Every Night (Brush of Love 1) - Page 8

“There was more to him than that. I was there. I witnessed it.”

“I will not spend my days hyping up the life of a junkie,” my mother shrieked.

“Then you will never be the parents you think you are, so stop fucking acting like it.”

Before they could respond, I stormed out of the house. I was shaking as the door slammed behind me. I couldn’t believe them. The words that had spilled from their lips. I ripped my phone out of my pocket and called for another Uber, putting in a note that I’d tip double for someone to get here quick. I didn’t want to stay here another second.

As far as I was concerned, they were dead to me, too.

The car pulled up into the driveway when I heard the front door open. I climbed into the car as my father shouted at me, chastised me for disrespecting them in their home, and yelled to never come back unless it was to apologize. I had no intentions of apologizing to them after all they’d done and after the way they’d treated my brother’s death, acting like it was just some inconvenience to their image.

I heard my father screaming all the way down the driveway, his voice finally fading away as we pulled out onto the road.

When I got home, I pulled out a wad of cash and shoved it into the driver’s hand. I stumbled up to my porch and got myself up to bed, not bothering to lock the door behind me. I fell into bed, my body heavy with alcohol and sorrow as silent tears poured onto my pillow.

I missed my brother more than I could stand, and I wished my parents were simply better people.

I kicked my shoes off and slid underneath the covers, happy to sleep this alcohol off. I closed my eyes and allowed my breathing to even out, whisking my body away to another world where John was still alive and holding hands with an ebony-skinned beauty he simply couldn’t rip his eyes from.

But during the dream, a woman was holding my hand, too, a woman with purple hair and an IPA bottle at her lips. She donned that same respectful smile as my thumb traced faceless images on top of her creamy white skin.

The ebony beauty might’ve been faceless in my dreams, but this woman was everything but.

Chapter 2

Hailey

“These areas really are up and coming. The buildings have already been outfitted with electric and plumbing, so you could move right in and get to work.”

The commercial real estate agent driving the car was talking my ear off. We were driving through upscale parts of San Diego trying to find a place where I could settle my art gallery. The buildings were beautiful white stucco with swirls and shapes. Some were painted fun, bright colors. Some were black and silver and outfitted with chrome accents. Anything to bring something hip and new to the area.

It was all beautiful, and that was the problem.

I didn’t like the vibe of the places we were visiting. It wasn’t that I had anything against being upscale. It’s just that upscale was already labeled as beautiful. There wasn’t anything I could add to the area, nothing my art would bring that was different. I wanted my art to inspire and bring beauty to the darkness.

The darkness had already been eliminated by the outsides of these beautiful little shops, which meant my art couldn’t contribute anything.

“So, what do you think? Any of these areas strike your fancy?” she asked.

“Honestly? Not really. Is there an area that’s a bit darker?” I asked.

“Darker?”

“Well, maybe not darker. But not so upscale?”

“These types of places are where you’ll gain the best foot traffic. You’re opening an art gallery, correct?” she asked.

“I am.”

“You want your pieces to sell, right? So you can pay your rent?”

I shot her a wary glance as she continued to drive me through areas I didn’t want to be in. I knew she was trying to sell me on a more expensive building, so she could get a nice cut for herself, but the only thing about to be cut was her because I was about to cut her loose.

“My art will sell anywhere. That’s the beauty of it, but I can’t bring beauty to a place that’s already beautiful.”

“Ah, you want to be the center of the beauty, not merely enhance it,” the agent said, grinning.

“No. I want to introduce beauty to a place that isn’t always labeled beautiful,” I said.

Tags: Lexy Timms Brush of Love Romance
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