masquerade ball after all, right?”
I can feel Blaine’s eye roll before I actually see it. River will never let him live it down that Kronin meant that we’d have to dress up.
And as if summoned by my thoughts, River appears by my side and greets our host with one of his trademark scary smiles that don’t reach his eyes. The makeup he has on for his joker costume somehow makes him look even more unhinged and unpredictable but now I know better. I know the depths of this man’s heart and how caring and loving he really is.
I don’t have a problem admitting that at the beginning I was completely terrified of River, aside from the fact that he kept suggesting that the guys should kill me to get away with their botched heist. It was a strange and unnerving mix of fear and attraction but I soon learned that once you get past River’s façade, that couldn’t be anything further from the real him.
River uses his crazy and dangerous persona only to keep the rest of the world at arm’s length and very few people are lucky enough to be allowed to see the real him. But Kronin doesn’t look intimidated by River or by Blaine, who leaves us to go on our private showing of Kronin’s artwork as agreed.
We walk out of the ballroom and down a long corridor that spans the whole length of the yacht. The lighting here is softer than in the room we just left and rather than hardwood, the floors are covered with a thick carpet that muffles the sound of our steps. So when we reach a stairwell that leads to the guest rooms on the top deck or to the crew quarters below deck, I don’t hear the man who’s coming up the same staircase. The stranger is coming up from the lower level and what makes me turn on the way up is the feeling of being watched rather than the sound of his steps.
As soon as I turn, he retreats turning on his heels and disappearing into the belly of the large boat. All I manage to catch is a glimpse of that Phantom of the Opera mask I spotted in the ballroom.
Again, my insides twitch with visceral fear. Pierce. There’s something about the way that guy walks and moves that reminds me of my ex. He’s also the same height and build.
Come on Sloane, get a fucking grip! Pierce is dead and you’re finally free from him, stop letting him keep you captive with a fear that now has no more reason to be. I take a deep breath and rush up the last few steps, following River and Kronin.
I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with me, why all of a sudden I see Pierce everywhere. Is it the relief that I finally can stop running that’s playing with my subconscious? It must be that, I decide. Probably I’ve gotten so used to being on the run, that my mind is struggling with the idea that it’s all over and that once this job is done, my future is just mine to do what I wish with.
We reach Kronin’s private quarters on the upper deck and I’m not surprised to see wild, excessive opulence everywhere I look.
River
I know that if you looked at me, especially until a few weeks ago when my hair was long, but even now, with my tattoos and the way I often dress and act, you’d think I’d be all up in this modern art shit.
And don’t get me wrong, some concepts are interesting to say the least like Kronin’s ‘shit art’ but in reality, the more abstract or weird we go, the less I can relate to it. And isn’t art supposed to make you ‘feel’? So give me the Mona Lisa or David any day over the weird stuff I’m suddenly surrounded with. There’s paintings and sculptures everywhere and while they don’t exactly meet my personal taste, I have to admit that they’re thought provoking.
The paintings are largely abstract and while I’m no expert, they’re pretty unsettling, as if the artist were on a bad drug induced trip when he painted them. The sculptures on the other hand are really wacky. My eye falls on a bronze one that unmistakably portrays an erect dick. It has a feminine hand wrapped around it and I’m kind of mesmerized by the detail of all the veins and ridges and bumps on the shaft.
I know