Steps

by Bea Paige

  “Perhaps,” Anton responds.

  “Perhaps?” I ask, wanting to know what he means by that. Why wouldn’t I enjoy it? Sex is sex, right? What an odd thing to say. He doesn’t try to answer the question hanging in the air. So, I ask an easier one.

  “Did you undress me? Or did I manage that myself?”

  “I helped, you were a little… inebriated,” he finishes.

  “Well, thanks.” I feel my cheeks warm again as I look down at my bare legs. There’s a streak of blue paint just above my ankle bone.

  Anton seems to notice it at the same time I do. A strange look moves across his face, one I don’t understand. It looks a lot like guilt.

  “Sorry about that. The paint must’ve come off my hands when I was removing your tights.”

  Perfect, I think a little ungratefully. Looks like I’m going to have to get my clothes dry cleaned, because if there’s paint on me, there’s bound to be paint on them.

  “So, are you hungry? I know I’m ravenous, especially after all that weed we smoked last night,” Anton asks, changing the subject completely.

  As though on cue, my stomach rumbles loudly. “I guess there’s your answer,” I smile.

  Twenty minutes later, my stomach is full and the nasty taste in my mouth gone, I look around the room for my clothes, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I can’t believe I ate breakfast in my underwear, though Anton doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by it.

  “I hung them in the wardrobe,” Anton says, somehow knowing what I’m looking for. He tips his head towards it, whilst gulping back another mouthful of tea.

  “Thanks. I’ll just get dressed then and start work I suppose. What time is it anyway?”

  “It’s ten-thirty,” Anton says, getting up. He starts gathering the discarded plates and placing them on the tray. I’m pretty sure Ms Hadley would have a fit if she knew we were eating breakfast in bed, not that I give a shit what that witch thinks. Thoughts of her remind me that Anton unlocked the door to enter the room, and never explained why. She’s a stickler for keeping the doors locked. I hope that isn’t a sign she’s back…

  “Why was the door locked, Anton?” I ask.

  “Erik came home last night… he refused to stay any longer.”

  “Shit, was that wise?”

  “Not in the slightest. Ms Hadley begged him to stay at the hospital, but he wanted to get home.”

  “Doesn’t he realise how dangerous it is to discharge himself before he’s well enough to leave?”

  Anton blows out a breath. “He’s well aware, yes, but as I said, he wanted to come home.”

  “Why, was it because of the medical staff? I imagine it was difficult for him with the all the women…”

  “No. He wanted to return home for… you.”

  “Me?!”

  “You’re surprised? Why? I told you, he never lets women touch him. There’s something special about you, Rose. Ivan sees it, even though I’m betting he doesn’t quite understand it yet. But, Erik, he knows it.”

  Anton tips his head to the side, the way he did when he was watching me in the studio yesterday. “There really is something so very enticing about you... Painting you is going to be addictive,” he whispers, as though that’s a bad thing.

  “That’s good though, right?” I ask. He makes it sound like it isn’t. I’m not sure I understand given our arrangement.

  Anton chews on his lip. “There’s something about me you should know, Rose.”

  “What’s that?”

  He swipes a hand over his beard.

  “Anton, what?”

  “I have an obsessive personality. It affects everything I do,” he blurts out.

  “We’re all a little obsessive. I’m a little OCD about cleaning,” I say, shrugging off his concerns.

  “No, you don’t understand. I have an unhealthy obsession with my need to paint. Every single aspect of me needs to find the perfect shade, the perfect colour, the perfect… muse. I’ve searched my whole life to find her, to find the one person who can give me what I need. Who can help me to see…”

  “Okay,” I say, feeling a little nervous at his confession and the way his gaze cuts right through me. It’s almost desperate, and desperate men are dangerous, I should know. A memory from a long time ago tries to claw its way into my mind, but I shove it away. Now is not the time.

  “I’ve used drugs, Rose. I’ve tried every single one you can imagine, all of it in the pursuit to provide colour where there isn’t any. I’ve cast aside numerous women in my absolute single-minded desire to obtain the impossible. I’ve been waiting for the right woman to bring colour into my life in every possible way. I’ve been searching for so fucking long…”

  Anton reaches over and grasps my hand, his thumb trailing over my knuckles.

  “I want you to know that if I really, truly, let you in,” he says, tapping his chest. “I won’t have the strength to let you go, ever. You see, Rose, if you turn out to be the one. The one who will truly help me to see, it isn’t Ivan or Erik you need to fear. It’s me,” he says.

  I almost expect him to laugh, to say ‘just kidding’, but he doesn’t, and I’m left wondering what the fuck I’ve got myself into. Anton lets go of my hand and stands, gathering the tray stacked with our empty plates.

  I don’t know what to say to him.

  The familiar pull of a dangerous man has my heart pounding and my demon gnashing to be set free. Why the hell do I find myself in these situations? Why do I attract these men? And why, oh why, do I want them so bad?

  “If I were you, Rose, I would leave here and never return, because one day that door may just remain locked,” he warns, before striding from the room, leaving me gaping after him. Eventually, after my pulse has calmed enough, I get dressed, pulling on my clothes absentmindedly. It only occurs to me once I’ve stepped out into the hallway that there isn’t a spot of paint on any of them.

  I don’t heed Anton’s warning.

  Despite my own doubts, I remain.

  Returning to the office, I continue with the filing. Thoughts of Ivan, Anton and Erik filling my head all day. That’s two men who’ve warned me personally how dangerous they are and another who I know is dangerous. Yet I’m still here.

  I’m still damn here.

  Curiosity killed the cat, Rose. That little voice in my head teases.

  But it isn’t just curiosity. I’m drawn to these men. Despite everything that happened in my past, I can’t walk away.

  I know I’m heading down a path that will only end in heartache, but I can’t seem to fight the pull of the tide. All I can do is let it take me along and hope that I don’t drown.

  Pretty soon four o’clock ticks around and I head towards Anton’s studio once more wanting answers, wanting to understand what the fuck I’m dealing with here.

  This time there’s no music to greet me, just a foreboding silence.

  I knock on the door lightly, waiting for a response.

  “Come in, Rose,” Anton says, his voice low, deliberate.

  Pushing open the door I step into his studio. Anton is standing in the centre of the room, behind him sitting on a chair is Erik, on the floor by his feet, his violin and bow.

  “Hello,” I say softly, trying to hide the surprise I feel at seeing Erik, trying to temper my sudden beating heart.

  I catch Anton’s eye and he nods his head, his expression unreadable.

  “It’s alright, Rose,” he reassures me.

  But I’m not sure it is.

  I suddenly feel like a lamb to the slaughter.

  Before me are two dangerous men. One who has told me as much, and the other who has shown me he is. Maybe now’s the time to run, run and never return. I should lock down the demon in me. I should find another job. It wouldn’t be hard to do.

  “Are you going to join us?” Anton asks, and I know there’s more to that question than appears on the surface. A tension fills the air as I decide what to do.

  Stay or run.

&nb
sp; Inexplicably, I ignore my instincts, and shut the door behind me. Anton visibly relaxes, whilst Erik tenses. Placing my coat and bag on the chair beside me, I wait.

  No one moves.

  I can feel both Anton and Erik’s gaze, but I don’t look at either of them directly, choosing instead to stare at a spot just to the left of them. Direct eye contact with Erik would be a mistake and Anton’s gaze is making me feel simultaneously uneasy and excited. They both ooze danger, just like Ivan.

  What the hell am I doing?

  “Thank you for coming, Rose,” Erik says, as though he was expecting me.

  I’m almost startled by his voice, it’s deeper than I remember with a wonderful rich baritone. For a brief moment I wonder if he’s able to sing as well as play a musical instrument.

  “How are you feeling, Erik?” I ask gently. I’m not sure why I feel the need to make polite small talk. I came here to get answers and instead I’m playing nice.

  “Like I’ve been stabbed with a knife,” he responds.

  I wince at that. “Sorry, stupid question.”

  “No, it isn’t. I apologise for my rudeness. Thank you for coming here, that’s brave, given the way I acted.”

  “I didn’t know you would be here this afternoon. I came to speak with Anton.”

  “I see,” he responds quickly. I hear the sound of the chair scrape across the floor as he stands, and I can’t help but snatch a look at him. He has a pained look on his face and I’m not sure whether it’s because of his injury, or what I just said.

  “I didn’t mean it to come out that way. Seeing you right now is unexpected, but I agreed with Ivan and Anton that I’d be happy to see you, to help.” And despite all common sense that’s still true, I do want to help Erik.

  I want to help them all.

  No, Rose, you want to own them. These men call to the darkness in you. Don’t fucking kid yourself.

  Erik nods sharply, sitting back down. His hands are shaking, and though it’s subtle, Anton moves to stand in front of him, shielding me from him I guess.

  “You stayed, despite what I said?” Anton asks incredulously.

  I don’t answer Anton, not wanting to acknowledge suddenly what this means, what I’m choosing by shutting the door on my escape.

  “Rose. There’s still time…” Anton says once more.

  But instead of frightening me off, my feet seem to move of their own accord and within a few steps I’m standing before Anton.

  These men are dangerous.

  I can feel it.

  And yet I remain.

  Erik stands, my closeness causing the whole of his body to shake violently. A sound releases from his mouth, a low rumbling growl, his own demon making itself known.

  “Erik,” Anton warns, holding his arm out.

  But even wounded, I already know that Anton wouldn’t be able to stop Erik if he wanted to attack me. He’s a huge man, broad shouldered, strong.

  Erik’s hands are fisted, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He’s fighting himself with every breath and it only makes me want to help him more, want him more.

  I know I’m playing with fire, and whilst the sensible part of me is well aware of what could happen if the wind whips up the flames in the wrong direction, the other part of me wants to be consumed by them.

  Fucking let them devour me. All of them.

  Ivan, Anton and Erik.

  Three very different men, all utterly appealing. With Ivan, it’s about the sex, yes, but it’s also about the power he wishes to gain over another person, the need to devour a woman’s soul until she’s broken, ruined. Just like his wife Svetlana.

  With these two, it’s a different kind of danger.

  Anton is obsessive, he’s admitted as such. He’s searching for the right colour, for the perfect image on a canvas, for a woman to fulfil the role as his muse. Something I’ve already agreed to without understanding what that means. Earlier he gave me the opportunity to leave, to run.

  Yet I stayed.

  He intrigues me, he gives me solace in allowing me the freedom to dance, yet he wants something from me, something that he’s hinted at, but I can’t quite put my finger on.

  Then there’s Erik, he represents a very real physical danger. Aggression and anger are thinly veiled by a vulnerability that attracts me to him. All of it, every aspect of him is so very alluring, dangerous.

  “You should leave,” Erik warns. “You’re not safe here with any of us. We’ll ruin you, Rose.”

  He’s right, I should leave. I should run.

  But I don’t heed his warning, because I see something in these men, something I recognise.

  “Only if you order me to,” I respond.

  Then I kneel on the floor, hoping I’ve read them right.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ivan

  “Anton, where the fuck is Erik? Ms Hadley called and told me he checked himself out? I left London the moment she told me about his stupidity… I’ve been travelling all day!” I say, shoving open the door to his studio.

  Erik and Anton make a startled noise as I enter the room, but it isn’t them I see first, it’s Rose.

  “What the actual fuck?” I snarl, stopping in my tracks. I’m so shocked that I can only stand in the doorway staring at Rose kneeling before them. Her head is bowed.

  Why the fuck is she on her knees for them?

  “Someone tell me what the fuck is going on before I lose my shit!” I shout this time, unable to control the fucking rage I feel at seeing her submit like this to my two best friends, my brothers.

  “It isn’t what you think…” Anton begins, holding his hands up.

  “Well, what the fuck is it? Because as far as I can tell, Rose isn’t tying up your damn shoelaces!”

  “This isn’t the time for your temper, Ivan,” Anton starts, his gaze flicking to Erik, but I cut him off.

  “Don’t fucking tell me how to behave, Ant.”

  Snapping into action, I stride over to Rose and grab her arm, pulling her to her feet roughly. “What the fuck are you doing, Rose?” I growl, forcing her to face me, to answer me. After everything we’ve gone through over the last few days, the back and forth, and she’s on her knees for them. Why? Did that kiss mean fuck-all to her?

  “Let go of me, Ivan,” she warns. Her voice is calm, but I can feel her own anger through the tremor in her body and the steel in her eyes.

  “No, I won’t.” And to prove a point, I squeeze harder.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She shouts now, yanking her arm free. “This is the last time you manhandle me, Ivan Sachov! Do you hear me?!”

  “You’re mine!” I roar back, not giving a fuck if this whole sorry episode is upsetting Erik.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I can see his face turn pale as he looks at Rose with dangerous eyes.

  “Ivan, for fuck’s sake man, can’t you see what you’re doing to Erik?” Anton whispers in a rush.

  “I don’t give a fuck. She’s mine!”

  “I am not yours. I belong to nobody but myself. If I choose to kneel before these men then I goddamn will, Ivan,” she seethes, her voice lowering to a dangerous level.

  “You bow to me, and me alone!” I step forward, towering over her.

  “NO. I. DON’T!” she shouts back, not backing down one inch. And fuck if I don’t want her all the more for it.

  “Leave her alone, Ivan,” Anton warns.

  “Fuck off! This has nothing to do with you!” I turn on him, pushing him roughly.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. This has everything to do with me, with Erik too. Rose chose to be my muse, she chose to get on her knees before us just now. You don’t own her like the others.”

  “YOUR FUCKING MUSE?!” I explode.

  The anger that erupts is overwhelming. Even if I tried, I don’t think I could contain it. In fact, I know I can’t. Seeing red, I turn away from Rose and throw a punch at Anton. My fist meets his cheek with a loud smack, throwing
his head back with the force of it. Anton stumbles, but he doesn’t fight back. He never does, not with me and I fucking despise him for it.

  “Tell me you fucking didn’t?” I growl, grabbing his shirt in my hand and yanking him forward. My fist is clenched, pulled back ready to lay into him once more.

  My best friend, my brother, looks me in the eye and I already know the answer before he utters a word.

  “I’ve already painted Rose, Ivan. It’s done,” he says.

  “You fucking prick! What have you done?! Do you understand what that means?” I rage.

  This isn’t good, this is a fucking nightmare.

  Anton has painted her. He’s stepped over the line he promised he’d never cross again and he’s done it with Rose. What the fuck are we going to do now?

  “She’s the one, Ivan. You know it as well as I do. Stop trying to convince yourself Rose is like the rest, because she isn’t.”

  We lock eyes, and I understand him well enough to know he really believes that’s true. That in itself is dangerous. His obsession is dangerous.

  “Look at Erik,” he whispers, his gaze flicking over my shoulder.

  I let go of him and spin around on my feet.

  Fuck. In my rage I’d forgotten about him.

  Rose is back on her knees, her head lowered, Erik standing before her. He towers over her, but she’s still, calm, despite the commotion, despite the very real danger she’s in.

  Anton and I watch as Erik reaches forward and touches her on the top of her head. If he wanted too, he could slide his hands lower and snap her neck before I could even stop him.

  “Look at me, Rose,” Erik demands with a voice that belies the fear I know he feels.

  Fear of himself, of her. I can see it in the way his hands shake, the tremble of his body, the grit of his jaw as he fights his own demons in her presence.

  Rose looks up at him, her head lifting slowly. My fucking heart breaks at her courage, her strength. She’s so brave, so strong, and in danger... because of all of us.

  I swallow hard, my own breathing becoming shallow as I watch, trepidation creeps up my spine. Erik sucks in a breath as Rose finally meets his gaze. I understand what it feels like to be studied by her, feeling so insignificant and so fucking powerful at the same time.