Page 21 of Buying Time

“You’re too hard on yourself, Kenz. You’re a fantastic artist. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

His praise made me laugh. It was sweet, of course, and I appreciated it, but I also knew better than to trust him. I could have smeared dirt on a page and Colton would have killed anyone who dared say a bad word about it.

“I’m not calling you for reassurance, Colton. I need a favor.”

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“I need you to get some pictures for me. Ones of the family, of all of us together.”

And there was the hesitation. He wouldn’t have paused at all had I needed him to kill, kidnap or torture anyone, but I asked for a few photos and he acted like it was a crazy idea.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” he asked, his words slow and cautious.

“I know that having anything that connects me back to my real life is dangerous, but if I can’t get this exhibit right, what’s the point of the last year?”

“And how will painting something like that help?”

“Because art is supposed to make peoplefeelsomething. I was reminded of that recently, that it isn’t about making pretty things that don’t matter. If I’m going to think about things that matter, that are important to me, what better way is there than family? Than my past?”

His sigh was long and drawn out, a sure sign he didn’t agree with my conclusion. “Your father had most of that packed away, you know?”

“I know, but that’s why I’m asking you. You would know exactly where he kept that sort of thing, and you won’t pry as much as the others would.”

“I don’t know about this,” he muttered.

“It’s a risk, but it’s important to me. I promise I’ll be careful with them, that I won’t let anyone else see them, so no one finds out who I am.”

“I don’t care about that,” he snapped.

His sharp tone caught me so off guard I didn’t respond right away. Colton rarely spoke to me like that, always careful not to frighten me.

“Sorry,” he whispered, his voice the same I was used to, as though he’d calmed himself down on purpose. “But it isn’t about anyone finding out who you are. If you wanted to tell everyone exactly who you are, it wouldn’t bother me. We’d hire security and make sure you were safe, but I never was a fan of you hiding in the first place.”

“So why do you care if I see pictures?”

“Because those were ugly days, Kenz. They were times when you were alone, frightened, used. You were raised under a contact microscope, forced to endure the death of your mother and sister, then torn away from what little stability you had left. If I had it my way, I’d be happy if everything before you going to Florida was wiped from you mind, if you could forget all the pain from those days. You are out there, on your own, and now you want to open those wounds?”

His words took me by surprise. Colton hadn’t ever been a real-feelings sort of man.

Hell, no one had been in my past. My mother had been smart but reserved, expecting us to live up to our bloodline. My father hadn’t given a damn about anything except me doing as I was told. My sister had been my soft place, before she’d disappeared, and after she came back? She didn’t enjoy talking about emotions at all, as though by ignoring them she could pretend she had none. The Quad had been no different, all of them quick to take care of me but having no understanding of how I really felt.

It meant him not only being aware of such a thing but voicing his opinion showed just how far he’d come, how much he’d changed in the year since rekindling his relationship with Nem.

It warmed me. He deserved happiness—they all did. It might not be the same sort of happiness most people found, but it was their own.

“I understand your point. I’m not going to pretend that going through that is going to be all fun and games, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it. I want to give this exhibit my all, to show what I’m capable of, and that means looking deep inside myself. Please, Colton, I need your help.”

The silence crackled, and I could imagine his expression. His dark eyes narrowed, a worry line between his brows. He really was easy to read for someone like me, someone who knew him so well.

“I have a family album,” he admitted softly. “Your mother started it when pregnant with Nem, and she kept it up until her death. I added pictures after that, but I didn’t have the same skills she did. I’ll overnight it to the school since you apparently don’t go to your apartment anymore.” The censure in his tone made me laugh, especially because he must know better than to directly ask me about that.

It seemed Nem had him on a tight leash when it came to me.

“Thank you.”

“Not so fast,” he interrupted. “You know how this world works. Nothing comes for free.”

“You’re charging me for a favor?”

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