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He raises his glass with a smile. The gesture is smooth. I bet that smile disarms many unsuspecting females who are unfamiliar with his darker side. Ian has always been the least complicated of the brothers. What you see is pretty much what you get. With Damian, you never know. That’s why I trust him with nothing, especially not with my dreams and desires.
“Thanks for the diamonds,” I say, heading for the door.
His dry chuckle follows me to the lobby. “Tell the lady it’s a pleasure.”
CHAPTER 10
Violet
The bell chimes over the door when I push it open. A smell of incense wraps around the small space in smoky ribbons. The scent is musky. If I were to draw it, I’d make it fudge pink and translucent mauve.
Lucky looks up from the counter. He straightens and then sags.
“You don’t look happy to see me,” I say, closing the door and sidestepping crates of instant noodles and candy in white wrappers.
He leans his palms on the counter and drops his head between his shoulders. “I can’t sell your drawings any longer.”
“What?” I navigate around boxes of LP’s and second-hand books stacked in pyramid racks. Slapping the folder in my hand on the counter, I say, “I brought more.”
He shakes his head. “Not taking them.”
I pet Darth Vader, who sleeps next to the cash register. “What are you talking about? They’re selling well.”
Darth meows, stretches, and goes back to sleep.
“That’s the problem,” Lucky says. “They’re selling too well. People are asking for them now.” He waves a hand at the display reserved for special books. “They’re collecting them like first-edition comic books.”
I give him a bright smile. “That doesn’t sound like a problem.”
“Your work is becoming too popular. It’s only a matter of time before someone figures out who you are.”
“They won’t, not as long as you don’t say anything.”
“No.” He pushes the folder back to me. “If your father finds out I’m helping you to sell this kind of stuff, he’ll burn down my shop and kill me.”
The sad thing is he’s not exaggerating, but I need the money. “He’s my stepfather, not my father.”
“Whatever. The answer remains no.”
Flipping open the cover of the folder, I say, “Just have a look. They’re really good.”
He slams the folder shut. “No, Vi. I’m sorry.”
“Lucky, please. It’s not as if you’re selling them here.”
The cash register dings when he opens it. Darth doesn’t stir a whisker.
Taking a stash of bills from the money tray, he slides it over the counter. “Here’s the takings from Saturday’s flea market. Good luck, kid. Now beat it.”
“If I could sell them myself, I would, but you know I can’t.”
He purses his lips. “Not my problem.”
“Please, Lucky.”
“Nope,” he says, popping the word like gum.
“How am I supposed to sell them now?”
He only stares at me with an expression that says to get out of his hair.
“I’ll give you a bigger cut,” I say. “Twenty percent.”
He doesn’t reply.
“Thirty?” I ask hopefully.
Nothing.
Shit. He’s serious. He’s really scared.
Sighing, I take the money and put it in my bag. “Is there any way of twisting your arm?”
“Nope,” he says, shoving the folder at me.
“If you change your mind—”
“I won’t.”
I clutch the folder against my chest. “Thanks then, I guess.”
“You’ve got talent, kid. A bit of a wild mind too, but wild is good when it comes to art.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, offering him a weak smile as I walk to the door.
Outside, I stop on the busy pavement. For a moment, I’m lost in the sea of Sunday shoppers and early diners who frequent the somewhat-bohemian-somewhat-dilapidated suburb of Melville. The income from the drawings is triple what Gus pays me. I still need ninety thousand rand. That’s the price of two false passports on the black market. It’s the price of freedom. I’ll have to find another way of making money.
Double shit.
Dejection weighs heavily on my shoulders, but I can’t say I didn’t expect it. My stepfather is feared in the city. If I could, I’d set up an account under a false name and sell my drawings online, but except for being feared, my stepfather is also the most computer savvy person in the country. He’s built a business on his talent. He runs the biggest and best underground company of hackers and programmers. If anyone can find a cyber trail, it’s him. He combs through my mom’s internet activities, dissecting every transaction and message. There’s no doubt he’s doing the same with mine. Seeing who he is, he has to protect himself, and that means monitoring what information leaves his house.
When someone bumps into me with a crude insult, I go back to my car. I drove here with the excuse of exchanging comic books. Lucky charges me less if I return the ones I’ve read. Gus hates that I read them. He considers them trashy literature, but on my mom’s insistence, he lets it slide. Gus doesn’t understand my fascination with superpowers. How can he? Only people who battle to run dream about flying.
