Vipers and Virtuosos (Monsters & Muses, #2)(70)

He clears his throat, adjusting the collar of the light-blue button-down he has on.

“In any case, I’m also not officially open right now. This is supposed to be by appointment only, and I have a showing in twenty minutes. You should probably leave.”

Instead of listening, though, I make my way to his desk, settling my forearms on top of the dark wood surface. Caleb doesn’t spare me a glance as I loom over him, and the lack of attention irritates me.

The lack of respect from him, in general, is infuriating, although part of me feels like I’m more bothered by the fact that he gets the soft, genuine side of Riley, and all I get are the bits I scrape from her.

“What’s the nature of your relationship with Angel?” I bite out the last word, hating that I have to use it.

His brows lift. “None of your business, apparently. If she didn’t tell you about it, then I don’t feel I should betray her judgment.”

“Maybe I want to hear it from you.”

“Why? Don’t you trust her?” A smirk pulls at the side of his mouth. “What do you want me to say? That I’ve fallen asleep to the sound of her screaming my name practically every night she’s been here? That some days, it hurts to shower, because the sting from where her nails raked down my back the night before is almost too much to bear?”

My fingers curl around the edge of the desk, heat boiling inside my chest.

“I could tell you those things. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to be able to. But they’d be lies.” He shrugs, folding pamphlet after pamphlet, creasing the pages perfectly and stacking them to his right. “Truth is, I barely know her. She keeps herself locked up tight, and the chains around her heart are damn near impenetrable.”

Blowing out a breath, I sag against the desk. “Tell me about it.”

Caleb doesn’t say anything for several beats. The only sound is that of the papers shuffling and the soft tones of instrumental jazz trickling in from somewhere.

Grabbing the back of his neck with one hand, Caleb stops what he’s doing and meets my gaze. “I’ve spent a lot of time wishing those beautiful blue eyes of hers would acknowledge my feelings. That she’d, I don’t know… wake up one day and realize I could help her. Keep her safe from whatever it is she’s running from.”

Fire rages in my stomach, its flames rolling up my sternum and singeing my throat. The rings on my fingers feel heavy, leaden as they curl into my palms, trying to listen without wanting to rip his jugular out.

“But, ah… that’s not gonna happen. She doesn’t look at me like I’m the answer to her problems.” He clears his throat once, twice, then returns to his task. “She doesn’t look at me the way she looks at you.”

His words fill me with a mixture of disbelief and misery, and a notable absence of happiness. They twist inside me like poisonous vines, racing to see which can reach my heart first.

Because I’m not the solution to Riley’s problems.

I’m the root cause.

Pushing away from the desk, I cast one last glance at the canvas hidden beneath a plastic tarp. Suspicion pulses inside me, and I reach out before Caleb can stop me, ripping the cover away with a single swipe of my hand.

My jaw clenches so hard I can almost feel my teeth cracking. I stare at the white expanse, taking in the soft, feminine lines, the oceanic blue eyes, the pink hair that takes up the sides and top corners.

But there’s no scarring. No imperfections that make it her.

Still, its essence is haunting. Alluringly simplistic, yet somehow bold and intoxicating with its depth.

Pressing my lips together, I turn to look at Caleb. “Not an artist, huh?”

His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t answer. I wonder when the last time he looked at the painting was—last night? Months ago?

The look in his eyes holds the evidence of a recent wound, so it must not have been long.

Sliding my wallet from my pocket, I take the blank checkbook from the back and slide it onto the counter. “I’ll buy it.”





34





Huddling down lower under my covers, I roll to my side, keeping my phone against my ear.

“What do you mean the security people never showed up?”

Kal’s voice is stern, too loud in the dark quiet of my bedroom.

I flex my toes under the mass of blankets on top of me. “No one ever came to install more cameras. I don’t know how to explain that better.”

He sighs, and I hear the fussing of his toddler somewhere in the background. God, it’s weird to imagine that soulless man with a child.

Then again, maybe he’s not totally soulless, if his willingness to help me has been any indication.

Maybe the darkness is a cloak he wears to keep himself safe.

“Why didn’t you tell me this weeks ago?” he asks. “I never got an update from them, so I assumed everything had been set up.”

“I kind of forgot they were supposed to come out.” I’ve been a little occupied.

“Once again, I’m concerned that you’re not taking this seriously.”

“Yes, I am! If anything, you didn’t take it seriously when I first asked for the cameras.”

“And yet, you forgot that they were supposed to be installed? Had the matter been truly as urgent as you made me believe last month, I don’t think I would’ve gone a single day without hearing from you.”