FaCade (Deception #1) (20 page)

I wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened. My thoughts wouldn’t sort themselves out, the jumbled mass of rapid fire self-questioning giving me a headache. I knew whatever I thought, or Dante thought for that matter, that what had transpired was far from okay. It was wrong, very wrong. He was like this addiction, the pleasure he gave me overruling all the depravity he dished out, the drug he fed me outweighing the corruption made to get the high.

Life or relationships shouldn’t be like that. Although I wasn’t aware of what my life entailed, I knew deep down that this wasn’t what I wanted; however breaking away was easier said than done.

The high from my intense orgasm contradicted the raw pain on my neck… and in my heart. Although dominance was sometimes a sexual stimulant, Dante had taken that a step further, a step too far. The humiliation caused my stomach to twist over the fact that Malik had watched, disgust rolling over me.

I forced myself up from the floor, grabbing my jeans and redressing as I tried desperately to shut off the turmoil in my head.

I wandered the house aimlessly, my feet scuffing the floor in my desolation. Although the house was huge, I had never felt more isolated. Its many walls crushed my spirit, its mass of rooms doing nothing to stop the lonely ache inside me.

I ended my walk when I discovered an open door at the end of a long hallway I hadn’t come across before. Pushing it ajar I stared at the huge open space. A large window filled the whole of one wall, allowing so much natural light in that it was almost as if heaven greeted me. Three easels of different sizes were stood empty, various palettes leaning against the legs. Paints filled several shelves, an array of colors, tubes, pots, brushes and bottles kitting out the room for when I felt ready to return to something I apparently not only loved, but was good at.

My feet took me further in, my eyes still scanning every corner. A sink was situated behind the door, towels and aprons hung from hooks above. But I bypassed those and came to stand in front of a gigantic canvas. The scene took my breath. It was the house here, painted from an angle which suggested the front garden. Peering at it closer, I saw my name scrawled in the bottom right-hand corner. I stood in awe, looking at what my fingers created, the soft brush strokes apparently painted by me sweeping the watercolor elegantly and expertly.

I was amazed by my skill, yet something didn’t sit right. I couldn’t place my finger on what was bugging me as I stared restlessly around the studio, trying desperately to find what didn’t make sense.

Shrugging it off, I selected a brush from one of the pots and picked up a tube of blue acrylic paint, squeezing a small amount onto a palette. Even the equipment felt
wrong
but I put it down to my lack of memories.

Pulling an easel over to the window, I settled myself in front of it and dipped the brush into the paint then lifted it to the canvas. I wasn’t sure what I expected but nothing came, not even an image in my head to start with.

Swallowing back the annoyance, I diverted my gaze through the window trying to find a subject I could paint. A huge tree caught my attention, pink blossom covering its branches and the surrounding grass beneath it with a rustic iron bench situated to one side. Okay, that should be quite pretty to recreate.

I ventured back over to the shelf, picking a selection of assorted colors, expelling a tiny amount of each onto the palette with the original blue. White, green, red, yellow and blue now decorated the clean white plastic. I blinked again, angry at what was troubling me.

“Damn it, Star. Think.”

Inhaling deeply, I dipped the brush into the red, collecting a small amount before swirling it into the mixing compartment. Taking a measure of white I mixed it with the red. The pink I produced was a little gaudy so I mixed in a little more white. My gaze kept flicking to the blossom as I tried to form the exact color but it wasn’t working, the shade of pink either too harsh or too pale.

“God damn it, it can’t be that hard.”

Picking another brush I went to mix a brown. What were the colors I needed again? How did you create a brown, was it red and blue? Yellow, blue and green?

I couldn’t do anything; my memories were like a disability, holding me back from myself and my abilities.

I spun round, flinging the palette across the room. Paint sprayed across the floor then splattered the wall where it crashed into it, a rainbow the only thing I could actually create. I stared at the mess, the wall now my canvas as a variety of color spread out in lines and splodges.

I narrowed my eyes and slowly looked around. Nothing. There was no other mess in the room. And that was the problem. I tipped my head and studied the wooden floor. Nothing. My gaze lifted to the other three walls. Nothing.

I frowned, reaching for the supply of paintbrushes. All clean and brand new. Several pristine white palettes were piled up beside brand new tubes of paint, their seals still intact when I unscrewed numerous ones to check. I yanked an apron from a hook; it was still creased from where it had obviously been sat in its packaging. The sink was steel, its glare almost blinding.

“Holy shit!”

If this was my studio where I created my art, including the painting in the corner with my signature scribbled on it why was everything so new?

My mouth dried as my heartbeat sped up. I dropped into a chair that sat beside a wooden table and lifted a hand to my mouth as though it would stop the need to vomit. Why? Why lie to me? He had to be lying, there was no way this was a used studio. Even if it had been cleaned there would be old brushes and pallets, there would be paint rags. Right?

The painting of the house mocked me. Did I paint that? I looked down at my name in the corner of the painting,
Star Numan.

It was definitely my name. Grabbing some paper and a pencil, I signed my name, Star Numan, according to the autograph on the picture.

The pencil hovered over the paper, even my signature caused my brain difficulty but I forced myself.

Star Numan.

Star Numan

Star Numan.

Why was it so hard to find the same scrawl as the one I obviously always used? I forced myself harder, my eyes glued to the autograph on the painting as I tried to recreate an autograph I would have written frequently. My eyes narrowed as I stared harder and let the pen flow, refusing to watch myself write, hoping it came more naturally. A smile lifted my lips when I finally felt the pencil flow easily, the deep sweep of my hand moving fluently. However when I dropped my gaze to the paper, the floor shifted under me.

Star Numan

Star Numan

Star Avery

Faye Avery

Faye Avery

Faye Avery

Faye Avery

The chair screeched across the floor when I shot upright, the pounding in my chest painful and suffocating. What the fuck? Who the hell was Faye Avery? My head shook from side to side as my mind started to buzz.

“Faye!” I turned to see Jennifer waving as she ran towards me. “Where have you been?”

I shrugged, heat climbing up my face. “I…uhh…”

“Faye Avery! You’ve been with
him
again, haven’t you?”

The shame generated a tear which dribbled down my face as I shook my head at my best friend. “Jen… I… Oh shit, what the hell am I gonna do?”

Her brow creased. “Babe?”

“I… I can’t do this. I’m not sure it’s what I want. Hell, I don’t even know what Dante wants apart from the need to control me. But…” The floor seemed to shift beneath me and I swayed. Jennifer grabbed my hands and directed me onto the university steps. “Faye, talk to me. What is it?”

“He… I….”

“Star?” My body shook when Dante’s voice pulled me from the memory. I stared at him, his face feeling both foreign and familiar. “Are you okay?”

I closed my mouth, running my tongue over my teeth to coat them when they stuck to my lips. Nodding, I smiled weakly up at him. “Yeah.” He frowned at the tremble in my voice. “I just went a bit dizzy.”

He studied me for a moment. “Are you…” He grumbled when his phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered, telling the caller to hold on before he turned back to me. “I have to go, baby. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded, forcing a smile. I was well aware of the piece of paper on the table, my signature all over it. I wasn’t sure if I could deal with his reasons or excuses yet, and his wrath if I did question him was causing the tremble in my lip. He held the back of his hand to my forehead but shrugged, “You don’t have a temperature.”

“Honestly, Dante, I’m fine.”

He looked around the room as if finally realizing where we were and I quickly covered the paper with a fresh piece to hide it. “Oh,” he said, before turning back to me. “Have you managed to do much?”

I swallowed to remove the restriction in my throat. “No, to be honest I’m struggling.”

He gave me a sad smile then leaned into me, his soft lips kissing my forehead. “It’ll come, baby. Give it time.”

I nodded in return. He seemed so sincere, but I hadn’t imagined the evidence this room was not a studio where I’d worked, I knew it. “Yeah.”

He sighed then held up his phone, reminding me he had to go.

“I’m okay, better now. Go.”

He nodded and walked away but then paused near the door and turned back to me. “Listen, I’m sorry… about earlier.” I didn’t answer him, I couldn’t and if I was being honest with myself about how wrong it was then I needed to be as honest with him because there was no way I ever wanted a replay of what transpired earlier.

I released the breath I was holding trying to cover my anxious state by looking down at my feet instead of directly at him.

“I… I don’t like that side of you, Dante. You scare me.” It was the truth and since seeing this room and writing a completely different name to the one he and everyone used for me, that couldn’t have been truer.

“Mmm.” He nodded as if agreeing with me, stunning me. “I have to sort something but go put on a dress and meet me in the hallway in about an hour.”

I stared at him with a frown. “Why?”

“I think it’s about time I took you on a date.”

I couldn’t stop my eyes from widening. “You mean… on land?”

He chuckled, transforming his usual stern expression into light-hearted beauty. “Well, I have many things to cater for my personal side in the house but a restaurant is not one of them. So yes, we’ll be dining on the mainland tonight.”

I couldn’t contain all the emotions bubbling in my gut, relief to actually be leaving the house and excitement at actually being around other people. Maybe I could slip away, find somewhere to stay for a while until I could find out all the things not making sense.

I was trembling and annoyed with myself for it. He would notice my behavior and assume I was really sick, changing his mind about taking me. I schooled my meltdown. Inhaling a calming breath, I slipped a façade into place. “Thank you,” I said with a fake grin, one I imitated well according to his answering smile back at me, albeit soft.

His steps reduced the space between us, his fingers gently running across my lips. “You have such a beautiful smile.”

My heart swelled and then deflated with his genuine tenderness. I was so confused by everything. My emotions were shredded, I felt like just when I grasped onto something it was ripped from me to mock me, taunt me. Who was Star? Who was Faye? Who was Dante?

“That’s because you put it there.” I tried not to flinch at my own lies.

Maybe I was seeing too much into my name, maybe I used a pen name of sorts and everyone called me by that? My mind was trying to find a reasonable explanation but my heart pounding in my chest was telling me my instincts were correct… None of this was normal.

I needed to look for my passport or bank statements to confirm my identity before asking Dante to explain himself. I needed proof so he couldn’t feed me another story or deny my claims. He had a way of making me forget my questions. Forget the wrong in everything happening around me, to me. He made me feel responsible for taking away his apparently kinky and totally in love fiancé. I didn’t want to question his motives without proof and ruin the chance of him not taking me inland.

“Then I must remember to make you smile more often.”

His voice brought me out of my musings. He was studying my face. I nodded, biting my lip seductively to cover the doubt in my eyes as I pushed him towards the door. “Go, hurry with what you need to do. I’ll be waiting.”

He laughed, shaking his head at my eagerness before he turned and pulled the door to behind him.

I couldn’t breathe! I collapsed to the ground dragging air into my lungs. I startled when a shrill rang out into the room. Scanning the walls and surfaces for the ringing phone, I located a sleek black handset on the far wall.

“Hello?” I answered warily.

“Don’t get lost in any work Belle, you need to get ready!” The phone dial echoed down the line. That was it?

Oh god I was holding a phone… but who could I call?

Holding the phone I stared at the digits before my thumb worked over the keypad from memory, my eyes widening at the surprising recollection of numbers. Ringing sounded through the ear piece. My mouth dropped open, my ragged breathing almost dulling out the sound. Adrenaline pumped my heart harder.

Click

“Who’s this?”

Gasping I dropped the receiver. It was Dante. He sounded upset. I scrambled to pick it up.

“I’m sorry… I’m getting ready now.”

His intake of breath seized my heart. I quickly ended the call. I ran from the room towards our bedroom to get ready, my strides as fast as my heart beat.