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No one’s perfect. Wasn’t that the understatement of the year when talking about anyone in this house.
Alistair, Gareth, me… even my mom. None of us were perfect. We were all fucked up in different ways, some worse than others. Honestly, it should’ve made me feel better, knowing we were all fucked up individuals that were about to go head-to-head with Brett Banks and whatever he had in store, but it didn’t. If anything, it made me feel more uneasy.
There was always something worse out there. What if Brett Banks was here to prove to me the depravity inside this house was nothing compared to the evil outside these walls?
Chapter Ten – Brianna
I stood in my mom’s room, watching her pack. She’d come home from the gallery with amazing news—she was going to Italy. She’d gotten personally invited to tour a string of galleries over there and possibly procure some new artists for showcasing. Italy had always been one of her dream places, somewhere she wanted to see before she died, and now she was getting that chance.
She’d tried to get Alistair to go with her, but he’d said he had too many things to handle here, so he couldn’t go. It was just as he’d said. She’d acted sad for about a minute before the high had returned, and now she practically skipped across the room, to her closet, to her dressers, and then to the suitcases on the bed, where I currently sat.
“How long will you be gone?” I asked, wishing it would be forever. No offense to her, but life would be so much better if my mom ceased to exist. There’d never been much love between us, and what little love there had been was from me to her, never the other way around. It wouldn’t be hard to go on without her, knowing she was gone for good. I think I could do it easily.
I… kind of hated this woman and all of the advice she’d tried to give me over the years. The constant flak about my art, how I should try to make a name for myself on TikTok and get my own channel on YouTube. Market myself while I was still young and pretty. Get sponsors who’d send me free shit and all I had to do was fake a smile and talk about how much I loved whatever it was they’d sent.
But I’d never wanted a life like that, and I think, because of that, my mom had always loathed me. That, and because I was a constant reminder of her failed marriage to a nobody who’d moved on with a younger woman before we’d even moved out of the house.
“I’m not sure,” my mom said, folding her clothes beside me and then putting them in the suitcases. “The gallery did just hire someone else last week, so she’ll be taking over while I’m gone. I have no idea, and frankly, I don’t care. It’sItaly, Brianna. I’ve always wanted to go to Italy.” When she glanced at me, I faked a smile.
Alistair wasn’t in the room; it was just my mom and me, and that was probably why my mom felt comfortable enough to say, “I’m glad you and Gareth worked out whatever was going on between you two. He’s family now. I don’t want you to forget that.”
“I won’t,” I muttered, barely holding back the rolling of my eyes. As if my mom cared about family. No, she only cared about the money. Money, money, money. Since the Montgomery family had loads of it, she’d do anything to keep it, and therefore she’d tell me to do anything to help her keep it as well.
“I don’t want to get a single call from Alistair telling me you’ve done something while I’m away. In fact, I don’t want to think of you at all.” Even she seemed to realize that was a little too rude, because she added, “No offense meant, honey. It’s just—Italy.”
“I know, Mom. I know.”
My mom sighed, resting her hands on the side of her luggage as she stared at me. She didn’t say anything right away, and I wondered what she was thinking. Did she have a suspicion that Alistair was having an affair? That he didn’t love her whatsoever? Did she think that, maybe, I was the one driving him crazy when he couldn’t even pretend with her?
She turned away from the luggage, leaning her backside against the bed. “I know you and I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye on certain things—on most things, actually—but I hope you realize how good this new life is for us both. If we do what we can to keep it, neither of us will ever want for anything.”
It’s something she’d told me multiple times before, something she’d had on repeat before the wedding. It wasn’t anything new. She’d probably spend the rest of her life repeating it, if only to try to make it sink into my head.
But money never impressed me. It still didn’t. I could live without it quite easily, while my mom… well, I think, after being married to Alistair Montgomery, even for such a short time, she’d be lost.
“You better be on your best behavior while I’m gone,” she harped on it. “Don’t be moody. Don’t shut yourself in that studio and paint the whole time. Spend some time with your new stepbrother and your stepfather. Get to know them.”
All I could do was nod, nod and resist my urge to tell my mom that I knew them both a hell of a lot better than she did, in every possible way. I knew all about the darkness hiding behind their handsome faces, about their bloody pasts. I knew more about them than my mom ever could.
My mom finished packing, neatly folding all of her clothes and whatever shoes she might need into two suitcases. She fetched all of her toiletries and whatever else she needed, and then it was time to take her to the airport—Alistair’s job. He really was trying to get her out of here as quickly as possible, which I could appreciate.
With Brett Banks stalking around and knowing he wanted to hurt me above all else, it was good to get my mom out of Eastcreek. Though I wouldn’t be too sad if she, you know, died, it was best to try to avoid that particular outcome.
My mom didn’t even give me a hug or a kiss before she went. She didn’t tell me she loved me or any of that. She didn’t even look back. She just left.
But that was fine. It was exactly what I was used to when it came to that woman. I didn’t think she’d ever made me feel loved in my life. My dad, on the other hand, had, but you can see how well that relationship turned out. The moment my mom and I moved out of that house, it was like we’d ceased to exist to him. I’d stopped being his daughter and became a stranger.
I… didn’t really have any good role models in my life. No healthy parental figures. Maybe that’s why I was so drawn to Gareth, Alistair, and Rick. Maybe I was trying to find what I’d lacked my entire life, or maybe I wanted them to help me fall further down the rabbit hole of insanity.
After my mom and Alistair were gone, I went upstairs to my studio. I stood in front of the canvas I’d started on… God, it felt like ages ago, and I stared at the faces on it. Divided into three, parts of Alistair and Rick and Gareth, with a skeletal lower half.
My eyes hardly blinked as I stared at the canvas. I brought a hand to it, lightly running my fingertips down it, feeling the rough canvas on my skin. You know what wasn’t rough? Blood. It was actually very smooth. Smooth and wet when it was fresh, and so, so messy.
I blinked, and for just the quickest of moments, I could’ve sworn my hand was stained with blood, and I’d smeared a handprint of red across my canvas. But I blinked again and whatever my mind had imagined disappeared.
I backed up, moving away from the canvas, stopping only when I hit the wall near the window. I leaned my back against it and slid down to my ass, and all the while, I never took my eyes off the canvas.
I couldn’t paint. I couldn’t even start a new project. I knew I didn’t have it in me, not right now. The urge to paint death and all its twisted beauty was gone, replaced by anxiety and memories of something I should know nothing about.
