A beautiful, black leather collar, with rose gold fastenings and a light pink fabric lining the inside.
Carefully, I run a finger along the edge, feeling the softness of the fabric until I reach the center where there are four heart-shaped rose gold tags.
With trembling fingers, I pick up the tags to see what has been inscribed, but they are blank. There is nothing on them.
A small part of me hoped to see my nicknames on the tags. Something to reassure me that I haven’t been replaced. But no, these are blank, ready for the nicknames of the woman who owns the clothes and bathroom products.
I straighten, struggling to breathe as I find my way to the exit, hitting the light switch as I go. As the door slams behind me, the sob I’ve been holding in escapes.
This was so not worth looking for my sketch pad.
Chapter 58
Hudson
“What time does she normally arrive?” I ask, turning away from the arched bay windows.
“She is typically on time, so about ten-ish,” Darcy replies as he continues to unravel the ropes in various shades of green from his duffel bag.
While he has regular street clothes on, he has me in beige sweats and no shirt. I drew the line at the spandex briefs designed to make me look like a Ken doll.
Beside him are two chairs, their backs to each other. They remind me of school chairs, mostly backless, with a wooden seat and thin metal struts.
“And basically, we are going to sit back to back, holding hands for the first sketch?”
“That’s the plan.” He loops the light green rope into a coil and places it by a chair. “Then I’d like to have her suspended above your head, with her arm reaching out to you. Which means you’ll have to sit on the floor and reach up to her. Your hands won’t be touching, but the ropes will be supporting your arm as well.”
He has told me this a couple of times already, but I barely slept last night, which has left my brain a little sluggish. What sleep I did get was not restful, and I’ve already taken painkillers for the headache sitting behind my temples. Dreams plagued any sleep I did manage—of Emery leaving before she even entered the studio, of her spending the entire time crying, of her not showing up at all.
I may as well not have slept, at least I wouldn’t have those mental images in my head.
Turning back to the window, I don’t bother to offer Darcy help again, since he has already turned me down twice. The man has a real thing about anyone messing with his process, which I can appreciate from a purely theoretical point of view.
The headache is not improved by my jittery nerves. I haven’t physically laid eyes on Emery since Monday, and I haven’t touched her since we found her in that rundown house. Though that was only two weeks ago today, it feels like months.
This might be my last opportunity to connect with her in person. Unless I manufacture another reason.
“Oh, ah, h-hi,” stutters a female voice from behind me that I would recognize anywhere.
I force myself to take a deep breath and turn around slowly, needing to maintain my calm and controlled demeanor—externally, at least. Internally, my organs are trying to escape my skin, but our girl doesn’t need to know that. She needs us in levelheaded and in control. We’ve put her on the back foot with me being here, she needs to see that everything is fine and that there is no need to be scared.
“Hey, princess.” Darcy rises from his crouched position with a smile on his face. “Ready for today?”
Emery’s eyes dart toward me and then back to Darcy, her grip around the strap of her backpack turning her knuckles white. “Yeah. I just, I wasn’t expecting an audience.”
Darcy waves a dismissive hand in my direction. “He’s here as a prop. It was either Hudson or Bertie, my prop model, and I figured you’d be more comfortable with Hudson. Just think of him like a life-sized doll. There but inanimate. He’ll enjoy that.”
Several emotions flicker over her features, and it’s like watching a rapid-fire slideshow.
Confusion. Shock. Amusement. Embarrassment. Interest. Irritation. Heartbreak.
For a second, I think she is going to fight the situation, but then her head sags and she nods. She all but hugs the wall as she heads over to the makeshift changing area that Darcy has set up.
Once she is hidden from view, Darcy comes to stand next to me, concern pulling at his features, and whispers so that she won’t hear us. “Something’s wrong.”
“Agreed. Do you think it’s because Xavier is gone for the weekend?” With every fiber of my being, I want to fix whatever the problem is for her, if she will let us. Xavier being gone isn’t something I can fix, per say, but I am more than willing to substitute myself into his spot in her dorm.
Darcy shrugs, then shakes his head. “Honestly, I have no idea. If it were me, I’d be happy to get a break from the asshole.”
