Page 143 of Dirty Pleasures


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Shocked, I moved my view to him.

He’s up. How much did he hear?

My bottom lip quivered.

Slowly, Kaz began to shed the blanket from his form, casting it aside as if shedding a second skin.

Baba and I remained silent.

Rising from the couch, Kaz’s movements mirrored that of a ferocious lion awakening from its slumber—each muscle uncoiling with a predator’s grace. His large, formidable body stretched and expanded, filling the space around us. The sinews in his arms and the contours of his chest became more pronounced.

With every inch he gained in height, the air shifted more.

And through it all, his gaze remained fixed on the painting next to me. It was as if my artwork had cast a spell, drawing him in with an invisible tether.

He sees them. . .all of them. . .

I felt naked.

So utterly exposed.

I wanted to go somewhere and hide.

Baba smiled, yet a tear fell from her eye. She wiped it away and headed toward the bedrooms. “I will go check on Paolo. He gets up around this time.”

Kaz continued to the canvas and slowly began to take each person in.

And I stood there, trying to steady my nerves for the conversation ahead.

Chapter twenty-six

Meet the Alters

Emily

Kaz stopped right in front of the painting—this visual embodiment of my fractured soul.

I held my breath.

What does he think?

Forcing myself to exhale, I inched back to the window and twisted my fingers in one hand.

I knew he was judging it with a critical eye, and my heart pounded with nervousness.

Say something, baby. Please. . .

I watched the play of emotions across his face with bated breath.

Every stroke on the canvas was a piece of my confused mind, each color a whisper of my fears.

His gaze moved from one personality to the next, and I could see the dawning of realization, the awakening to my inner world’s chaos.

Oh God. This is excruciating.

My pulse picked up.

Shock hit his features first, like the initial cold plunge into an unknown sea, eyes widening as they took in Lunita’s fierce gaze, the innocent clutch of the little girl to her lion, and M’s brooding presence.

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