Shooting Scars (The Artists Trilogy #2)

Shooting Scars (The Artists Trilogy #2) Page 12

My eyes flew over to the stove where the bacon was done frying, only a few pops and sizzles accompanying the smell.

He waved his hand in that direction, eyes still glued to the paper. “I wasn’t sure if you were still on a hunger strike, but I made enough. There’s toast as well, one hundred percent whole-grain. It’s supposed to be good for you.” He said this all absently, like he wasn’t secretly hoping I’d eat it. Fuck my own spite this time, hunger was winning out.

I picked up a plate he had left out and started scooping up all the rest of the bacon and eggs, deciding to commit to it. I pressed the pieces of bread into the toaster and attacked the pot of coffee next.

“There’s milk and cream in the fridge,” he said and I could feel him watching me now.

I shrugged and filled my cup, turning around and leaning against the counter. “I take it black now.”

He eyed my pants. “You found your old clothes.”

I nodded and took a sip. It was so strong it was almost poisonous, yet it was exactly what I needed. “I did. Are you going to start an Ellie museum or something?”

I thought that would get a reaction out of him. No such luck. “Glad you’re looking a little more … elegant for our expedition today.”

My body jerked. “Expedition?” I couldn’t be meeting Travis, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready and there was no plan. The thought of seeing him after all these years, never mind the fact that I was supposed to help kill him – an idea that, despite everything, left my heart feeling numb – nearly brought me to my knees.

He raised his brows, still so very expressive. “Don’t worry, my angel, we’re just scoping things out, as you say. I would not throw you in the pool without a noodle.”

I frowned at that phrase, ignoring the tiny twang in my brain that reminded me of how charming I used to find his lapses in the English language, and said, “So what is the plan then? Where’s my … noodle?”

He smiled, too wide for his damn face. “You made a joke? You must be liking it here then.”

“Don’t flatter yourself and get to the point.”

He stroked his chin in one smooth sweep. “Ah. We’re going to take a look at some things.”

“And?”

“That is all.”

At that, the toast in the toaster popped with a loud bang and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Unfortunately, Javier noticed this.

“You seem nervous,” he commented. And to make matters worse, he got out of his chair and took a step toward me. I flattened up against the counter wondering if a coffee pot to the head would be my way out of this. Then he stopped a few feet back, close enough for me to smell his earthy cologne, close enough to grab me if he wanted to, but not close enough to be doing anything wrong. He was good at that, skirting the line between coincidence and intent.

I looked at the toast, sitting just out of reach. To get it I’d have to turn around and I didn’t want my back to him. I could almost imagine his breath at my neck and that wasn’t a good thing.

He smiled softly, following my eyes, then leaned over and plucked the toast out of the toaster, dropping it on my plate. He almost handed the plate to me and then stopped.

“Would you like honey with that?” he said, his eyes blazing into me like the aforementioned sweet.

I managed to shake my head, aware that I wasn’t really breathing. Just go, please, I thought, a strange kind of desperation running through me, that fear I couldn’t place.

Ever observant, he picked up on this.

“You’re trembling,” he said, voice low and smooth and far too familiar to my liking. “Are you afraid, Ellie?”

I could pretend I wasn’t. But Javier liked to make people feel the emotions he thought they should be feeling. In layman’s terms, if I lied, he’d make me afraid.

“Yes, I’m afraid,” I said, averting my eyes. I didn’t want to see his reaction, not the real one deep inside where his soul used to be.

“Of me?”

I nodded, keeping my attention focused on the fridge, the clean chrome, the lack of magnets and calendars and take-out menus. The things that used to be there. Life.

“Why are you afraid of me, Ellie?”

If I told him the truth, that I really didn’t know, he’d make it into something it wasn’t.

“Are you going to kill me?”

His head twitched in surprise. “Is that really what you think?’

I honestly didn’t know, not anymore. I knew he’d keep me around for as long as he needed me but I had no idea what it all meant when this was over. He hadn’t promised me my life yet.

“Other than the fact that you’re an asshole, yes.”

He didn’t seem to get it. “I’m doing this for you,” he said quietly.

“I thought it was for your so-called morals. Your score?” I noticed that the plate in his hand was shaking ever so slightly. Something was happening.

Then it was gone. He swallowed hard. “I guess it’s that then. Either way, I’m not hurting you.”

No, I thought, just Camden and me if I don’t do what you say.

“You did in the car,” I blurted out.

“I did?”

“You grabbed my wrist …”

He was truly puzzled. I was starting to feel like an idiot for having no control of my mouth. So much for being tough as nails.

“Then I am sorry. I didn’t realize you were so delicate. I knew that Eden wouldn’t mind that sort of thing. I could bite her hard enough to draw blood and she liked it.”

He was standing too close to me to be saying those words. I took the plate out of his hand finally, for some action to take, to ignore what he was saying and the visual I had of the two of us, younger and in throws of uninhibited passion.

“That was different,” I managed to say when I found my voice. “I wasn’t the same person back then.”

Javier nodded, his eyes fastened to every inch of my face. “Neither was I. One must wonder if we changed for the better, hmmm?”

“I’d say we barely crawled out of a burning wreckage alive.”

His brows knit together delicately. “I’d say we evolved. We grew stronger.”

I shot him a hard look. “We ruined each other.”

“You see it one way, I see it another. It was good for something. Once upon a time I thought it was good for everything.”

Me too, I thought, then buried it.

He watched me for a few moments, wheels turning behind those hawk eyes. It used to kill me never knowing what he was thinking. Now, I didn’t want to know. Our exchange had got a little too close for comfort.

I still couldn’t rule out the fact that he would never hurt me. Fool me once and all that jazz.

When he was satisfied with his observations, his attention darted over to my plate. “Your bacon is getting cold.”

So it was. And then he left, turning sharply away from me and snapping up the newspaper from the table. He rolled it up as if he was going to punish a bad dog and walked swiftly to the staircase. I had to wonder where he was sleeping, perhaps in the spare bedroom downstairs. Perhaps I was alone here at night.

“When is the expedition?” I called out after him.

He paused and looked like he was going to say something smart-assey when his cell phone rang, a sci-fi type ringtone. He frowned and fished it out.

“Yes?” he said, clearly annoyed already by whoever was calling. He listened and as I moved over to the table with my plate, I watched his face contort in absolute rage, a look that, for all his short-temperedness, I very rarely saw on him. It made me sit down and shut up.

“What do you mean they’re gone?” he practically screamed into the phone. “Did they see her?”

Suddenly he was looking at me and switched to Spanish, lowering his voice as if it took all the effort in the world. It probably did.

Now, Eden White never knew Spanish and Ellie Watt was still pretty rusty at it but she knew some. I couldn’t make out everything he said and I was probably wrong on what I was interpreting anyway, but what I could gather was that it involved me. Or some other woman but I was going to assume it was about me. It was a problem that I was here or someone knew I was here. Not a he, but a group of people it seemed. Of course, that could be more my paranoia talking than my grasp of Spanish.

Suddenly Javier jabbed at his phone and slipped it in his jacket pocket. Javier’s back was to me, which was somehow more frightening because he could be turning into a drug cartel Hulk and I wouldn’t know it until he turned around.

He sighed, loudly, gazing up at the ceiling, his fingers clenching and unclenching. Part of me was happy to see him so pissed off, that things weren’t going his way, the other part was scared. Because he could take it out on me. Because things might have just gotten worse.

I waited there at the table, afraid to eat, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

Finally he turned around, his skin dark red at the temples but otherwise looked calm. He gave me a smile that read false. “Change of plans.”

I raised my brow and remained silent.

“We’re going to Mexico.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

CAMDEN

She was in my dreams again, Ellie. Only this time, the fire that consumed us came from within. I was in a black, cavernous room with no walls, no windows, and a floor made of ebony satin. She was lying at my feet, naked and curled up, sleeping.

Her eyes opened and she saw me. She smiled. I could barely bring my eyes away from her body. She was curved in all the right places, places that felt like home to me, like the area underneath her ass where it melted into her thighs, or where her full breasts swooped up into her soft arms. Her nipple ring sparkled, diamonds now, and I felt myself grow instantly hard, wanting nothing more than to tug at it with my teeth. She groaned with so much pleasure when I had done it before. I’d give anything to hear that sound, even if it wasn’t real.

She turned over onto her back, her breasts inviting me for a taste. Beckoning me with her finger, her sly look almost undid me. I was naked as well, my erection impressive. I’d heard that I was a “big boy” from many women and looming over Ellie like this, seeing the raw hunger in her eyes, the anticipation, I couldn’t have been more grateful. I was petty, even in my dreams.

I dropped down to my knees and crawled over her, pinning her body between my limbs, the contrast of the dark hair of my legs to the milky white of hers, the cherry blossoms more delicate and vibrant than ever. I brushed my cock against the fine hair of her pubic bone, pressing it up against her belly, a heavy weight between us. Her breath quickened, mine deepened. I wanted nothing more than to thrust it inside of her, feel her warmth, her wetness, her tight grip that felt better than heaven.

I reached under her back and with a deft move, flipped her over and pulled her up so she was on all fours, back arched, ass widening beneath me. She wiggled it, just slightly, and the sight nearly made me come. I was a hair trigger.

I licked my fingers, then trailed them down the slit of her ass, feeling her pucker before dipping them down into the lake of her cleft. She was so fucking wet, so wet for me. I drew the moisture up and swirled my finger into her, one then two. I hadn’t known Ellie long enough in an intimate way to know if she was into anything anal. But it was a dream and I didn’t care. I’d have my way with her and she’d love it.