Page 27 of Cut Deeper

Boring. Boring.

Hmm.

Sat his A-levels well before his peers. That explained the know-it-all attitude. Dr Hammond was a nerd. He’d probably learned to pick locks because of his big brain. How did he manage to carry that fat head around?

His interview responses were wooden. I was like that at my exhibits too. I didn’t want to be there either—so I imagined all those people, collectors, journalists, industry professionals, learning what actually lay beneath the canvas.

Their shock. Their fear. Their disgust.

Then I’d smile politely and shake their hands.

I traced my finger along Ethan’s jawline in the photo and thought of what he’d done to Eva and Gareth. Then the shower this morning. I touched my lips. Kissing wasn’t something I did often, but Ethan’s kisses were full of heat. Different.

I left my phone on the nightstand and went downstairs to my studio. Now that I knew what had been wrong in the room, a sense of calm settled over it. The torn canvas lay propped against the wall.

Gareth’s lungs and testicles would serveFirst Breath Bornjust as well as mine—but standing there, new shapes and colours began to appear.

The colour of us. Violence.

I moved around the studio to fetch a fresh canvas.

Chapter 14

Ethan

It didn’t matter if I was in surgery or a consultation, Anne penetrated my mind. Like a vicious little virus, affecting my usual thought process. She wasn’t sharpening any knives or setting a trap for me. She remained in her studio. Didn’t eat. Didn’t do anything but focus on her canvas as if in a trance.

All while wearing my grey shirt.

Anne didn’t fear me. Not like everyone else. The knives I’d left on her doorstep weren’t meant to intimidate—they were an invitation to play, and she hadn’t panicked or called the police.

Part of me wished she’d remained in my basement, caged. It was more difficult than I’d anticipated, relinquishing control—and in doing so, admitting she was my equal.

I opened my drawer and got my wallet. Rather than send someone for my coffee, I decided I needed the distraction.

?? ?? ??

The girl was a few years younger than Anne. Bright smile, eyes brimming with life, courteous. Banal. Useless. Normal.

I took my coffee from her with a nod.

These people were so far beneath us.

Their lives pitifully bland.

I sipped my coffee.

She could live.

?? ?? ??

I parked my car on her driveway and stared at the front room window. Central London wasn’t cheap, and she’d managed to purchase a decent property, all from her artwork. She’d never even finished high school, yet she was more successful than the majority.

Clever girl.

The dark green door opened and she leaned in the doorway.

She wasn’t wearing my shirt.