Page 47 of Promise of Hellfire

“I’m having second thoughts. What if he gets mad at me?” she asked, worry marring her features.

I ran my thumb between her eyebrows, smoothing the skin there. “Then he gets mad,” I shrugged. “I don’t think he will though. Besides, you’re right. He’s been hiding his talent for years and it’s time he shows it off.”

Ethan popped his head into the room as I opened his closet, frowning. “I just want to let you know I support this mission, but if he catches us in his closet…”

I waved my hand at him dismissively. “He won’t. Trust me.”

In the back corner of the closet sat a pile of canvases covered with a sheet. I turned on the light and pulled the cloth aside, ignoring the dust tickling my nose. Rayne reached out and began looking at each as Ethan stood by watching her reaction.

“You should use that one,” he said, tracing his finger over the painting’s surface.

I glanced over at the one he was looking at and had to agree. It was the one he’d done most recently, after Michael Carter’s funeral. A woman’s face was cast in shadows and reflected in flames, her head thrown back, lost in ecstasy. The piece was provocative, washed in purples, blues, and oranges.

We chose a dozen other paintings, most of them portraying Rayne. To the uninformed bystander, you wouldn’t be able to guess, but she was his muse. Canvas after canvas filled with a curvy woman with full thighs and breasts, the occasional scar dotting her skin.

After putting everything back the way we’d found it, Ethan and I carried the canvases downstairs and loaded them into Rayne’s car. She took a deep breath as I sat beside her. “I can do this,” she said more to herself than anyone else.

Ethan stepped around to the driver’s side door and gave her a quick kiss. “You can do this,” he reassured her before walking back upstairs. We’d agreed when we were planning he would stay home, just in case Hunter showed back up.

Rayne clutched the steering wheel tightly until her knuckles turned white as she drove across town to the small arts district. “Calm down,” I told her and placed my hand on her thigh, hoping to comfort her. “He’s going to love this. He’s spent his whole life trying to please everyone else. This might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him.”

She pulled into a small parking spot on the cobblestone road near A Piece of Me, a small art gallery that agreed to help us. They were more than thrilled to help showcase Hunter’s work despite never seeing it in person.

We pulled the paintings from the car and I surveyed the building as we walked. It was an older home that had been renovated and converted for the owners’ purposes. It was clean with a brick exterior and white shutters framed the large windows. Small steps led to a wraparound porch complete with wooden swings. Charming was the best way to describe it.

An older woman swung open the front door in excitement and hurried towards Rayne. “I was wondering when you two would show up!” Despite her advanced age, I could tell she was a force to be reckoned with as she helped us inside. From her bright red hair to the violently purple dress she was wearing, she exuded a sense of chaos in the best way possible.

Once we were inside, I glanced around at everything as she looked through Hunter’s work. Glass vases and ceramic pieces sat on shelves, the sunlight hitting them and casting a rainbow kaleidoscope on the walls. Small sculptures of welded metal stood tucked in corners and canvases hung in every corner. In the middle, one lone wall was unadorned.

“These are fantastic. Do you know if he’ll want to sell any of them? I could find buyers for these,” the woman stated.

Rayne chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t know.”

The woman beamed as she made notes on a piece of paper. “That’s fine. What about formal training? Did the artist attend art school or…”

Rayne raised her eyebrows and laughed. “No, he has a finance degree.”

The woman started laughing with Rayne, and they chatted easily for several minutes before we finally left. “Is it weird that we planned this today considering last night?” she asked as we strolled down the stairs to the car.

I brushed a kiss against her knuckles. “It’s only weird if you make it weird,” I responded. “And we didn’t start planning this today. You’ve been planning it for weeks.”

We all deserved a little happiness at this point. Life would never be the same as it was last November, but it was time for a new normal.

Chapter thirty

Rayne

ThursdayeveningIcarefullyapplied my makeup and threw on a wrap dress hanging in the closet. Hunter still had no idea about tonight and butterflies careened in my stomach. My mind pictured tonight going one of two ways, even though I knew the possibilities of how he’d react were endless. The best-case scenario was he’d be absolutely thrilled. The worst-case scenario was he’d be angry, and feel like I’d violated his trust, similar to how I felt when I found out Ethan broke into my apartment after we first met. I dabbed at the sweat forming on my face.

Ethan peeked his head into my bedroom. “Ready?”

I shook my head at him as I pushed my feet into the stilettos I was wearing tonight and then grimaced, remembering I had a terrible track record wearing heels with the guys. “Not really. What if he hates it?”

Ethan grabbed my hand, leading me out of the room. “He won’t. Even if he does, he’ll have time to cool off. He won’t say anything in front of his mom.”

That was a fair point and helped to settle my nerves some. Ethan had invited everyone’s parents, Oliver, Marie, Paul, Aldo, Rory, Victoria, Kourtney, Ignacio, and only the gods knew who else earlier this week. Hunter wouldn’t cause a scene in front of them.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I noticed Hunter quietly sitting on the couch, watching a basketball game while he looked at his phone. Dominic pulled a black silk blindfold from his back pocket and stood behind him, wrapping it around his eyes.

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