by C. Luca
“That must be difficult. I can’t imagine what that must be like,” I murmur.
His eyes return to the canvas, and silence fills the studio as he works. I don’t think he’s going to respond to my comment, so I glance at my hand resting on my lap and hope that I hadn’t said anything wrong.
“It’s not easy,” he says at last, eyes still focused on his work. “Corbin doesn’t bother me, because he’s a corporate shark and has no interest in anything other than business.” His lips tilt downwards. “It’s picking up the pieces behind Brick, Knight, and Oliver that piss me off,” he confesses.
“Oliver seems to have a good head on his shoulders,” I offer, trying to say something positive.
Nathan’s eyes lift to mine as he seems to pause. “Tell that to my accountant when he questions if I really bought another car, or if I was intentionally ordering thousands of dollars worth of video games, movies, and a ton of other shit that teenagers are into these days.”
“He doesn’t know?” I ask lightly.
He shakes his head and returns to painting. “It’s a secret we keep close.”
A natural silence falls over us, and for a while, he works while I mentally go over everything he’s told me. I’m intrigued by Nathan, I truly am. I wish I could know more.
“You don’t seem bothered by it,” Nathan comments, breaking the silence.
“By what?” I ask.
He doesn’t look at me as he concentrates on the canvas. “My disorder.”
“It’s different,” I admit, “but certainly not off-putting.”
His eyes flicker to mine, and they tighten in the corners. “We both know Brick’s an issue.”
“Perhaps if he’d been attacking me without reason,” I agree. “But he wasn’t. He was protecting you and the others in the only way he apparently knows.”
Nathan pauses and studies me. “He still hurt you.”
“He did, but it’s in the past.”
“Until he appears again,” he counters.
“I’ll deal with it when it happens.”
He gazes at me silently for a long moment, and then his eyes drop back to his work.
Silence stretches and so do the minutes.
I roll my head, loosening my neck where the muscles have gone stiff. It’s not as easy as I’d thought sitting in one spot for a long period of time.
“You can take a break whenever you want,” Nathan offers.
“I’m fine.” It’s nice spending time with him.
“Can you tilt your head to the left a little?” he asks.
I move my head. “Like that?”
“Too much.”
I shift my head. “Better?”
He sets the paintbrush down and comes around the easel to walk over to me. He reaches for my face and then hesitates. “May I?”
“Go ahead.”
His warm hands gently frame either side of my jaw, tilting my head the way he wants—his face inches from mine as he leans over me. His eyes suddenly connect with mine, and this close, I feel like I could get lost in them.
My breath hitches over his closeness.
Nathan seems to become aware of it as well, and his eyes search mine before he slowly closes the gap and touches his lips to mine.
The first touch of his lips has me melting into a puddle of hormones as I part my lips and let him deepen the kiss. The velvety warmth of his tongue explores my mouth caressingly. Every move is unhurried, and yet the anticipation is intensifying.
We both hear the studio door open, and I quickly break the kiss and put distance between us.
“Nathan—shit. Sorry,” Griffin says with sincere regret from the doorway.
Nathan scowls at him as he straightens and backs away from me. “What have I said about interruptions?”
“Your uncle—”
“Is right here,” Nathan’s uncle says as he steps around Griffin and enters the room. His eyes focus on me, and the look in them leaves no doubt in my mind that he’s displeased by the kiss he’d just witnessed.
“Excuse me,” I say quickly as I hop off the stool and hurry out of the room.
Griffin immediately follows, closing the door.
Before he can say anything about what he’d walked in on, I hurry off to busy myself with preparing lunch.
SIXTEEN
Nathan
I’m not sure who I’m more annoyed with. Griffin for interrupting the unexpected kiss, or my uncle for his rotten timing.
“You’ve been avoiding my calls,” he states.
Momentary guilt forms. This man had raised me—along with the help of two of his ex-wives—and wife number three is currently twenty years his junior, and has only wanted what’s best for me. I should make more of an effort to see him, but it’s hard when our conversations continuously revolve around my DID or the company—both subjects I prefer to avoid.
“Not intentionally,” I lie. “I’ve been working on my paintings and the days have run together.”
He eyes me with visible scrutiny. “You’re certain your art is all that has you distracted?”
He’s referring to Elena, but I don’t owe him explanations. I’m a grown adult and can make my own choices. “What brings you by?” I ask, switching the subject.
He begins walking around the studio, and he pauses by the masquerade painting of Elena and looks at it critically.
I’m proud of my work, but I know he doesn’t understand my creativity. He thinks my painting is a waste of time and considers it a hobby of sorts.
He turns to face me. “We need to discuss the incident at the club that led to your night in jail.”
“Not me, Knight,” I correct.
“Knight is still you, Nathan.”
I don’t bother correcting him. This is an old argument. He doesn’t understand my DID, and I don’t expect him to. Hell, I struggle enough with it, and it’s happening to me.
“There are mumblings amongst the board members.”
I turn and pick up a couple of discarded paintbrushes and take them over to the sink to rinse them. I doubt I’ll be painting anymore this afternoon. These conversations always sap the energy from me. “There’s always talk, that’s nothing new.”
“Nathan, if any of your alters make any moves that could be construed as sexual misconduct or assault, it leaves you open to being sued, and that would affect the company. Allegations can tank a reputation and business. Investors could pull out, and we could lose customers, and therefore sales.”
Same old shit, different day. “Knight’s a hothead, but he isn’t stupid,” I say, annoyed that I have to defend the bastard.
“You need to find a way to rein him in.”
I grind my teeth together and set the rinsed paintbrushes in the bottom of the sink. I have no fucking control over my alters, how many times do we have to have this conversation?
“Look Nathan, maybe it’s time you try therapy once more,” he suggests.
I turn to face him. “Because third time’s the charm, right?” I ask dryly.
He sighs. “I know how you feel about therapy, but I think it would be wise.”
“I’m doing fine, William.”
“You are, but those alters…” He rubs a hand over his jaw. “What if one of them is caught on tape making a comment that could be misconstrued? This is the era where freedom of speech can cause immense backlash. Whether you like it or not, you’re under a microscope as the main shareholder. We should take initiative before a scandal can unfold.”
I gaze at him, not the slightest bit swayed by his argument. “What makes you think this conversation is going to be any different than the last?”
“The company is growing, Nathan. The net worth—”
“I’m aware,” I cut in.
His lips tighten as his gray eyes sharpen. “Your father—”
“Isn’t up for discussion,” I cut in once more. I won’t discuss the man who’d taken my mother and brother’s life.
He falls quiet as sympat
hy appears in his somber gaze. “Son, I know life has been tough, but therapy can help. It’s proven incredibly helpful in other cases, and integration—”
“Enough,” I cut in, my voice full of steel. I can’t stand the pity in his gaze. “Call it a day,” I say coolly.
He studies my expression and nods, knowing he’s pushed too hard. “I’ll check in with you in a few days.”
I say nothing as he leaves the studio, closing the door behind him.
As soon as I’m alone, I rake a hand through my hair with frustration. People seem to think that integration will be inevitable. I don’t think that will ever happen for me. Do I want all the alters to merge into one solid personality—me, I don’t know. Can I live with my alters the rest of my life? I don’t know that, either.
Yeah, life fucking sucks some days, but it’s still been better once I quit trying to do what everyone wanted and dropped the useless therapy. Talking to a therapist just wasn’t something that I was capable of dealing with, and I still don’t think I am. If anything, it just makes everything worse.
My thoughts shift to Elena.
She’s so damn real, and there’s this odd connection that’s developing between us. The more she’s around, the stronger it’s becoming. When I look into her eyes, it’s as if I can see right into her soul. I recognize something in those depths, a bleakness and anguish that I can relate with.
She doesn’t look at me like others have in the past. She doesn’t look at me with confusion, pity, and uncertainty. Nor does she try to analyze or grill me over why I’m the way that I am.
Like Cameron and Griffin, she just seems to roll with the punches and take each day as it comes.
I like that.
I respect it.
That kiss was fucking hot.
It’s been a while for me, probably too damned long since I’ve shared any part of myself with the opposite sex. It just seemed like too much work hiding the truth, and with Knight being the manwhore that he is, I’ve given up on the idea of ever having a meaningful relationship with anyone.
Part of me wants to explore things with Elena. Her past doesn’t matter to me. The problem is that she’s an employee. After her experience with her old employer, the last thing she needs is me making moves on her.
For the first time in a long-damned time, I have a dilemma that doesn’t revolve around my alters.
SEVENTEEN
Elena
Late that evening, I’m watching the sunset from the patio as I pull together my thoughts on the kiss. It’s been in the back of my mind all day, and it’s still weighing on me. It was by far one of the best kisses I’ve ever experienced, and my body warms as I recall it.
It’s strange knowing that I’ve been kissed by the same mouth twice, but by two very different men within that body. Knight’s kisses are bold and hot, like he’d like to inhale me and let us burn together. Nathan, on the other hand, is just as intense, but the kiss had been slower, deliberate, almost like a seduction.
I blow out a breath and try to shake out of my reverie. There’s a longing inside me for both men, but the sensible side of me is quick to remind that they’re my employers. And secondly, I’m trying to prove that I’ve left the past behind.
It doesn’t matter how sexy or tempting they might be, I promised myself that I wouldn’t give my body casually anymore. I’m still struggling with everything I’ve done, and the more I give away of myself, the less I have to keep.
Somehow, I need to learn to trust my instincts and find my self-worth. How am I supposed to find it if I’m sleeping with my employer? If anything, I’d just be repeating my mother’s mistake, and my chest tightens.
God, I miss her.
Her death stole a piece of my heart that will forever remain empty.
As I gaze at the sinking sun, I acknowledge that life hasn’t been easy, but I’m determined to overcome it. At least I’m on the right track thanks to Knight. And Nathan. Deep within me, there’s hope that hadn’t been there a few short weeks ago.
I hear movement and look up.
Nathan’s approaching. “I thought I’d find you out here.” He nods to the opposite lounger. “Mind?”
“Please,” I say with a genuine smile. My heart quickens as I think of the kiss we’d shared, but I shove the memory aside.
He sits down and hands me a small, laminated card. “I probably should have given you one earlier,” he says lightly.
I accept it and find that it’s an ID of some sort. My photo is on it, with my name and the estate address. A barcode is located on the back.
“That’ll get you in and out of the gates without anyone having to be called,” he explains.
My heart soars when I realize I’ve earned his, Cameron, and Griffin’s trust. “Thank you,” I say with a smile.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says quietly.
I’m chagrined he’s apologizing for the kiss, but I was kind of expecting it. The kiss had taken me by surprise, and I’m certain he was caught off guard by the unexpected moment as well. “It shouldn’t have happened,” I agree. “I want you to know that I’ll work on my professionalism. This job is my only priority,” I insist.
His brows lower into a frown. “I was apologizing for the interruption, Elena. Not the kiss.”
“Ohhhh,” I say softly, the word drawn out as I realize I’ve just put my foot in my mouth.
Nathan is silent a moment, studying my expression. “There’s obviously an attraction between us.”
I pull myself together and look at him steadily. “I can still remain professional.”
An awkward silence falls across us. He visibly has more on his mind, but instead of voicing his thoughts, he nods. “We’ll move on from it,” he agrees.
“Thank you,” I say with relief.
He gives me an odd look. “I would never hold it against you. You know that, right?”
I avert my gaze, because as much as I think I’m getting to know him, the truth is, he could. Many others have.
“I made the first move, Elena,” he reminds.
I look up and nod. I want to believe him, I really do.
Nathan, sensing that it’s difficult for me to believe in others, continues speaking, “We’ve become friends, at least that’s the conclusion I’ve come to. It’d be nice to remain that way.”
That brings a genuine smile to my lips. “I’d like that.”
“Good.”
A brief contented silence fills the air until I break it. “How did things go with your uncle?”
He grimaces. “Same old shit.” His gaze shifts to the setting sun. “After Knight’s trip to jail, he’s pushing for therapy.”
I recall my conversation with Cameron. “I take it that’s an old argument?”
“Yeah. I’ve tried therapy twice, and it didn’t go well either time.” He glances at me. “Integration supposedly fixes the issues of having alters, and life gets easier, or so I’m told. I can’t deny that it’s tempting, but getting to that point…” He shakes his head. “It’s just not for me. At least not at this point in my life.”
I nod so that he knows I have somewhat of an idea about what he’s telling me.
“You’ve researched DID, haven’t you?” he guesses.
“I have.”
“Then you know that integration doesn’t always last, either.”
“Each case is unique,” I agree.
His lips tighten. “The torture of going through therapy isn’t worth the integration.”
I look at him sadly and reach out to touch his forearm. “Sometimes, reliving the past can cause more torment than healing.”
Something shifts in his gaze as he looks at me.
Feeling vulnerable, I remove my hand and look out at the view, watching as the sun begins to slowly disappear.
“You make it easy.”
My gaze drags back to his, eyes questioning.
“To share my thoughts,” he clarifies. “I typically keep to myself, and the more some
one asks me questions, the more I retreat.”
I smile, thrilled that he feels he can trust me with his thoughts. “You’re easy to talk to, too.”
His lip quirks. “That’s the first anyone has ever said anything of the likes to me.”
“They’re missing out,” I say simply.
He studies me. “You think?”
“Definitely. You’re worth getting to know, Nathan.”
“So are you, Elena.”
* * *
Four days later, I’m making breakfast and waiting for Corbin to make his appearance. Nathan had warned me that he’s supposed to attend a meeting today at the corporate offices, and that Corbin would be taking over.
With my good hand, I carefully use the spatula to flip the French toast before I set it down to make sure the coffee is percolating. Nathan isn’t much of a coffee drinker, but evidently Corbin is. The last time he’d appeared, it had been his only request.
Earlier, Griffin had tried to help me prepare breakfast, but I’d shooed him out of the kitchen. He still hasn’t brought up the kiss he’d witnessed, and I’m thankful for that. I’m sure it’ll eventually be brought up, but for now, I’m not going to worry over it.
Nerves flutter in my stomach.
I’m nervous, but not because of Corbin. My eyes slide to the simple, leather bound journal that I’d bought the other day. I want to somehow make life easier for Nathan and his alters. They’ve been sharing one body for years without really forming any kind of connection with one another. I’m hoping the journal will help them bridge that barrier. That way Nathan won’t have to find out from others what his alters have been up to.
I look up as Corbin enters the kitchen. He’s dressed in a navy, business suit that looks tailor-made for his body, and he’s wearing his usual wire-rimmed glasses. It’s so weird seeing Nathan’s face but knowing it’s Corbin. He gives me a slight nod in greeting.
I’m already retrieving a coffee mug and carefully pouring coffee into it. As Corbin sits down at the island, I set the coffee in front of him.
He nods his appreciation as he takes a drink from the cup and opens the tablet he’d brought with him. Then, he glances my way and skims the cast with his eyes. “Accident?” he questions.