did it sound like she was daring me to do something about it?
Another deep sigh sounds behind me.
“The way I see it, you have three things you need to do immediately.”
My brow arches, but I don’t ask. He tells me anyway.
“First, you can turn off this fucking music. Either you enjoy listening to dying cats, or you’re trying to depress me so much I put a gun in my mouth to make it end.”
My lips curl. He’s right. Damien Rice’s Cheers Darlin’ is playing now. Not that I’d intended to listen to a song so on point it was almost cruel. I’d just turned on a playlist Adeline often listened to during the past few years in order to fill the silence.
Twisting around, I grab the remote to the stereo and shut the shit off.
“Thank you. Now what you need to do is get rid of the shrine you’ve turned your penthouse into. To say this is creepy as fuck is an understatement.”
I turn, my eyes sweeping over the piano in the center of the room, the polished cello in its stand in a nearby corner.
Beyond that were the photographs, a series of shots I knew Adeline had worked on for weeks. Each one is a window into her mind, the fortune I paid for them a small price for the true value of the shots.
Lincoln studies the photos as well, his voice drifting into my thoughts. “I’ll admit she’s talented. Although, just as creepy as you.”
Settling my gaze on one particular photo, the corner of my mouth curls.
It’s my favorite of the series: Adeline lying in bed, a formless shadow standing over her, watching. The casual observer would see a threat in the dark presence, would believe disaster lurked. But I know the truth of that photo, understand that the only thing protecting her is an unseen force that she somehow knows is always close.
Mirroring my thoughts, Lincoln’s voice grabs my attention.
“It’s almost as if she knew we were there.”
I turn to see Lincoln is staring at the same photo. And while I agree Adeline sensed something, I don’t think it was Lincoln’s presence that haunted her.
Muted noise from outside grabs my attention, and I look down to the cathedral, a flash of white coming through the front doors becoming a vise strangling my heart.
“You need to get back to your old life, Ari. Take a contract or ten. Earn a shit ton of money while forgetting about her.” He laughs. “Hell, killing someone might be good for you.”
My eyes lock on Adeline’s new husband. “It’s not a bad idea.”
His quiet laughter shakes me to the core.
“Not him.” A pause, the silence pregnant with everything Lincoln doesn’t need to say. “You let this happen, remember? We both know the life you live isn’t good for her. It never will be.”
Swallowing the rest of my drink, I set the glass on a nearby table and force myself away from the window.
“You’re right.”
“I know I am. And since it’s been six fucking years, apparently, another thing your need to do is get your dick wet. We should go out and celebrate the monster’s wedding tonight. Get you back into the swing of things.”
Moving in front of mirror to button my shirt, I try not to notice the shadows beneath my eyes. I don’t need much sleep, but I spend too much time awake during the late night hours watching a woman I can never have.
“I said I haven’t had a woman up here for six years, not that I’ve gone without sex that entire time.”
“Dirty alleys behind bars?”
I glance over my shoulder at him.
“Better than bringing them here and dealing with expectations after.”
“I hear you. Then a bar, it is. Are you driving or am I?”
My hand stills where I’d been tucking my shirt into my pants.
“I’m not in the mood to go out.”
I know the minute his baritone laugh filters through the room that he will drag me out regardless.
. . .
Dulcetta is in full swing by eleven tonight. An upscale club, it caters to the wealthy, the powerful, the elite. Every inch of this place screams money, a redwood bar curved like a woman’s form against two walls, brass rails polished to a perfect shine.
Above our heads, accent lights dance against crystal embellishments, the shadowed ambiance an accessory against the croon of a Jazz band and the low, soulful voice of its female singer.
People mill about with drinks in their hands, the men in suits, the women in revealing