by M. L. Ray
Knox shook his head. “No. This is a time for our family to grieve together.”
Anouk drew in a deep breath. “Knox, you’re exhausted, devastated. Don’t push me away right now.”
“I’m completely in my right mind, thank you,” he said stiffly. “We don’t need you here right now. We need each other, not outsiders.”
His words were like daggers in her heart. “You don’t want me?”
He looked at her then, and in his eyes, she saw nothing but blind pain. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t want you here right now.”
And he turned on his heel and went back into the house.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Anouk let the phone ring for a good two minutes before she gave up. Knox wasn’t picking up, and she didn’t know whether he was just ignoring her, or everyone else, as well.
She thought she had a good idea though. No luck, she texted to Flynn, who replied immediately with a ‘rolling eyes’ emoji.
Don’t give up on him. He’s just throwing his toys out of the pram. Boys. Love you.
Anouk felt slightly comforted. Love you too, Flynniepoo.
Ha, ha. Flynniepoo? Nice one, Nookie. Xx
Anouk smiled. Flynn had been her only lifeline in the week since Knox had sent her away. Tomorrow, Gregory Zapata would be buried, and there was no way Anouk wasn’t going to be there for the Zapata children.
Iris had been wonderful, welcoming Anouk back into her home without question, even though Anouk knew she had plenty. But Anouk had no answers for her, even if she had asked. She didn’t know if she and Knox had broken up, or whether he just needed some space. She was getting tired of living out of a hurriedly packed hold-all, and last night, she’d gone back to the studio to get some fresh clothes. The studio was in darkness, and there was no evidence that Knox had been there. Walking alone through the darkened building, Anouk had finally let her façade crack, and she sat down on the steps to the apartment and cried until she was exhausted. Iris had seen her tear-stained face when she returned to St Anne’s, and had hugged her for hours.
But now, Anouk had had enough. Her home was in the studio, and so she told Iris she was going back to the studio. Iris had approved. “Good. Don’t let him push you away. He’ll regret it in the end.”
Last night had been the first night she’d spent alone there, and it had been strange, and lonely, and heart-breaking. Today, however, she felt stronger. She’d called Knox to tell him she was back at the studio, but he hadn’t picked up. So, she’d sent a text to Flynn, who’d soon gotten back to her. I think he’s hermiting. Give him time. I’ll tell him about the studio.
Anouk sat back in her office chair. She’d decided to come into the gallery, get on with her life, with making sure Tom’s legacy was honored. Ruby kept bringing her hot coffee and pastries, her young face full of concern for her boss. Anouk called her in.
“Hey, Rube, take a seat.”
Ruby grinned a little nervously. “Ruh-roh.”
“Nothing to be scared of. Quite the opposite. Listen, I’ve talked to Sam Granger at length about what we discussed, and he loves the idea. He’s going to come into the gallery in a few days. He wants to meet you, but from what I’ve told him, he’s very keen on you being our first scholarship recipient.”
Ruby’s face had gone scarlet and her eyes filled with tears. “Wow,” was all she could croak out and Anouk chuckled.
“Ruby, I’m not doing you any huge favor here. You hard work, your dedication to the gallery, to your studies… I spoke to the Dean of the college, too. You’re in the top five of your class. You have one-hundred percent attendance, both here and at the school. The gallery is lucky to have you.”
Ruby swallowed hard and smiled, even though Anouk could see she was trembling. “You don’t know what this means to me.”
“I think I do. Now, having said all of that… it also means you, yourself have a responsibility.”
“I’ll never leave the gallery,” Ruby interjected quickly, but Anouk held up her hand.
“Ruby, one day I hope you do. I want to see you running your own gallery. But that’s not what I meant. You will be the first recipient, which means you set the benchmark. I’m going to ask a lot of you, but I have no doubt you will rise to the challenge.”
Ruby nodded her head. “I won’t let you down.”
Anouk grinned. “I know that, Rube. Congratulations.” She felt a little weird shaking Ruby’s hand, but it also felt like something positive for a change. She laughed, then hugged Ruby tightly. “You have no idea how important you are to me, Rube. No idea.”
“Right back at you, dude.” Ruby sounded like she would burst into tears at any moment, but she also laughed. “Guess I should stop calling you dude, then.”
“No, don’t, I like it.” Anouk released her, grinning. “Now, why don’t we discuss details.”
Ruby refused to leave the gallery while Anouk was still working, and so it was almost seven p.m. when she came to find Anouk. The gallery was open until nine today, so Anouk wasn’t surprised to see her. “Nook, there’s a guy downstairs asking to see you. He says he just wants a quick word.”
Anouk didn’t need to ask her who it was. Shawn was waiting near the entrance to the gallery. He seemed nervous. “Hi, Nook.”
“Shawn. How’s the ear?”
“Productive.” He turned his head so she could see the bruising. “But it’s getting better.”
Anouk kept her voice calm. “What can I do for you, Shawn?”
“Nothing, I promise. I just wanted to drop by to see if you were okay after the other day. The incident in the hospital.”
“I’m fine, thank you. I hope you didn’t suffer any further injury.” God, she had trouble keeping her tone even. She hated that Shawn even knew Knox’s name, let alone have a grudge against him.
“I didn’t. I understand the situation was… I understand why he did it.” Shawn gave her a lop-sided smile. “Heightened tension and all that.”
She nodded. She really didn’t want to discuss Knox with Shawn. In no way. “Listen,” he said, glancing around, “I don’t suppose I could take you for a coffee? You look tired.”
“I’m sorry,” she said smoothly, “I have to work, and Knox will expect me at home.”
Was it her imagination or did Shawn smirk slightly? “Of course. Just an idea. I’ll see you around, Nook.”
“Goodbye, Shawn.”
She watched him walk out of the gallery, turn to wave before he disappeared into the Seattle night, and she heaved a sigh, both of relief and of annoyance. Shawn was clearly not going to keep away from her, but right now, it felt like she didn’t have the energy to fight him.
When she went home to the studio, she didn’t bother to turn the lights on in the studio, and when she got to the apartment, she made herself a bowl of soup, ate it quickly, then showered and went straight to bed. She tried to concentrate on her book, but kept glancing every few moments at her phone, waiting for it to light up with a call.
She fell asleep just after midnight. Her dreams were fractured, nightmarish, images of death, of blood, of abandonment. She woke in the early hours, sweating and gasping for air, emerging from a suffocating dream that left her trembling and distressed. She stumbled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face, and sitting down on the edge of the tub to calm herself.
It’s just a dream, you idiot. Just a freaking dream.
She sat there until she had calmed herself, then went to make some tea. The studio echoed with silence. She took her tea and went to sit on her favorite place, on the steps to the studio. She couldn’t help but remember the night Knox had painted her, the way they had made love so freely, with no inhibitions. Anouk refused to believe that life was no longer possible, that Gregory’s death had changed Knox so entirely in just one day. No. She had to believe that he loved her, that he was hurting, that because of his past, he was just keeping her at arm’s length.
He did
love her still… right?
Anouk pushed that thought aside. It was obvious she wasn’t going to get any sleep now. Instead, she went down into the studio, flicking all the lights on, hauling out a bucket which she filled with hot, soapy water and scrubbing the floors of the studio, the work tables. She stacked the finished canvases neatly against one wall, left the unfinished ones on the easels. Whether Knox wanted his studio tidied or not, it became like an imperative to Anouk now. She tidied the paints, cleaned his brushes, scrapped up any paint that had spattered on the stone floor.
She lost hours cleaning, but when she glanced up, finally, it was still dark. She could hear the distant rumble of thunder, the insistent beat of rain outside. Thoroughly exhausted, she dumped her cleaning equipment in one corner of the studio, and went to flick off all the lights. As she did, she stifled a scream. Outside the window, someone was watching her. A woman, whose pale lank blonde hair fell in wet strands around her shoulders, and whose gaze was pinpointed directly at Anouk.
Martha Simon.
***
Flynn Zapata had had enough. She walked through the silent corridors of the Zapata mansion, looking for her elder brother, ready to give him hell. The funeral was tomorrow and Knox had practically left all the arrangements to Levi, who was dropping with exhaustion. After Levi had almost fallen asleep over the delicious coq au vin Daisy had made for their supper, Flynn had steered him to bed, with orders not to show his face until the morning.
She found Knox in their father’s bedroom, sitting in the easy chair next to the window. She stood in the doorway, watching him until he noticed she was standing there.
“Oh, hey.”
“Hey. So, did you want me to get your widow’s weeds out for tomorrow or what?”
Knox blinked. “Huh?”
Flynn sighed. “You’re acting like you’re the only one who lost someone. Levi and I lost our Dad, too, and while I don’t want to point out the obvious…”
“You were a lot closer to him than I have been in the past few years.” Knox finished her sentence. “I know. That’s the problem.”
Flynn went to sit on her dad’s bed. It still smelled of his expensive cologne and his favorite soap, and she felt a wave of sadness come over her. “Knox… I need you. Levi needs you. Anouk—remember her? —needs you. What we don’t need is this weepy emo boy. Hell, if you can’t even bother to put guyliner on…”
Knox’s mouth twitched. “Stop trying to make me laugh. I’m wallowing.”
“Ain’t that the truth. Look, it’s horrible. Dad had years left, or so we thought, years to make good on past mistakes that we all made. But the fact is, none of us can control when we go. You know that better than anybody.”
Knox nodded. “I feel useless.”
“So do we all, because to be honest, in the face of this, we are useless. All we can do is mourn Dad, and then live our best lives to honor him.” She studied her brother. “Nook’s been trying to call you all day. She moved back to the studio.”
“She did?”
“Yes. And so should you. You need her, Knox—”
“—don’t you think I know that? I need her too much. I just can’t risk—” he turned to Flynn then. “What if something happened to Anouk? This psycho ex of hers… what if he goes after her?”
“Is that likely? Seems to me he’s had ample opportunity to get to her.”
“He might have killed Tom Granger.”
Flynn frowned. “But for what reason? He couldn’t have thought that would help his case? What was the motive?”
“I don’t know.”
Flynn sighed. “Even if he is a psycho, that doesn’t mean anything will happen to Nook. And besides, are you going to live your life alone and heartbroken because someone might die? Here’s a spoiler. We all die. Some of us sooner than others.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Dude, I have cancer. It’s a real possibility, and unless you have some secret treatment you’ve not shared with the world, whether I live or die is completely out of our hands. Anouk will be fine. Can you honestly imagine your life without her now?”
Knox stared at his sister without answering the question. Flynn sighed. “Because I can tell you now, Levi and I refuse to go along with it. As far as we are concerned, Nook is our sister, our family. You love her. Get off of your ass and go get her.”
Knox shook his head. “I can’t. Not yet. I just can’t.”
“You’ll see her tomorrow regardless.”
“Then I’ll see her tomorrow.”
Flynn shrugged, giving up. She knew Knox well enough now to know how stubborn he could be, and she didn’t want to push it any further. “Fine. Look, I’m bushed.”
“You feeling okay?”
She smiled slightly. “I’m good. Just tired. Goodnight.”
“Night.”
Knox waited until Flynn had closed the door behind her before taking out his cell phone. All day he’d been typing text messages to Anouk, then deleting them before sending them.
I’m sorry.
I love you.
I was wrong.
Please don’t leave me…
But he didn’t send any of them. He kept seeing the look of devastation on Anouk’s lovely face when he’d sent her away. The broken trust. She had been his rock, but he hadn’t wanted to be tethered, hadn’t wanted to feel looked after, comforted, loved at that moment. He lashed out—again. And he’d hurt her—again.
That accidental blow in the hospital elevator haunted him. It was dumb, he knew. Anouk hadn’t taken it as anything more than a mistake, but at the moment, Knox felt as if he couldn’t be trusted around her. He would either take his grief out on her, or smother in his desperation not to lose someone else he loved. Either way, the consequences would be terribly destructive to their relationship.
But he couldn’t wait to see her in the morning. He didn’t know how he would make it through the funeral without her, and that was another fucking contradiction, he thought to himself. What did he want?
Knox opened a fresh message, typed in her name… and then deleted it again. Frustrated with himself, he switched his phone off and went to bed.
***
Anouk stared at Martha Simon, wondering why she was just standing in the rain. Anouk moved towards the window and Martha didn’t move, didn’t look away. Anouk went to the door. Afterward, she couldn’t believe she opened it, but she did. “Come inside. You’re getting soaked. You’ll get sick.”
Her tone was flat and dead, but Martha Simon did as she asked, stepping into the studio. “I just want to talk to you.”
“Fine but you need to get out of those wet clothes. Come with me.”
She led Martha up the stairs to the apartment and to the bathroom. She cranked on the shower to hot, and found some towels and a robe for Martha to wear. “I’ll put your clothes in the dryer. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Again, there was no friendliness in her voice, and as she walked to the kitchen and put a pot of water on to boil, she wondered what the hell she was doing, letting this woman into her home. Shawn had told her that Martha had murdered her own children to get back at him. So, she’d have no hesitation in killing her love rival, but somehow, seeing Martha standing out in the rain, looking so pathetic, so bedraggled, Anouk couldn’t feel anything but pity for the other woman. Still, she slipped a fruit knife into the pocket of her robe, just in case.
She slipped Martha’s wet clothes into the dryer, noticing that while she had looked like a bedraggled rat, her clothes were all designer. That surprised her. Shawn hadn’t been rich in any sense, so she wondered where the clothes came from. The quality of them was obvious, so they weren’t fake duds. Anouk didn’t care much about high-fashion, but even she recognized that these were custom-made by the world’s best designers.
“Good clothes last a lifetime, don’t you think?”
Anouk started, and shoved the clothes into the dryer, somewhat g
uiltily. “I wouldn’t know.” She stood up and faced Martha Simon. “I hope the dryer is okay.”
Martha shrugged. “I don’t much care anymore. They’re old, anyhow.” She smiled ruefully. “Sorry, that sounded so flip. What I mean is, what do clothes matter?”
Anouk didn’t know how to answer that. She handed Martha a mug of hot coffee and motioned to a chair. Martha murmured her thanks and took a long sip of the hot drink. “God. Thank you, I needed that.”
Anouk sat down opposite her, her body tense, although she had the feeling Martha was as lost as she felt. “Why are you here?”
Martha took another sip, looking at her over the rim of her cup. She set it down before she answered. “I’m here… to warn you. About Shawn.”
Anouk sighed. “He’s all yours, Martha. I don’t want him.”
“No, not like that. Believe me, I don’t want him either.” A strange look passed over her face. “I didn’t want him in the beginning, either, when he first met me. But somehow, he convinced me that I was in love with him. He’s very…”
“Manipulative.”
“Yes.” Martha smiled softly. “Manipulative… and psychotic.”
Anouk swallowed, but didn’t show any emotion. “He says the same thing about you.”
“So, you’ve seen him here? Funny, I thought you’d refuse to see him.”
Anouk felt her face flush. “I… didn’t seek him out.”
“Let me guess. He just showed up. First time, maybe he scared you, but then he made himself known in situations where you couldn’t make a fuss. Like he wasn’t there to see you, it was just coincidence?”
Anouk remembered the scene at the hospital and flinched. Martha saw it. “Right.”
Anouk felt unreasonably irritated at the other woman being right. “Your children…”
“I didn’t kill them.” Martha’s eyes were earnest now, and the grief in them was hard to look at. “I don’t know how he did it, whether he paid someone to do it, but Shawn is the one who killed them.”