Seductive Secrecy (Shadows series) (28 page)

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“YOU KNOW I CAN HANDLE A CERTAIN LEVEL
of sweat and funk,” Dallas said. “But this, Charlie? This is beyond even
my
limits. You really need to take a shower.”

“I will,” I told him, without looking away from the canvas. “Just as soon as I finish this piece.” I wiped my eye with the back of my hand and felt paint smear across my cheek as I pulled my fingers away. And that wasn’t the only acrylic residue on my face; it joined the crust of ebony on my forehead and a streak of dark slate at the
corner of my mouth. Globs of both colors were dried under my
fingernails and across my neck.

It had been over a week since I’d moved into Dallas’s
apartment— and I hadn’t changed my clothes that entire time. I’d set up a studio just to the side of his couch
which was also my bed. My clothes were still in suitcases that covered most of the floor space. I hadn’t used my cosmetics since I’d arrived, but they took up almost every
bit of the bathroom counter. He promised he didn’t mind the
invasion, and
I
promised I was going to get my own place soon. But the truth was I couldn’t stand the silence when I was alone. It consumed me; it sucked out every ounce of creativity I felt inside, every trace of love that had arisen in Cameron’s name, every bit of resilience that I’d
built since leaving the mansion. I was left in a corner, huddling
under my own shadow.

I would definitely move out.

I just didn’t know when.

“Maybe after you’re done we can go out and grab a beer? I need
one. I think we both do…and it would be good for us to be
surrounded by some different walls for a change.”

I glanced over at him as he sat on the couch, my pillows resting up against one side of him, my laptop and backpack on the other. He
had been so patient with me. He hadn’t left his apartment once
unless it was for work, knowing his constant presence made me feel a tiny bit better. For the first few days, he’d even slept on one of the chairs in the living room. As much as I tried to muffle my sobs and hide my tears, I hadn’t been able to. But he didn’t force me to talk about them; he simply let me have my sorrow. Honestly, I didn’t know how I felt
about discussing it with him anyway. He was my best friend
without question, but considering our past, constantly talking to him about Cameron just didn’t feel right.

I set my palette down and dropped my brush in a jar of water. If I waited until the piece was done, we’d never leave the apartment. It wasn’t even close to being finished. I’d probably end up throwing it out anyway. Despite trying to get back in the mood to paint by forcing myself to do the work, it wasn’t coming. “I’m going to get in the shower now.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

I smiled as I passed him on the way to the bathroom, quickly stripping off my stained jeans and tank top and leaving them on the floor next to the shower. As I stepped under the stream, I heard my
cell phone ring. I didn’t bother to glance out from the curtain to
check who it was. Only Professor Freeman and Dallas had customized ring tones anymore
Cameron’s had been changed back to generic
and it wasn’t either of them calling. There wasn’t anyone else I wanted to
talk to. I allowed the call to go to voicemail. This had happened so
many times in the last week, and I hadn’t bothered to check the
messages…or delete any of them. Cameron’s number flashed across my screen at least once a day. So did Ryder’s. I didn’t pick up the phone; I didn’t read their texts, either. There was no reason to. When I had walked out of that apartment, I had walked out of their lives.

Eventually, I knew they would both stop calling, and the feelings that struggled within me would hopefully start to fade. They still pulsed and throbbed regularly, reminding me that I wasn’t fully in control of my emotions yet. But I knew in order for me to move on, I
had to find a way to breathe without thinking of his warmth, to plan
my future without depending on his emotional support, to be in
Professor Freeman’s office without praying that his name wouldn’t come up or that I would run into him there.

There was no more Cameron, and there would never be again.

It was almost unfathomable.

I wondered if maybe I needed to scatter something, like I’d done with Lilly’s ashes, to finally accept that we had truly come to an end.

As little as I wanted to admit it, I couldn’t deny it anymore.

***

Dallas and I sat in a booth in the very back of the bar. It was one I’d never been to before, just a dive beer shack that was a block from his apartment. It was off-season for him, so he was only working in
the afternoons, training the guys who didn’t leave town for the
summer. That meant he could sleep off his hangover in the morning…and we
were well on our way. He’d ordered several rounds of shots in
between the beers. At some point, the waitress had brought us burgers to eat,
but we’d just picked around them as we drank. We were more
interested
in liquor than food. It had been a long time since I’d completely let
go
and let another substance control me. I didn’t do it often after
growing up in the house that I did, watching booze and drugs not simply
control Lilly, but own her outright. Tonight, though, I needed
something to dull the edges.

“You want my opinion?” Dallas asked.

So far, we’d avoided talking about Cameron and Ryder all
evening. I wanted to keep it that way. I knew I couldn’t.

“No.” I took a sip of my beer. “But I have a feeling you’re going to give it to me anyway.”

“Good call.” He took a shot. “I think you’re being stupid. He
obviously wants to be with you; he’s been calling you non-stop since you left his place.”

“I know. I’ve seen the voicemails.”

“So why are you being such a hard-ass?”

“Because of Ryder.”

His brows rose. “You actually want to be with Ryder?”

“No.” I had thought about being with him, though, about what it would be like if we were a couple outside of the mansion. It wasn’t like he could just completely disappear from my head in the course
of a week. He even haunted my dreams…obviously there was
something
keeping me from moving past him. But I wanted Cameron, not
Ryder.
No matter how much he stayed in my head, he could never be
anything more to me than just Cameron’s brother. “But in Cameron’s eyes—and in the mansion, too—I already have been with him. Whenever he looks at me, that’s all he’ll see. I don’t know how he couldn’t.”

“So what about Lora, then?”

I didn’t get where he was going. “What about her?”

“Do you think you’d see the same with her when you look at
him?”

I shook my head. “But she isn’t my sister.”

“True. But you hate her for having a history with him, don’t
you?”

“Yes, but—”

“And she’s still very much in your lives, even though you’d
rather not have her there.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes. I didn’t want her there, but I allowed it. It’s an entirely different thing, though.”

“You just make up your own rules to suit your excuses, don’t you? This isn’t the Charlie I know.”

“Oh no?” He was starting to piss me off. “And which
Charlie
do you know, Dallas?”

“I know the new Charlie—the one who confronts her demons
and moves past them. What you’re doing is what the old Charlie would
have done: cower in the corner, give up on herself. Throw away
happiness in favor of self-pity.” He knew me too well. “The new Charlie is too fearless, too honest—too aware of what she wants for herself—to let things fall apart.”

I downed the rest of my glass. “That’s not true.”

“Really?” He signaled for another round. “You were ready to
move out of the country to escape the mansion—in other words,
run away from your problems
—and instead you convinced your father to turn over all the evidence he had to bring that place to its knees, putting both of your lives at risk in the process. And when the dust had settled, you went after your career at full bore. And you went after Cameron. You faced everything…you gained everything. And now you’re ready to throw everything away again.”

He was absolutely right. “Yep. I’m a fucking mess.” The waitress
arrived and brought our next set. “I can’t even squeeze a painting
out
anymore. Did you see that piece I was working on earlier? It was
shit… total, absolute shit.”

He downed another one. “And your hygiene isn’t winning any awards, either.”

I wanted to laugh at that, but I was too numb. “I don’t know
where I went, Dallas. But I want to find me again.” It sounded ridiculous. But it was totally true. “I really believe that I don’t know how to be happy. I don’t even know if I deserve to be.”

Dallas just stared at me. “Bullshit.” He was way too honest when
he was half-drunk. “You know exactly how to be happy…and no
matter what Lilly made you believe, you
deserve
to be happy. The question is do you really
want
to be happy.”

I knew that question was supposed to come with an obvious
answer, but I wasn’t sure if I had one. Lilly had made it almost
impossible to identify happiness in our household; I really hadn’t felt
it until Emma came into my life. And when she left me, sex gave me those brief bouts of pleasure and it was enough to hold me until my next
orgasm…which always came shortly after my first. Until the truth
came out, I had found enjoyment at the mansion. But nothing compared to
how I felt when I was with Cameron. When my love for art
combined with my feelings for him, euphoria spread through me.
Those were the best moments. But now the mansion was looming
over me, casting its shadow and sucking the happiness out of everything. Its effect on
my life was now permanent; I could never take back what had
happened with Ryder, no matter how much love I made with Cameron.

I wanted to feel that level of bliss again.

I just didn’t know how it would be possible.

“Yes…I
want
to be happy,” I answered.

He tipped his head. “Then
be happy
. You know how to
get
there; you just have to let go of the fear of
being
there.”

The waitress delivered two more mugs of beer and two more shots of tequila, which I didn’t remember ordering. We held the shot glasses up in the air.

“To love?” he asked.

“Nope. I think I’ve had enough of that for now.”

He smiled and shook his head a little, his eyes slightly red from all the liquor. “You haven’t had nearly enough; you’re just starting out. It only gets deeper and more painful.”

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