Scorch (Virtues & Lies 2)

“Do I…?”

“Hate it.”

Turning on the spot, I look around. The smell of fresh paint is really faint beneath the Christmas Spice plug-ins dotted around the house. I’ve always hated the smell of paint. It’s another thing he’s thought of.

Everything is spot on. It’s not far off what I envisioned. The kitchen looks desperate to be used. The surfaces are a pristine glossy white that keeps the vastness of the room, but then the bright rugs and dark furniture make it all feel cosy and homey.

It’s a great marriage of our personalities. Christopher likes things clean, straight lines and modern coolness, whereas I love colour. The brighter the better. I love contrast.

“Really fucking epic,” I say as I face him again. “I mean, there’s room for more colour, but we’ll work on getting it right.”

“Ah, you want more colour?”

“That’s ano

ther silly questi—”

Fucking hell! I almost trip over myself as he takes me into the small office off the family room.

Sitting me in the large leather chair behind the glass desk, he tucks me in as he places a large, bright red wrapped present.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” I remind him even as my fingers find the edges of the paper and tear at it.

“Meh, it’s already Christmas Day somewhere.”

I rip the paper as greedily as a child. Christmas is my thing. It was the day of the year all our family came together and there was no talk of anything other than us. Even Dad forgot about everything else.

Going up on my knees, I stretch to get to the edges. The dark frame is thick and bevelled, only just smaller than the large desk it’s sitting on. It’s kind of sadistic that he’s covered the picture itself with a piece of card, but then he’s a bit like that. It’s my fault really for starting the whole work-for-it thing. I wouldn’t change a thing though, so maybe it makes me a glutton for punishment.

“You’re taking your sweet time,” Christopher says, hands balling as he braces himself over the table, beside me.

“Are you in a rush or something?” Running my hands over the card, I look up at him with a teasing smile.

“I’ll take it away.”

“You can’t give and then—”

He silences me with a bite of my lips and a thoroughly stolen kiss. I’m squirming on my knees, holding on to the edge of the table for dear life, when he pulls away with a lopsided grin. His prickly stubble shadows the contours of his face in the most wicked way that makes every cell of my existence need to jump his.

“Precious girl, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away…” A hand lifts to trace my profile with the tip of his finger, running down my nose and tugging on my gaping lips before resting on my chin.

I hold his swallowing stare. The urge to touch him is so great that my muscles ache, the rampageous pounding of my blood through my veins sharp. I need him so terribly bad. I need him to silence the scenarios going around my head from that night.

You would’ve thought killing Tomasz, draining the monster of his life, would expunge his poison. It didn’t. Especially not after seeing what he did to Vanya. There are so many ways I wish I’d hurt him before taking his life.

How could someone have so much evil inside them?

I wonder if he was sorry for all his dark deeds as he felt his life spurt out of him. I hope regret found him in his dying gasp and that it dragged him to hell. I hope it haunts his eternity. I hope the pain he caused in his life afflicts him in his death.

“Hey, you…” Christopher strokes my face with his thumb as he takes a step away. Quietly, he bunches the wrapping paper together before throwing it in the small bin.

Focusing on the frame in front of me, I lift the card away. A bright spectrum of ruby reds, raspberry pinks, and sunshine yellows greets me in the most beautiful swirls.

Two large dark pink handprints frame smaller red ones with two tiny yellow footprints in each palm.

Of course, tears spring to my eyes. Stupid fucking tears. But how can I help it when he overwhelms me with so much love?

“You said you never got to hold her,” he says, looking up at me from where he’s crouched at the side of the desk with his chin resting on the edge. “I can’t change that, but…I…” He shrugs, nodding at the incredible line drawing in front of us.