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She smiles. “Thank you, Dante.”
Walking around the room, admiring each person’s work, I can feel Madison’s eyes on me. Her gaze is electric, making me want to turn and meet it. But instead, I keep walking, not wanting anyone else to notice what’s between us.
If they do, it’s game over.
Finally reaching Madison’s canvas, my breath catches. She’s painted a dark, abstract forest landscape shrouded in mist. It’s eerie yet captivating simultaneously, so much so that I can almost feel its menace. She etches out thick trees that seem to reach up into an unforgiving sky, their branches spreading like bony fingers gripping at the clouds.
She’s added glimpses of shadowed creatures moving through the trees and bare patches of land that are devoid of life. As I look closer she’s used her skill to add a faint glimmer illuminating parts of her painting. It looks like starlight barely managing to pierce through this desolate world she’s created on canvas.
And I can’t help but feel that this is how she feels. Her angelic light is trapped in such darkness it can hardly find a way through. There’s more to Madison than meets the eye. And I need to uncover everything about her. Every little detail. Until she’s bare to me. An open fucking canvas.
“This is incredibly expressive,” I say, unable to draw my eyes from it. “Where is this place?”
“In my mind,” she says, not breaking away from her work to look at me.
I swallow hard. “Tell me what it means,” I murmur, my voice soft.
Her throat bobs, and she looks at me. “Nothing. It’s just a painting.” She’s trying to hide away. She can’t hide from me. There’s nowhere she can go where she’s safe from me.
The church bell strikes, signaling that the hour is up. It’s eight o’clock, which means the club is over.
“Stay behind,” I say quietly.
Elaine walks over to Madison, looking at her painting. She takes in the details, her brow furrowing. “This is really dark,” she comments, breaking the heavy silence between them. “I think you need to lighten up.”
Madison tilts her head down, a hint of hurt flashing across her face.
“Elaine,” I snap.
Elaine’s eyes widen at the tone of my voice. “Yes, Father?”
“This group is supportive of all artistic efforts. If you’ve got nothing encouraging to say, then don’t speak.”
“Father, I merely pointed out that it’s very dark and depressing.”
I want to rip her head off. She’s lucky I have to maintain my composure. In my old life, she’d be fucking shredded to pieces for talking to my little doe like that. “It’s expressive and beautiful, and I don’t want to hear another negative thing out of your mouth, or you can forget coming to this club.”
Elaine shakes her head. “Sorry.” She gives Madison a smile, but it’s full of malice. “I didn’t mean to offend.” She turns and struts away, leaving me standing with my fists balled.
I’ve got a desperate need to protect this girl. And it’s going to get me in trouble. Violence is my second nature, and fighting it is hard.
I turn to her once the other members have left, and it’s just us.
“Tell me the story behind this painting,” I say.
The air between us crackles with anticipation the moment I get closer.
“Father, I?—”
“We’re alone now, little doe. Call me Dante,” I murmur.
She nods. “It’s a personal painting.”
“Do you feel trapped?” I ask.
Her eyes widen. “Yes,” she breathes.
“Why?” I ask.
