Another Brush Stroke (The Carnal Exhibitions Book 1)

by Barefoot, LW

  Seth leans in and whispers in my ear, “That’s it Harper, just play along, that’s all this is. You’re doing great. Now give me a natural reaction.”

  His hand slips under the deep V in the front of my dress as he squeezes my breast and bites my neck. I cry out and I’m not the least bit acting. It hurts and I’m positive that’s what he intended. I close my eyes because I’ve seen too much and the cheers from Seth’s blatant display make it worse. Seth’s hand on my stomach moves across to grip my hip and jerks me back against him. And maybe Brad and Seth’s predictions about me passing out were not that far off. I’m so relieved Seth isn’t turned on by this at all.

  When I open my eyes, I see heated contempt play across Evan’s features and my nerves coil tighter.

  Vodka breath drags the woman he slapped away. She’s steady on her feet with her head down, while he stares at us until disappearing through the crowd.

  Evan sits down and takes a woman in his arms. His just fucked hair makes me see red and I want to slap that bitch off his lap. His hands move down her body, cupping her ass to bring her closer to him. I want to scream ‘no’. I need to violently punch someone, preferably both of them. I would happily whip the bastard who wanted to make me cry, who’s going to make that ginger haired girl cry if he hasn’t already.

  The woman eagerly kisses Evan. His eyes find mine, while his lips move over hers. The crowd remains parted for us for me to witness this horror. Seth’s hand moves from my throat to cover my mouth when I let out a painful groan. He must have felt it boiling up.

  Tears roll down my face and I choke on a crazed laugh about how stupid I’ve been. Then I laugh at the fact that tears feed monsters and they’re not only welcome here, but demanded, sought out, and fought over. And mine are basically on tap just waiting to be poured.

  I turn around as war rages inside me. Seth tucks my dress back up and apologizes for everything in hushed tones whispered in my ear. But he’s not the reason I’m upset and he knows it.

  I brace myself against the bar and motion for another drink. I wasn’t going to run back upstairs, I wasn’t going to give any of them that satisfaction. I’m hurt and confused and feel it down to my bones. Evan might be ripping out the worthless remnants of my heart, but he’s not taking my spine with him. I stand on straight, unwavering legs, and take the shot of dark whiskey like a seasoned barfly. It burns wonderfully numb across my tongue. When I look up, Seth studies me like I’m some social experiment. I meet his gaze with eyes so clear there isn’t enough alcohol in the room to cloud them over.

  “Who are you, Harper?” he whispers and I laugh harder at the strange question and even stranger situation.

  “I’m damaged, unwanted goods, who keeps finding herself in one bad situation after the next,” I spit clinking my new finger of whiskey against Seth’s freshly poured one.

  The bartender sets the vintage bottle down in front of us at Seth’s instruction. Minutes pass with my back turned to the room as I consciously shut everything out. Blocking traitorous thoughts and empty gazes.

  Seth and I share the silence between us as I imagine what my night would have been like if I had stayed with a different bottle of liquor and a sweet sleepy bulldog. Would I have heard the moans of ecstasy and screams of lashing pain echo up from the first floor? There was no way I would have been able to avoid coming downstairs and witnessing for myself what was going on. I wonder if I would have smelled another woman on Evan. If I would have noticed when his lips brushed mine if I could detect how swollen they were from someone else’s attention.

  “I keep running into you in the most unlikely places and to be honest, I was hoping you would be here,” a familiar voice says.

  I turn to the left and come face to face with Grayson. Seth pulls me back into his arms in more of a possessive grip than he had when that asshole propositioned for me.

  Grayson lets out a roar of laughter.

  “Wow, sweetheart why in the fuck would you let my ungrateful brother pass you around?”

  His words shock me and shut me the hell up. Grayson just opened the tap on my tears. I thought his all-American good looks were innocent the first night I met him after I got over my knee-jerk reaction of his features. But now I realize, we’ve all been portraying lies and hiding our less than savory truths. Now I know the appeal of masks and dominos.

  There’s nothing gentle in the way Grayson wipes my tears away, as if he finds them offensive and he can’t stand to watch them. Rough fingers scratch underneath my chin as he pulls my head up to look at him.

  “And here I thought you might be someone who threatened everything, only to see you reduced to this,” he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, his lips press in a hard line.

  “Seth, let go of her clearly you’re about to cut off Harper’s air supply.”

  Seth lets me go, but only fractionally. Grayson motions for the bartender to bring another glass for the one person that shouldn’t see me, but then again Evan has a woman on his lap and his tongue down her throat, so this shouldn’t matter. I swallow my rage and curse my trembling lip. I pick up the bottle and pour with a steady grip and I’m proud of myself because my arm doesn’t shake.

  “I should have taken you away from Evan the night we met. You had fire in your eyes and now I’m afraid it’s been snuffed out,” Grayson sees too much. “Do you want me to get you out of here? Because that’s the only thing I want to do right now.”

  “I can’t,” I choke and Seth tenses around me.

  The grip he has around my waist tightens in warning.

  “And why is that?” Grayson asks.

  “Because I’m broken and I have nothing to offer you,” I confess and it’s the God honest truth.

  “Oh, I doubt that very much, beautiful.”

  I shake out of his trance when his phone rings. Grayson glances at the device and as he puts it in his pocket, his eyes move over me. The backlight shines the sincerity in his gaze, but I’m beginning to believe these Hawthorne’s are nothing more than convincing deceivers. He goes to pull me away from Seth until he sees the teethmarks on my throat. With my hair up and off my neck, it appears like I’m showing it off. Disappointment and disgust flood Grayson’s features. His fingers trail to the side of my face and down over the new marks, I panic when his fingertips touch the gold chain around my neck, but Seth pulls me back to him.

  “See, she’s claimed for the night, and we’ve only begun. I’m sure Evan would get a kick out of you taking out the trash after I’m done with her. His bastard brother getting his sloppy seconds yet again. Or would that make you sloppy fifths? I’ve lost count,” Seth says playing along, because he’s lying.

  “Harper, you don’t have to do this. Fuck the rules, I can get you out of here,” Grayson whispers and I want to fall for his lies.

  “I can’t. I told you. I’m broken and sadly, you’re the only one who sees it,” I choke and believe every word I say.

  Seth grips me by the nape of the neck and yanks me through the crowd. I let out a strangled yelp of surprise and I walk blindly with my head down, choking on my tears. I hate that it garners us more attention, but I hope it’s convincing.

  I eye the front doors when I spot them through the crowd and fantasize about using them. Desperate screams compete with thrumming music and I’m reminded that I’m not safe and I can’t leave Ru’. The worst realization is I’m smart enough or aware enough to know I’m no different from the people I’ve been disgusted with all night. I may not be writhing in pain and pleasure for a room full of people, but I’ve had the same reactions in the same rooms and that makes me no different or better than them.

  ‘You will always be sloppy seconds.’

  The comment has a distinct Roman numeral two dancing in my blurred vision stained in blood. Second, indeed.

  I follow the ruse of Seth dragging me through the crowd, doubting whether or not we’re still acting. Brad starts to follow us up the staircase, keeping distance between us. I’ve become so
in-tune to his comforting shadow, I know he’s there. I stumble halfway up the stairs and skin my knees on the carpet.

  Brad rushes and scoops me up when I don’t pick myself up fast enough. He carries me the rest of the way to Evan’s room, with Seth in tow, weaving through a packed hallway.

  Harper

  I register the doors slamming shut behind us and then I’m placed on the leather chesterfield couch in front of the fireplace in Evan’s master suite. Brad hisses when he sees my neck and then my knees and moves to the bathroom. He comes back with a first aid kit and Rufus on his heels. I stare off and try to collect myself as Ru’ snuggles up with me on the couch. He leans over and tries to lick Brad’s face.

  Brad drags a stinging cotton ball over my left knee and Seth paces back and forth behind us when the doors fly open. Evan blows into the room like a wild and furious storm.

  “Stop,” Evan shouts and I’m pretty sure it was directed at Brad. I flinch when he roars it again.

  Brad and Seth both look to each other. An unspoken question passes between them.

  “Stop,” Evan bellows and I freeze. I’m not the only one.

  His eyes sweep over the scene in front of him and I’m shaking so badly I can’t will myself to stop.

  Brad looks up to Evan with bloody cotton in his hands as he backs away from me. I plead with my eyes for him stay and not leave me alone. I can’t be alone with Evan.

  “Tie her to the bed,” Evan exclaims with chest heaving.

  Seth moves to grab my arms and I start shaking my head.

  “No, don’t. I did everything you said, Seth,” I plead.

  He’s silent. It takes nothing for him to pull me off the couch and walk me back to the foot of Evan’s bed.

  “I played along like you told me. I’m not acting anymore, Seth. Please, I’m begging you. I’m scared. You heard me, I didn’t tell Grayson anything.”

  He pulls one of my arms as I fight against him. But he succeeds in tying my arm with a velvet rope attached to a poster by the footboard. I fire a pathetic slap across his face before he grabs my other arm.

  “I can see why he wants you restrained,” Seth mutters, unaffected by my fight and resistance.

  He secures my other arm to the opposite post as I drop my head, defeated. I face the room fully dressed, but I’m completely exposed.

  “Leave us,” Evan demands.

  Two sets of footsteps cause the groans in the floor planks and as Brad’s shadow walks past me, I look up. Ru’s in Seth’s arms while Brad searches my face.

  “Brad, please don’t leave me like this,” I beg and I don’t fucking care how desperate I sound.

  He offers me a sad expression and looks back to Evan.

  “Who the fuck do you think I look like?” Evan asks Brad before he has a chance to say anything. “My father?”

  “Do you really want the answer?” Brad has the nerve to smirk with a huge grin.

  “Get the fuck out of here and don’t ever accuse me of being him. I would never hurt her.”

  “Genetics already cursed you, so don’t let your actions complete the resemblance. And Evan, after tonight I think you already have hurt her,” Brad says as he looks at me one last time before closing the door behind him.

  The click of the closing door unlocks the inevitable slide and I slip into that sad, sorrowful place I was introduced to by the devil himself.

  Evan approaches the bed and as much as I’m falling apart, my heart speeds up and reminds me there’s still fight left in me, even though he towers over me and I’m powerless.

  “Do you know what you’ve done?” he asks. “I wanted you up here locked away and out of sight. If I don’t even trust myself around you, then how can I trust anyone else?”

  He grabs the back of my neck and forces me to meet his gaze. When I close my eyes to shut him out he squeezes tighter. Harsh fingers stab the column of my neck.

  “I should have warned you what a hot commodity these are around here.” He licks the traitorous tears off my cheeks. His tongue hot against my throat. “And the good senator almost backed out on our business deal because I refused to let him force more tears out of you. I couldn’t stomach the thought of him using you, hurting you, even though that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

  “Please, just let me go,” I mutter.

  “Maybe I read you wrong, it was dark downstairs after all. Do you want me to go find him, did you want him? Because the things he promised me if I let him have you are quite tempting.”

  “God, no,” I huff.

  “Good, because I swear if he goes anywhere near you again, I will castrate him. Then our business together will be ruined, again that would be your fault.”

  “I’m sorry,” I sob, shaking.

  “But the senator isn’t who you’re upset about, is it? Did you have a nice little talk with Grayson?”

  Oh, shit. Of course he saw everything. But I’m upset over Evan. How does he not see this?

  “Did you fall for his empty promises?” he taunts.

  I shake my head, wishing now I would have gone with Grayson.

  “What did he tell you, Harper? And don’t lie to me, Seth will tell me everything.”

  I snap my head back and meet his eyes. My hanging wrists go straight with strength in my shoulders.

  “He wanted to know why his ungrateful brother has already passed me around like the slut I’m accused of being,” I state, his nostrils flare.

  “What else did he say when he touched you?”

  “He regretted not fighting for me the night we met. He said I had fire in my eyes, but now it’s no longer there and you’re the reason it’s gone.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I confess.

  “Have I hurt you, Harper?”

  I want to wail ‘yes,’ but I bite back the word. He doesn’t buy my silence because my eyes tell him how much he’s hurt me, how much he’s hurting me right now.

  “Do you know what hurt is, Harper? Because it tore my fucking heart out when I looked up and saw another man’s grip around your throat and teeth in your neck, another set of fingers touching your perfect face, another set of lips telling you lies and fueling your fear. And what’s worse, I know what’s under that little dress you wear and the proof insults my good intentions. It fucking mocks me like I’ll never be able to have you without that bastard coming between us. ”

  He pinches the abused skin on my neck and as much as I want to bite back my squeal, Evan pulls it out with another pinch.

  “Do you know what that feels like?” he whispers in anguish.

  “I saw you with someone else and it tore me up. It’s still tearing me up,” I sob.

  I don’t want to process what it would be like to stare at similar reminders on Evan’s flawless skin. I skipped over the fact that I have no way of knowing how he feels and I feel even worse because I’ve never once considered what it must be like for him. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own selfishness.

  “Just keeping up pretenses and repeating the past,” he responds instantly.

  “I watched in horror,” I admit.

  “I did the same. What did you want to do about it then, Harper?”

  “I wanted to slap that nasty bitch off you. I want to wash her taste off your tongue and remind you how much you crave me.”

  The same question waits to be spoken of what he wanted to do, but I’m not sure I could handle his answer. So I prove to be a coward once again.

  Our eyes burn through each other. Our wills push against the wave of lust, because we’re angry and we both resent the hell out of our simplicity now.

  Evan steps away from me. He hangs his head and puts both hands in his pockets. He moves to the bar and leaves me tied to the bed, watching him. That same rush of whiskey he pours in a glass already lingers on my tongue. He lifts the tumbler to his perfect lips as he studies me.

  We’re dangerous together. He is matches to my kerosene. I’m no
thing more than a release to him, but I’m guilty in the same way. So we’re both at fault.

  Evan pulls a hand through his hair fisting and tugging, while holding the fiery liquid I’ve acquired a taste for in the last few hours. He paces in front of me and I straighten my spine. I don’t know how I find strength while tethered to his bed, but I do. This silence kills me and it fuels my words.

  “Should I have gone with Grayson?” I ask. “Should I have let him carry me away like he begged me? When he turned on the charm, I almost said yes. Even now a part of me wants to cut these ties that bind me, find him, and take him up on his offer,” I admit.

  “Do you want to know what happened to the last woman he took from me?”

  Evans shocks me with his question and I’m not sure if I really want to know.

  “No,” I answer him.

  “Tough. If you’re going to destroy me with your words and insinuations, then you asked for it,” he says with his back to me.

  “Untie me and I’ll listen.”

  “I can’t. I can’t touch you right now, because I don’t trust myself and I don’t trust that you won’t run out of this room when I tell you the truth,” he sits on the arm of the leather couch and meets my gaze. “You keep asking me about my family and I regret not telling you about them sooner. So there’s no other way to go about this. My father’s the unofficial king of New Orleans. From the top of the food chain that pull favors like your admiring senator to the gutter punks and gangsters that sell his drugs on the streets. He runs a multigenerational family business and I’m his successor. Legal oil production covers up all the illegal operations. As for Grayson, he’s my dad’s bastard, and the last face you see before Joe Hawthorne sends you to meet your maker.”

  Evan becomes rigid and places his glass on a side table by the couch.

  “The last woman I had any kind of relationship with that didn’t benefit the overall operation of the Hawthorne family was taken away from me by Grayson. He’s the one responsible for snuffing out that fire in her eyes, but at least he left her breathing. I got the warning my father intended, as Grayson waited in my penthouse to make sure the message sank in. And it did. Loud and clear. He not only enjoyed delivering those blows that bruised her body, but was bored by the time Brad and I showed up. So Harper, are you sure you still want to seek out Grayson? What do you think he would do to you? How do you think that famous fucking number would go over when he discovers how much your identity is worth? Let’s find out, shall we?”