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He ignored Ethan, happy to whisk me away upstairs. Trix and Ethan’s private conversation made not so private by their naturally loud voices, could be heard as we approached the top. They thought we were good for each other, and it made my heart burst.
Mercer’s feet stilled at my door. I clutched him tighter, not wanting him to take the step inside I knew was coming.
Bare feet avoided the bloodstains on the carpet. He placed me on the bed I hoped never to sleep in again and moved to the canvas on the floor. His eyes and fingers roamed the painted tree, the ruin granting furrowed eyebrows and a whitewash of fury.
He was mad, but I saw the painting differently today. An abstract beauty that, ironically, thanks to the heavy rain that had appeared from nowhere in the last few minutes—weighing down the red leaves—held a closer resemblance to the maple now that it was blurred beyond the wet window.
He typed a quick message from his keypad. “This tree will be beautiful in winter. I’ll take you outside for a better view, and if you’re not too chicken, you can feed my fox some berries, too.”
He swapped one painting for another, the heart bringing out mixed emotions for him. He concealed them all by biting his lower lip.
Taking a seat at my side, he handed it to me.
“Is it done?” the new voice asked.
“Do you not like it?”
“I would like it to be healed. Is that possible?” His mannerisms, skating touches and sharp stares, smiles that the devil would be powerless to, dragged the truth from me.
“Yes.” I nodded. “We can heal it.”
We can heal our broken hearts.
“Good...because I want to display it for everyone.”
He carried me back to his room, and I carried the canvas, ready to add the first of many stitches to the broken heart. He left, returning moments later, paints and new brushes in hand. It was almost like he had a storage closet somewhere in this house that catered to each of my needs.
“Can you be finished by tonight? I have plans for us.”
I knew he didn’t mean a date. The cold, cruel look in his eyes told me exactly where we were going.
Home.
He was taking me home again, for an introduction with the only family I had left.
Chapter 26
Feebee
The fine hairs on my neck stood up as the home I grew up in rolled into view. The car came to a slow stop, and I suddenly felt less comfortable in the very comfortable cushioned seat as I stared out through tinted windows.
A sharp breath hitched in my chest as I took in the place I once called home. It looked more like a house from a creepy story a teen babysitter would tell the kids as she tucked them in, than a loving family home. And that was exactly what it was...a place of taboo nightmares that collided with my reality.
A shiver ran down my spine, eyes roving over black turrets casting shadows on the ground below, sharp spikes threatening the dying flowers. The dark drapes sat open, revealing dull and lifeless rooms with hideous floral wallpaper peeling off the walls. The place needed redecorating.
The only lights we could see came from a candle in the front room downstairs and the flickering porch light, which spent more time off than on, thanks to faulty wiring.
A portable speaker attached to Mercer’s collar asked a question, the voice too much like a sexy horror villain. I half expected to see him in some kind of ghost mask when I twisted my head to face him.
“You don’t have to come in. You don’t have to be here at all. But he’s not going to survive the night.”
Despite what Mercer said about us coming here tonight, he offered me the chance to back out, but as horrible as it was, I wanted to be here. I wanted to see the fear on this monster’s face. I wanted to see all his nightmares come to life, just like mine had.
I had to be here to end my own nightmares.
I shook my head, my hair grazing the jacket I wore.
“You’re sure?”
