largest in the room.
“I’ve been painting,” Kane informs me, “at night when I can’t sleep. I’ve reworked this scene over and over again, but I can’t figure out what’s missing.” He lifts me over a spilled patch of paint before walking through it himself, uncaring of the muted lavender footprints he leaves behind. Standing behind me, he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on the top of my head. “I need your eyes, Siren.”
Warmth envelops my body along with the familiar scent of an art studio tinged with something smokey and earthy.Kane, I tell myself, snuggling into his chest. Sam’s absence has been strange, but Kane’s been present the entire time. Zane, too, honestly, the two of them attempting to fill a void that Sam left.
The fact that he hasn’t said a word or sent a note or anything makes me anxious.
“I thought that Sam loved me,” I murmur softly. “He said that he loved me.” The colors on the canvas bleed together as my focus slips. “But how can he love me if he isn’t here?”
Kane’s chest expands against my back as he takes a deep breath. “Love can’t be defined that easily, Mercy. It’s like…” He dips his fingers into a fresh blob of burgundy on a nearby palette. “Paint.” Rubbing the pads of his thumb and index fingers together, he spreads the paint between them. “When you mix the colors together—” He dabs three of his fingers in a pure white. “—the composition changes. No two loves are the same.” Tracing a flower bud on the back of my hand, Kane separates the colors until they reach the center, where they combine into a dusty rose. “And when you add a third—” Deep indigo blends into the petals, quickly followed by a sudden swipe of vibrant orange highlights. “Or a fourth, that love is unique.”
“It’s complicated,” I murmur, brushing my fingertips across the palette to gather paint. I draw a white diamond on the back of Kane’s hand. “It should be easy.” My heart catches in my throat. My parents’ love was always easy; they were in sync every step of the way, from sunrise of their first day together until their final sunset when they parted for different realms. My dad misses her every day.
I miss Sam every day, too.
Kane takes my hand and gently spins me around to face him. “Loving youiseasy.” His eyes reflect the bright lights, sparkling and intense as he holds my gaze. “It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done, Mercy.” Taking a breath, he laces our fingers together. “I know that Sam feels the same. Don’t give up on him… or on me.” A faint blush dusts his cheeks. “I’ve never done this before, and I want to do it right. I normally rush into everything since I get so—” He scrunches his face. “—excited, you know? You excite me,Mercy, but you also have this calming effect. Like you can anchor me back to earth. I need that sometimes.” He steps closer. “I needyou.”
NowI’mthe one blushing. “You’ve never done… what before?”
His gaze remains steady as he brushes warm knuckles across my rosy cheek. “Fallen in love like this.”
I bite my lip as nerves tingle down my arms. My heart skips once, twice,threetimes as I hold Kane’s gaze. The spotlight behind him damn near makes him glow, turning his blonde hair golden and his eyes warmer and brighter than I’ve ever seen.
He doesn’t look like a man who wants to kill me.
He looks like a man who…
Loves me.
“But I thought—” My mind whirls as I try to come up with a reason whywe can’t.I’m not supposed to like two men at the same time, let alone love more than one person. Sam makes sense. Kane makes my world spin.
I take a step back and stumble on a stack of canvases. Kane catches me, but rather than pull me back up, he holds me close and falls right along with me. He takes the brunt of the fall as he slams into the floor, grinning like an idiot as he gazes up at me. “You’re beautiful,” he breathes, tossing his head back. “God, you look good with my art.” Grabbing my shoulder, he pulls my sweater down to expose my collar bone and smears black paint across my skin. “Should’ve brought you here sooner.”
As he grabs a bottle of sunflower yellow and squeezes it into his palm, I scoot back. “Wait! Kane!” We haven’t talked about anything he just said, and covering me in paint all of a sudden is the kind of crazy spontaneity that makes him unpredictable. He follows his heart, no matter where it leads.
