by Kenya Wright
“There are rumors that Michael threw his Archangel in the trash for others to find and use as they want. I like to think of myself as a finder of treasure and gold in the dumpster of life. If I’m such a dark viewer and I spotted something inspiring in you, then what does that mean about your life?”
Hmmm. I was wondering why Michael would release her from the contract. Now I know. It ran deeper than art.
Anyone in the art world could recognize that face. If I hadn’t been so busy with a dead girl and cops on my mind, I would’ve realized who she was. In each of Michael’s paintings, those pouting lips craved to be sucked on and kissed. Her eyes whispered promise of pleasure between cool sheets on a hot night. Her pale skin looked so soft I’d been afraid to shake her hand and damage those delicate fingers. And that hair. Even in a bun, it made my length rise for a few seconds, before I calmed myself down. Michael painted a whole series on just those strands—long luxurious ones, blanketing her taut body in mystery and sensuality so much that any average man would long to cut it off, just to see what lay beneath and sadly to avoid the competition of so many men dreaming of running their fingers through it.
I moved deeper in the shadows so I could get a view of Elle’s facial response without her catching me watching her again. Earlier was absurd. For one second, I slipped my gaze to her plump behind as any normal man would do when walking behind an attractive woman. She caught me and held no shame or disgust on her face, just a matter-of-fact response as she turned back around.
Just another pervert looking at my butt, I bet she thought. She must be used to people staring at her all the time.
“Are you going to answer the question?” Hex pushed the topic some more.
“I don’t have an answer for you.” She walked through a path of two carved banyan trees. They connected to each other by the branches, so that the top appeared more like a wooden bridge of leaves than linked trees. Hex never admitted what the piece meant, but I knew the carving depicted our relationship as brothers and even our whole family.
Hex and I had those same bonded banyans tattooed all over our backs, two black trees standing next to each other, a strangling growth of roots built upwards from the soil and bridging out to others while the branches matured toward the ground. Like most banyans, the host tree that started it all was close to death and uncertain of its future.
Those thoughts of the crumbling host tree brought me back to the problem of the dead girl.
Did she kill this girl? Dear God. I hope not. I can’t take anymore. It must’ve been someone else. It had to be.
The dead girl had been one of the many models for Hex. She’d just completed the poses he needed and was due to leave the property tomorrow.
And instead, someone killed her.
“Besides, life is truly not at the forefront for me,” Hex continued. “Death is my muse. It’s what inspires me.”
Months before all of this, I told him that inviting lots of people to our castle would be dangerous. He said I worried too much. Grandma got between us and threw her special cowrie shells onto the ground. A gray film glazed over her eyes. Hex thought it was some funky trick Grandma knew to make her magic appear real. I wasn’t so sure. He didn’t believe in her religion. I just didn’t discount it. Regardless, Grandma peered at those shells with murky eyes and prophesized that girls would die over and over again. When I discovered the body this morning, she tossed me that knowing look, the one that screamed, “I told you, boy. I told you, and now the blood is on your hands.”
I have to deal with that police detective before the meeting with the Metropolitan Art Museum. He’ll need to figure out where the girl’s from so that her family can be notified and possibly paid for their loss. Not that this could be paid off with money!
A loud and exasperated breath escaped my lips. Both Hex and Elle turned to me. I covered my mouth with a fist and coughed. “So how much longer is this going to take?”
“Why are you even here?” Hex grabbed a blue sheet from the shelf and carried it to the stage. “You never care about the introductory phase with my models, or really anything when it concerns the art process.”
“Well, now I do.”
“Why?”
Who would kill that poor, young girl?
“You keep hiring women and men and bringing them here.” I leaned on the wall. “Their lives are in our care when they walk on these grounds.”
“What the hell are you talking about? We can afford them walking around here, and I’m inspired by people and the things around me.”
I held up my hand. “I understand that, but we need to limit the models.”
Hex paused. “Why?”
I ignored the question and didn’t want to discuss this any further with Elle around. “How many models are on the property now?”
“Three counting Elle.” Hex gestured for her to come to the stage. “Go ahead and take off your clothes.”
I choked on my own saliva. It was such an out of nowhere reaction that even I was shocked as well as my brother, who laughed at me while I struggled to get my breath. I never stood in the studio with him when he created his works, especially the nude sessions.
By God, naked women represented the most heightened work of art. I was a man after all, a mature one, but a man nonetheless. I could walk into a room with a bare female laid on the stage and not drool or ogle. But there were just so many minutes of staring at lush breasts adorned with erect nipples and that plump flesh between a woman’s spread thighs before I became aroused and embarrassed us both. I stayed far away from Hex’s models and all the unclothed gatherings he had with them.
“Are you okay, Al?” Hex straightened out the sheet he’d laid across a small mattress that stood in the middle of the stage. “If it would make you more comfortable, I could have her wait to take off her clothes until after you leave.”
Elle climbed up on the stage and made no move to glance my way as she brought her fingers to the spaghetti straps on her shoulders.
“How long do you plan on having Elle here?” I averted my eyes while she slipped off that lovely dress, the color of sunlight and sand right at the instance of dawn. The color was so shocking against that pale skin, yet blended flawlessly with her hair. I directed my gaze to the ground because anywhere near her would be a problem that I didn’t need right now. I had enough things to consider--like why a dead body was decomposing in a garden ripe with vegetables and the possibility of another corpse coming very soon.
How long had the dead girl been there and who the hell did it? Would there be more? Are we all in danger? The police figured it was a lover’s dispute or some freak accident until they lifted her dress. What did they see? Why wouldn’t they tell me?
“Did you hear me?” Hex waved both of his hands.
“What?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“I said she’ll be here to the end of summer at least.”
“Five months?” Fear rose in my core. “Absolutely not. That’s ridiculous. You usually only have a model stay for a week or less.”
“A week with Michael’s Archangel? You’re insane.” He motioned to her lovely form. “Do you see her?”
I risked a peek. Have mercy on my soul. She lay against the sheet with shivering fingers and her gaze planted to the ceiling. There was no doubt in my mind that she was nervous. Michael probably never shared her modeling with any other artist. I know I wouldn’t have. She’s used to people gawking at her, but not with no clothes on. Yet, with all that knowledge of her discomfort, I couldn’t turn away. Her lips parted as if beckoning me to come over and fill her mouth with a kiss. Her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths. Her breasts rode the waves. Those pink points on top of them stiffened right before my eyes. Look away, Al. Look away. I rubbed my mouth and headed toward the back door. If I allowed my gaze to travel further down her body, I would be inching over to the stage and giving her an awkward view of the erection growing within my pants.
I forced myself not to r
un off by taking a step at a time and doing my best to control my breaths. “She stays no longer than a week.”
“That won’t do. I need her all summer. She’s my centerpiece in each work.”
It won’t matter if she’s dead.
But then I couldn’t tell him that. He’d seen enough dead girls in his life. I didn’t think he would be able to deal with anymore.
“She leaves after a week,” I said.
A bang sounded from behind me. No doubt, Hex slinging a can of paint to the ground or kicking a stack of canvases. “This is bullshit! Do I tell you how to run your side of the business? No! I do my part! You do yours!”
“You can do whatever you need to do within a week.”
“I can’t! I need three months!” Another bang boomed. This one came close to me.
“You can have two weeks.”
I’ll have to get tighter security. For all I know this death is unrelated to us all. It could’ve been a lover’s spat or maybe she had enemies. But what the hell did the cops see when they lifted her dress?
“I need more time.”
Hex and his models were always a constant headache. When they first arrived, they spent every free moment trying to seduce Hex, which was an impossible feat in itself. I’d never seen Hex with a woman or man in all of the adult years we’d lived together. Sadly, I didn’t think I would see him settling with anybody in the future. Once the models understood Hex was no option for a love affair, they always stalked after me. I had no need for models craving success or sexual partners hoping to get their greedy little fingers on the family money, so I found my pleasures in discrete places that catered to wealthy men like me.
Yet, models scurried around the property and left to do whatever they desired with my servants. Some were even bold enough to invite outsiders into the castle. Although Grandma reached barely five feet, she shut that misbehavior down by yelling out a few chants and waving a dead rat in their faces. Thankfully, the rat was a stuffed animal that just looked real.
No one else knew but the family.
“I need my model!”
Of course he did.
“My new collection is due in the fall!”
No one understood that better than me. I exhausted as many resources as I could so Hex could get it done. The fact always remained that his art kept the whole family eating fine foods and living in a lavish setting. Granted, grandma and I would’ve been happy in a small three bedroom house at the edge of a tiny country town. Hex wouldn’t hear of it. All of his childhood, he longed to live in a castle with a moat, so when the moment of the house purchase came, he’d begged and I obliged.
“Why can’t I just have her here for the summer? What’s the big deal?”
Guilt tugged at my core. Too much death and blood flooded Hex’s childhood. If I’d been around more. . .
Forget about it, just focus on the here and now.
“Al! Al! Are you even listening to me? Why are you just standing there with your back to me?”
“Because I don’t communicate with grown men who scream and throw things like spoiled children.”
Silence passed for a minute.
What is Elle’s reaction to all of this? She must think we’re crazy like all the tabloids have said.
I would’ve turned around, but feared my eyes would linger. Plus, I didn’t have the guts to face Hex with my deceit. With all the things I’d dealt with in life, lying to my brother still teetered on difficult.
“Al?” Hex asked in a calm voice. “Why are you all of a sudden limiting how long my models can stay here?”
The best method was to stay as close to the truth as possible. If not, then Hex would begin investigating. “I’m concerned with so many people being on the property. There are other family members we have to consider.”
“Grandma?”
“No.”
Did that get your attention?
I didn’t say the name, but Hex didn’t need me to. We were a family of only four. All the other relatives had either died, were killed, or still lived in Cuba.
“Did anything happen?” Hex’s voice lowered.
“Not yet, but it doesn’t hurt to be safe.”
With the way this conversation is going, Elle will probably leave the property herself.
It was in that moment, when she spoke, “I need this job to last as long as it can.”
I glanced over my shoulder. She sat up with her legs crossed and sprawled along the edge of the mattress. She looked professional in her lady-like pose, but sexy all the same. A scorching heat spread across my skin. She raised her arms and undid the bun on top of her head. “I’ll stay out of trouble and far away from any of your family.”
Those luscious strands rained down on her skin. Both Hex and I gaped at her. Our bodies froze into our positions. We were her puppets, ready to do whatever she needed. Hex must’ve longed to mold her into the images he created in his head as well as be inspired by the beauty before him. While I craved to stroke that delicate skin and run my fingers through her tresses as she moaned with hunger. I would grip a thick section of her hair in my hands, wrap it around my fingers, and take her from behind. And she would scream my name.
My pants strained with the weight of my stiff length. My mouth went dry. My heart sped up at an erratic pace.
“Is there some way I can work for the whole summer?” She ran her fingers through her hair and spread it out to cover her entire upper body like a shirt. The movement should have calmed me down, but instead I yearned for her body even more as she concealed it from me.
She has to know what she’s doing to us.
“Maybe you can stay the whole summer,” I blurted out.
I’ll have to see Madam Miriam tonight and have her schedule me with a woman. One with long black hair and pale skin, who would let me call her Elle.
“Then it’s settled. She stays all summer?” Hex didn’t turn my way as he continued to gawk at her. “We can get more help with our relatives.”
In other words, we would hire more security and another nurse to help with the twenty-four-hour shifts. I’d already planned to do that, but now Hex would assume it was his idea and not have his curiosity teased.
“I’ll get on that right now.”’
“Thanks so much,” Elle said.
I’ll definitely call Miriam tonight. Maybe have her schedule me with two lovely ladies with long black hair.
But I never got the chance to call Madam Miriam as screams sounded from outside Hex’s studio.
Chapter 3
Elle
Alvarez and Hex begged me to stay in the studio while the women continued to scream. I spent several minutes alone, getting dressed and putting my hair back up. A whole lot of commotion sounded beyond the walls. Although I peeked through the window curtains, I didn’t get much information.
Outside, a tiny old woman stood barefoot in the grass, spitting out Spanish and wagging her hands up and down. She had that same tan complexion like Hex and Alvarez and those beautiful brown eyes that both men shared, too. Is this their mother, maybe? Wrinkles covered her cheeks. Her silvery white hair fell to her shoulders. Next to Alvarez’s huge frame, she looked tiny and was probably shorter than me.
However, what she didn’t have in height and width, she made up with her voice and authority. Both men remained silent. Hex just stood by with his hands in his coveralls and a distant look toward the castle. Alvarez nodded at appropriate times and massaged the temples of his forehead. And then she turned her gaze to the window I peered out of. My body tensed as she watched me intently without blinking or looking away. The expression on her face never shifted. I had no idea if she was mad, curious, or happy with the fact that some stranger was staring at her from inside Hex’s studio.
She muttered one more thing and stomped my way. I fled from the window. What else could I do? I had no idea what she would say to me. Granted, from watching her talk to the guys, I didn’t think she was the type to hold back her thoughts for t
he sake of manners.
“Where are you, little one?” The old woman’s voice flowed into the space first, and then she arrived. I’d figured she was small, but realized that she was even smaller. She headed my way with a wide smile that made her wrinkled, tan cheeks rise. “I see a glow in you. It rushed out to me from the window. I couldn’t ignore it.”
“Uh . . . thank you?”
“Let me get a good look at you, child. My eyes aren’t like they used to be. My visions are clear, but everything else is filled with shadows.” She got on her tip-toes and seized my face with cold hands. “What’s your name?”
“Elle.” I bent over so that she wouldn’t have to remain on her toes, but I still wasn’t sure where this was going.
“No. What’s your real name? You’re not an Elle.” She closed her eyes.
“I was born Elena.”
“Hmmm. I like Elle better, but yes, Elena is your name. Who calls you Ellie? That word keeps being whispered around you. Ellie. Ellie. Ellie. The person doesn’t stop saying it.”
I parted my lips in shock. “No one calls me that, not anymore.”
She sucked her teeth a few times. “No. No. You’re lying. Someone calls you Ellie. A man. He’s saying it right now in drunken slurs. Ellie. Ellie.”
I swallowed in my nervousness. “My . . . ex-boyfriend used to call me Ellie.”
“Well, he’s looking for you, and he doesn’t sound like he’s a sane one.” She opened her eyes. Instead of those brown pupils among white, her entire eyeballs had transformed to a gray film that brightened in front of me. I shrieked and jerked back, but her hold on my face tightened. She shushed me and whispered, “Don’t move or this will hurt the both of us. You don’t want this kind of pain, girl.”
I shivered under those tiny fingers as they became colder. Power radiated from her skin and vibrated against mine like one would experience in a mounting heat wave or sitting on the hood of a car right as it started. There was something there that I couldn’t touch or see, but slid against my skin, nonetheless. I didn’t like it. Whatever it was, I trembled some more as the cool sensation moved over my flesh.
