“What the fuck is this?” I demand, taking in his ghastly portrait. I can’t tell if I’m more upset by the private video he leaked to the press or this wretched painting.
Elliot’s forehead creases. “This is you, Adam. My masterpiece. You don’t like it?”
“Are you kidding me right now? You made me look terrible. My nose is even bigger than before, and my ears look like Dumbo.”
“They do not. They’re perfect, just like the rest of you.”
“My eyes are bluer than that and my hair is way thicker. Where are my abs?”
Elliot squints at me like he doesn’t comprehend. “The positioning of your body would make it unrealistic for you to have abs.”
“Ialwayshave abs,” I roar.
“Adam, calm down.”
“No, I will not calm down,” I say, gesturing wildly. “You come in here and you judge me, and you make me look like ass in your paintings, and you sell my most private, personal shit to TMZ. You’re even worse than those reporters, Elliot, because you made me trust you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The mirror in Cassius’s mother’s bedroom. Did you hide a camera on it?”
Elliot goes still and deathly silent. The color drains from his face.
“Cassius was right about you all along,” I seethe. I should have listened to him. He’s right about practically everything. The vein in my temple throbs and all my anger concentrates on that hideous painting like a laser beam of destruction. “How could you do this to me? Fly me out here, make me pose for your stupid fucking pictures, film me without me knowing, then betray me.”
He blinks rapidly, still not saying anything.
“So, you admit it?” I ask. “You planted a camera? How many more are there? What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re going to jail, you sick pervert. Cassius’s lawyers don’t lose.”
He sets aside his paintbrush and easel and stands up straighter, as if he might step to me. I wish he would. “I didn’t plant the camera, Adam. Cassius did, and it’s true that we shouldn’t have filmed you, but as for the rest...” He waves a hand, dismissing all the hard work and sacrifices I’ve made to become what I am.
“You’re lying. You’ve ruined everything,” I tell him. “I’ve lost out on the opportunity of a lifetime because of you. And what are you planning to do with this… this monstrosity?” I motion to the painting.
“I’m going to show it,” he says defiantly. “It’s my best work yet.”
“You can’t show it. It’s hideous. It’s absolute trash.” If people see this painting, my career is over. If Cassius sees it, he’ll surely break up with me. And then where will I be? Broke and homeless. A pudgy, washed-up nobody sucking dick in Vaseline Alley for spare change.
“You have no control over what I can or cannot show, Adam. This is my art. You’re merely the muse.”
“Merely the muse?” I ask, irate. “What about partnership and mutual respect and all that garbage you spewed while you were recording me behind my back?”
He crosses his arms, bold for someone who’s so completely in the wrong it’s ridiculous. “I’m showing this painting, Adam, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Like hell you are.” I grab the nearest, swingable object, Elliot’s camera tripod, and heft it into my hands like a baseball bat. The weight feels familiar in my grip and oh so right. Adrenaline and fury hums through my veins as I take aim at the painting. One good hit is all it will take. I draw back the tripod, but just as I’m releasing it, Elliot launches himself in front of the portrait, directly into my path. I expect to hear the rip of the canvas, but instead there’s a sickening crunch. Elliot drops to the floor with a dull thud, and blood starts to pool on the porcelain, fanning across the frost white tile and gathering in the eggshell grout.Cassius will hate that, I think, then realize Elliot’s not moving. His mouth is open, but he doesn’t appear to be breathing.
“Elliot?” I ask but he doesn’t even blink. “Elliot? Stop fucking with me, man. Elliot?Elliot?”
Oh fuck.
Oh fuck.
Oh fuuuuuuuuuck.
Chapter24
Cassius
It’s not eavesdropping if it’s your own home. That’s practically a law of property ownership.
