Page 88 of Lady of Darkness
“What is this?” I ask, already suspicious. Taking the key, I place it in the old brass lock. After a click, I push the door open, stiffening when I see what’s inside.
Theo, Gideon, and Sterling are all standing in front of what looks like stacks of shelves, but as I take a step inside, I realize it’s not shelves.
It’s row after row of massive brick walls several feet tall by several feet wide. Row, after row, after row. Beyond that is a wallfullof spray paint–hundredsof cans in all different colors. There are oversized tables with stencils and thin, plastic boards for me to make my own stencils, an industrial sink, and a wall with a couple of aprons and masks hung up. Looking up, I see state-of-the-art ventilation fans whirring. I flick my eyes to the guys as my throat closes up.
“Is this…” I trail off, turning to face Alaric.
He’s leaning against the door. “Surprise.”
“Welcome to your new studio,” Theo says, walking over to where I’m standing. The other guys follow suit.
“There’s even a running trail out back. Alaric brought in a landscaper in case you’d like to do your runs outside. The loop is five miles, but there are over a hundred acres out there to do with what you want.”
I stare at him, shaking my head in shock. “A hundred acres? For me?”
Sterling nods. “This is all for you. Maybe you could build a new house. Open up a B&B. Build a theme park. It’s all yours. We’d give you the fucking world if we could, little monster. Maybe we will one day.”
My eyes prick with tears as my eyes sweep over the studio a second time. The light is incredible because of the massive windows, and it’s so open and airy that I instantly feel inspired.
“This doesn’t replace your street art,” Alaric purrs, wrapping an arm around my side. His fingers sink into my flesh. “But we know you had to give up a prestigious scholarship to stay here, and we wanted to make it up to you. Paint here or out on the street. We don’t give a fuck. We just want you to be happy.”
I swallow my emotion, just barely. On my third glance around, I notice the corner on the right set up with an easel and paints, as well as notebooks for sketching. They thought of everything.
“If there’s anything else you need, we can bring it in,” Gideon adds.
I open and close my mouth. “Can–can I–” I point to the back wall.
“It’s yours,” Alaric says. “You don’t need to ask permission.”
I make my way to the back wall and pick up a can of black paint. Placing it down on the table, I inspect the stencils. I sort through them, grabbing a few for what I need. Then I go to the nearest wall and begin to work. My mind is spinning with ideas, and my hands don’t stop moving for almost an hour. At some point, one of the guys places a mask over my face for safety, but they stand back and watch as I perfect my creation. Pulling my mask off, it hangs at my side as I turn to face the guys.
“What do you think?” I ask, feeling breathless with excitement. “Do you like it?”
Alaric cocks his head and smiles. “Did it ever matter if we liked it, Harlow? The question is, doyoulike it?”
I look back at the painting. It’s a black anatomical heart cut evenly into five sections.
If it all ends in fire, then we will all burn together.
“I do like it,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket and snapping a picture for my Instagram.
“Would you still do it without your fans?” Gideon asks, walking up to the wall and inspecting the paint. He turns to face me with a scrutinizing expression.
I shrug, thinking it over for a moment. “Probably. It became my solace after my mom died.”
He nods and comes closer to me, pulling me in for a kiss. “Then that’s all that matters.”
My heart stutters in my chest as I grab the back of his head and pull him in for another kiss. He moans into my mouth as he grinds himself against me, and that’s all it takes for me to unbuckle his belt.
“Are we doing this here?” he asks smugly.
“Shut up,” I hiss, pressing his body against the wall with the art.
“I don’t want to mess it up–”
“It’s fine. I can make another one. I have the space now.”
His eyes darken as he unbuttons my shirt, pulling it down my arms. Then he kneels, taking my shoes and pants off before hoisting me up and twisting me around so that my back is against the wet paint.
