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He was so compliant as I took his clothes from him, dropping them onto the floor like dead skin as I pulled him along the bedroom. The sun was beginning to break outside, bathing us in the softest hue of dawn. I traced the dark lines on his chest, kissing my lips against the heavy beat of his heart.
“It’s you and me now,” I said. “We stand tall, we stand together. I’m going to be there tomorrow, with you, at your side. That’s where I belong.”
“Your parents...” he groaned. “Will they...?”
“They’ll be there,” I said. “Prancing about the place like they own it.”
“Figures.”
I reached up, angling his face to mine. “They’ll be there, and I’m glad. No more appearances, Callum, just what’s real. We’re real.”
“That stuff with the bins... I’m sorry, Soph. I wanted to scare you.”
I lay back on the bed, wriggling out of my own clothes as the savage watched me. I reached between my legs, splaying myself open without reservation. “I like it when you scare me...”
He knelt on the floor before me, clammy hands hot on my thighs. The slightest smile played on his lips. “Then you really are fucking mental.”
I smiled at the ceiling, arching my back as his tongue found the spot.
“Something like that...”
***
Chapter Sixteen
Callum
I scanned the crowd, hands wringing, knuckles fucking white. I’d been here all afternoon, Raven too, helping with the display. Now it was open doors, and Sophie was the only thing on my mind.
“She’ll be here, baby.” Raven squeezed my arm, guiding me back towards my exhibit and away from the gathering media. “Trust me, she’ll be here.”
“That’s her old man over there, ain’t it?” I tipped my head in his direction. The guy was just like I’d imagined, all posh suits and comb-over hair. He was smiling for photos, standing right in front of the Hardings Property logo.
“That’s him, yeah.”
“He’s gonna fucking hate me.”
“It doesn’t matter if he does, kid. His loss.”
Sure wished I felt like that. I saw Adrian, the gallery guy, give me a nod as he showed off my artwork. People were looking, and they were smiling. Smiling at me. It felt so fucking weird.
Raven nudged me. “Incoming.”
I turned around to catch Green Eyes on the approach, fingers gripped around the arm of the huge beast at her side. Couldn’t fucking be, surely not. He looked so fucking different without the mask on, all suited and booted with a big fucking smile on his face.
“They’re here for me?”
“Not just them,” Raven smiled. Behind Masque and Cat were a load more from Explicit. Diva, and Trixie and Ash, and others I didn’t know.
And then there was Sophie.MySophie. She was hidden amongst the crowd, nervous eyes looking for me. They found me and she smiled. A smile of pride and love and everything else I ever wanted. She looked so fucking pretty, in a real posh frock, she was, sparkly and dark green. Really suited her.
She reached my side at the same time as theUrban Lifejournalist, a trendy woman in her forties, with thick-rimmed glasses and a microphone ready to shove in my face.
“You’re new on the scene, Mr Jackson, please tell me what inspires your art.”
“Life,” I said. “Its love and its pain. Its heart, ya know?”
I thought of Casey’s waggy tail, and all the love she brought me, turning to look at the picture of her high up on the wall. I’d painted it weeks ago, one of my favourites. The picture was choppy and careless, catching her in her best light, jumping up at my legs as I tried to paint, wanting to run and play and wrestle about on the floor.
