Bossed Around

Perhaps those things exist somewhere, but they aren’t…rampant.

No one is going to drag me into a hell portal or try to hurt me.

No one is going to influence me into becoming wicked.

What does that mean, anyway? Wicked.

Evil like the women in my uncle’s paintings?

Why are they all evil? Why are none of them like the people on the sidewalks or in the cars beside us at stoplights? Duncan’s words come back to me from the night before.

Maybe you’re painting your own truth, Thea. Maybe it’s what you understand as truth. The world is what surrounds someone. No one has the same understanding of it.

What if my uncle simply had a terrible view of the world? What if his experiences jaded him or made him think ill of people, lock himself away and never give them another chance? What if…I was a victim to his misconceptions and there was never truly a reason to keep me within the gallery walls in the first place?

I want to ask Duncan to pull over so I can crawl into his lap. I want to ask him questions and clarify everything in my mind, even though it scares me to admit that maybe my life, for the past several years, has been a waste. I need him to soothe me.

The ocean comes into view at that moment, however, and my thoughts scatter like grain in the wind.

I throw myself back against the seat, positive the enormity of it is going to swallow me, but it doesn’t rise up like a wave. It remains serene and glittering for miles and miles into the horizon. The car stops moving and absently I hear the click of my seatbelt buckle disengaging. Then I’m being dragged right where I want to be. Into Duncan’s lap.

His lips move in my hair, pressing to my temple. “Watching you rediscover the world is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he rasps, combing his fingers through my hair. “I’m…rediscovering it with you, Thea. The daytime at least. Normally I only come out at night.”

“Why?” I whisper, my cheek pressed to his chest, my gaze on the ocean.

Duncan chuckles—and I realize it’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh. Though there’s no humor in the sound. “How ironic that this world you fear…it fears me. And you keep me on a leash. Don’t you realize you could rule everything you see with your kind of bravery, lass?”

Instead of answering him, I frown into his chest. “Why does the world fear you?”

“You’ve grown used to the way I look. Or maybe…you simply have a sixth sense and know I’d put a knife in my gut before harming you. But others…” He sighs, gives my temple a final kiss. “Why don’t I just show you, instead?”

Duncan climbs out of the car, still holding me in his arms, and kicks the driver’s side door closed. He settles me on my feet carefully and studies my face a moment, before locking our fingers together and guiding me from our parking spot toward the beach.

And immediately, people start to scatter. They try to be subtle about it, quickly picking up their children and hastening toward the opposite end of the beach, but I notice everything. These people take one look at my giant, at his face, and they are scared. Even a group of men, who appear to be on the tougher side, quiet their music and stub out their cigarettes, averting their gazes from the man holding my hand so gently.

I look up at Duncan and for the first time, I really take notice of the scarring on his neck. The angry, red puckers. I see the white slash that bisects his brow and left eye. I’ve always known he was tall, but I’ve had no one to compare him to, save myself. Now I see he’s twice the size of the largest man at the beach. Muscular on top of it—still not wearing a shirt, just pants and hanging suspenders. And those bullet holes in his shoulders…have they always been there or have I been distracted by his gorgeous eyes?

“You see?” He tries to give me a smile, but it strains around the edges, the tips of his ears turning red. “This is how I knew you’d be fine outside the walls, Thea. You’ve already conquered the scariest motherfucker the world has to offer.”

“You’re not scary,” I whisper, my throat aching from wanting to shout at everyone. “It’s like you told me. The world…it’s only what surrounds someone. It’s what they see. Some people might look at my artwork and find chaos. Some will look deeper and find beauty. If they would look deeper at you, they would see what I see.”

“I only care if you see it,” he blurts hoarsely.

I’m not sure if I was born with this intuition or if it arrived at the same time as Duncan. But I know exactly what he needs right now. In this moment. When he’s exposed himself in the middle of this beach, in broad daylight, for my benefit. So I can see the ocean. I know he needs to be anchored, reminded that he’s safe with me. And I give him that without question, because he gives it to me. “I don’t just see the beauty inside of you,” I say, winding one of his hanging suspenders around my fist. “I command it, don’t I? It’s mine.”