It was magnificent, as if the man stared right into the depths of your soul. Wet strands of hair hung down the sides of his deep cheekbones with one teardrop pooling in his left eye. The brush strokes were bold, and at the same time, the subtle mixing had softened the course roughness of his features.
“That’s Balen. Danni used to paint him all the time. Long story,” Delara said. “She’s a brilliant artist.” Delara tugged me further into the gallery. “Hey, Danni? You here?”
A crash sounded behind the end wall with the portrait on it and a giggle followed. An orange cat careened around the corner, slid into an easel, and made a dash for a window where he leapt up onto the ledge and sat peering outside.
“Stop, Balen,” a girl said.
I heard a light slap, and then a petite woman emerged while readjusting her clothes. She was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a pink T-shirt that had numerous red and brown paint splatters. Her auburn hair was curled up around a pencil, revealing an oval face, which sported a blush on both cheeks.
“Delar, hey,” she said.
Delara put her hand lightly on my lower back. “Danni, this is Rayne.”
Danni stepped forward and immediately offered her hand. “Hi, nice to meet you. I just heard from Anstice. She said you’re going to share the apartment. That’s amazing.”
I heard footsteps come up from behind the half-wall and looked over her shoulder.
“And this is my other half, Balen,” Danni said.
The man in the painting. Holy shit. He looked even better in real life.
He was tall with tattoos running down his left arm to his elbow and muscled, but not bulky, kind of like Kilter in stature.
He nodded to me then came up behind Danni and put his hands on her hips. She leaned back into him and his arms slid around her waist.
The three chatted for a few minutes while I watched, uncertain what to do. Their conversation flowed easily, like that of old friends. I felt the complete opposite, like a ghost standing in the shadows, alone and with nothing important to say. My experiences were so limited, my life so controlled that attempting to socialize with people was awkward.
“Yeah, sounds good.” Delara nudged my arm with her elbow. “We’ll shower and get settled in first.” She turned back to Danni and Balen. “Let’s say we meet at the pub around two?”
A shower sounded like heaven; going to a pub was more like a nightmare.
Balen swung Danni around in his arms, placing a brief kiss on her lips, then leaned in to her and whispered something in her ear. She smacked him playfully in the chest and he laughed, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Delara whispered, “Balen is Anstice’s brother and what I consider jam—sweet, smooth, and delicious. And he is totally in love with Danni. Come on. I’ll show you the apartment.”
Danni snagged a cell phone from the easel tray where tubes of paint sat, tapped on the screen, and put it to her ear as she called out, “I’m calling Jedrik. He’ll be pissed if we don’t invite him.”
Delara huffed. “Let him be pissed.”
Danni’s brows rose. “You guys fighting?”
Delara shrugged as she urged me to the stairs at the back of the gallery.
The apartment was quaint with warm, inviting soft green walls and a few of Danni’s paintings hanging. But it was the worn furniture and throw blankets and abundance of pillows that I really loved. Nothing really matched, but each piece told a story, had history. It was kind of messy, which I liked, too.
A jacket lay on an old armchair. Worn magazines and books were scattered on the glass coffee table, and two cat dishes sat on the countertop in the kitchen by the old green fridge. Nothing was in order, making it the complete opposite of what Anton liked.
It was perfect.
“Splat, that’s the fat cat, is Danni’s. He lives here as the gallery cat. She tried to take him to their new place, but all he did was cry, so she brought him back. The regular clients of Danni’s bring him treats all the time. You good with cats?”
I had no idea, never had a pet. But he looked cute. “Yeah,” I said.
There were two small bedrooms in the apartment, each with windows. Mine overlooked the back alley, not much to look at, but it had an escape route and I could see the sun, the moon, and the sky. That was more than I’d ever had.
Delara threw a navy blue T-shirt onto the bed. “We’ll go shopping when you’re up to it, but borrow anything of mine until then. You got dibs on the shower. Shampoo and stuff are in there. I have to make a call.”
“Thanks.” I half-smiled and Delara left the bedroom, closing the door.
It felt safe here.
Except one thing was missing, Kilter.
Year 1880
I groaned as my head cleared then pried my eyes open. I was greeted with blackness and the weight of a five-pound steel bucket on my head. I tried to move my arms, but they were chained above my head, and I felt the manacles around my ankles.
What the hell?
I yanked violently on my arms and biting pain shot through my wrists as the shackles cut into my skin. Blood trickled down my arms.