Toxic Bad Boy Part 23

The doors were unlocked at seven o'clock and people began steadily streaming in. I was told by my mom, who acted as my agent, that mine and Sydney's paintings were moderately priced. I'd heard my mom brag on the phone to one of her artsy friends that my work was as good as Sydney's even though she'd been to art school. Her enthusiasm was embarra.s.sing.

My dad and Julie were among the first arrivals. I'd warned my mom ahead of time so she wouldn't be blindsided. My mom hadn't been serious with anyone since the divorce years ago and I wondered if it hurt to have my dad's happiness rubbed in her face. Julie would be polite tonight whether she meant it or not.

Even I had to admit Julie looked good. My dad beamed, obviously thrilled at the reconciliation. I spotted my mom pursing her lips as they entered and promptly turning her back on them.

The grownups could work things out amongst themselves.

Gianna and her dad showed up twenty minutes into the show. She'd worn the dress and as a bonus her lips were painted a matching red. Later tonight that lipstick would be smeared.

"I'm really nervous for you," she whispered as I grabbed her hand and led her to get something to drink.

Her dad had wandered off to look at the paintings. Each work had a little metal rectangle underneath with the painting's and artist's names engraved. It was strange to see my name like that.

Handing her a gla.s.s of water, I said, "Don't be nervous, I'm not."

She nodded, taking a sip. "Okay."

From across the room, I saw Norah staring at us with barely veiled jealousy. The emotion was easy to recognize, having felt it so strongly for the two weeks I'd thought Gianna was with Gage. Heading in the opposite direction, I showed Gianna Sydney's work and some of mine she hadn't seen.

My mom came over to give Gianna a hug. "How are you, sweetie?"

"I'm good and how are you?" she asked my mom.

My mom gestured around. "Incredibly proud of my son at the moment."

It was good to hear. I hadn't made my mom proud very often over the past few years. "Me too," Gianna agreed.

"Tell Caleb to bring you with him next time he comes over for dinner."

"Okay," Gianna said, grinning at me.

"I have to go check with Debra about something." My mom squeezed my girlfriend's hand. "I'll see you later."

Gianna turned a sweet smile on me. "I think she's your second biggest fan."

Pulling her closer, I looked down at her. "And who's my number one fan?"

"My mom?" she joked, unable to hold a straight face.

"I'm bored. Want to go make out it Jim's office?"

She tilted her head as if mulling the idea over. "Won't people wonder where you are?"

As if on cue, I heard Jim call my name. "Caleb!" He approached with a smaller middle-aged man. "Meet Thomas Schwartz from Denver Life Magazine."

I shook Thomas Schwartz's hand. "Nice to meet you." Pulling Gianna forward, I added. "This is my girlfriend, Gianna."

Jim's eyes studied her and I knew he was checking her likeness to that of the painting hiding in the back. "Good to meet you, Gianna."

"If you have a few minutes free," Thomas Schwartz said. "I'd like to interview you for an article I'm writing, Caleb."

At Jim's nod, I agreed, "Of course, Mr. Schwartz." Seeing Chris talking to my dad nearby, I told Gianna, "I'll be back in a bit, go hang out with our parents."

She frowned at the order, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng annoyance. "Yes, Caleb."

"Is that the girl from the violent painting Jim has stashed in the back?" Thomas asked.

I shot Jim an unhappy look. "That one wasn't supposed to be in the show."

Jim shrugged remorselessly. "It's one of your best and being sold as a set with the football player."

"Could you please not mention it in the article?" I asked Thomas.

"Of course," he answered. "But could I ask you some questions about your time spent in youth corrections and the subjects of the other paintings?"

Those paintings were much less painful to talk about in comparison to the one of Gianna. After the interview with Thomas Schwartz, Jim guided me over to a reporter from 5280 magazine for a similar set of questions. I spotted Debra making Sydney do the same rounds. After the Rocky Mountain News, there was the reporter from the Denver Post.

By the time we finished, thirty minutes had pa.s.sed and I didn't see Gianna anywhere.

GIANNA.

A girl with dark brown hair, wearing an ivory dress and heels, came up next to me as I stood admiring one of Sydney Atwood's paintings. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"She's really talented," I replied, smiling at the girl next to me.

"So is Caleb," the girl said, grabbing my full attention at the use of just his first name. It wasn't hard to guess who she was. "I'm Norah, by the way."

"Gianna," I introduced myself, although she must know since her roommate tracked me down like a crazy person.

Norah returned my smile. "I know, I recognized you from the painting."

"Painting?" I asked, confused. I'd walked the entire show while Caleb was busy speaking to different people. There hadn't been any paintings of me. I'd recognized Ian in the zoo painting and barely held back laughter. People would've thought something was wrong with me if I'd unleashed my amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Didn't you see it?" Norah asked in bewilderment.

Scanning the large open s.p.a.ce, I said, "No, I think I've seen everything."

She pointed a manicured finger. "It's right back there. Come on, I'll show you."

As I followed her, I noticed she exaggerated the sway of her hips like a runway model. I couldn't help comparing myself to the girl Caleb had briefly dated. She was really pretty and dressed well, even if her dress was a little too short. If I didn't know for certain I had Caleb's heart, I'd be seething with jealousy.

Purposely, I pushed away the reminders of what they'd probably done together.

Norah led me to a secret little room. The walls were a stark white and only two paintings hung on one wall next to each other. Two small spotlights glared down on my nightmare. In one painting was Josh, horrifying in his fury, and the other was me in the worst night of my life, broken and bleeding.

I slapped a hand over my mouth to contain the sob threatening to escape. Backing away from the paintings, I hit a wall. My emotions were wild and I couldn't understand what these paintings were doing here.

"Are you all right?" Norah asked in phony concern, her face close to mine.

Instead of responding, I ran away from my nightmare and right into what I'd thought was my dream. Caleb stood not far from the secret room, obviously looking for me.

Upset, I rushed toward him and pulled my hand back to slap him. The ring of my palm hitting his cheek caused a shocked gasp from an elderly woman nearby.

"How could you?" I yelled at him, uncaring of our audience. "How many people have seen it?"

His arms reached for me, but I backed up and saw my dad heading straight for me with a determined look on his face. I finally took in the people around us. From some of the pitying expressions I knew which ones had seen the painting so far.

"Gianna," my dad said. "What's going on?"

My mom and Scott weren't far behind him.

"I'm sorry," Caleb said in a tortured voice. "I hadn't meant for it to be in the show."

"Then why did you paint it?" I asked, becoming more hurt and angry by the second. And where had that b.i.t.c.h, Norah, run off to?

He looked guilty and miserable but I did not give a d.a.m.n. Whirling away from him, I told my dad, "I'm ready to go home."

"Gianna, wait," Caleb protested.

Again, I did not give a d.a.m.n.

Not meeting anyone's eyes to avoid seeing the sympathy they'd reveal, I let my dad lead me out the gallery entrance and to his car. "What happened back there?" he asked as he pulled away from the curb.

Wiping away the tears, I looked out the window. "Caleb and I just broke up again. I really don't want to talk about it, dad."

"What did he do?" my dad asked in a protective tone.

"Something unforgivable."

CALEB.

I stood staring at a spot on the floor until my mom said, "Caleb, I'm sorry. I should have insisted they weren't included."

"I want them taken down," I growled, heading for the little back room.

My mom was behind me as I came to a halt at what I found. There Norah stood, fidgeting nervously with a worried look on her face. "You f.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h," I hissed. "Get out of my sight before I do something that gets me arrested again!"

Hurrying past me, she scurried like the f.u.c.king rat she was. Jim showed up, his eyes wide in panic. I realized that little room was a cell containing my worst crime. I never should have painted them and Gianna definitely never should have been forced to see them.

"Whoa, wait a second, Caleb," Jim protested. "We have a contract."

"Leave him alone," my mom snapped.

"I'm seventeen, I doubt it's legal." Stacked on top of each other, I shoved them at Jim. "I don't care what you do with them, but I better not see those again."

At the relief on his face, I wanted to punch him. "They've already sold. I'll just store them in my office for now."

"I'm leaving," I told my mom as I pushed past Jim.

"Okay, honey," she said softly at my back.

My dad stood next to an equally worried Julie. "Caleb."

"Not now, dad. I'll be home later."

As I walked away from them, I heard Julie say, "Scott, I need to go make sure Gianna is all right."

I'd hurt my girl again when I promised not to. This time I had no excuse for it and I didn't know if she'd be able to forgive me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

"Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever."

-Mahatma Gandhi GIANNA.

Cell phone in hand, I read his latest text message.

I'm at your door. Your dad won't let me in.

I hit reply. Go away, Caleb.

I hate that I hurt you.

Go away, Caleb.

I just need to see you.

I walked over to my window and texted, Look up at my window.

He backed out onto the gra.s.s and saw me holding up my middle finger as I mouthed, go away.

From his clenched jaw and drawn eyebrows, he didn't like the message. I watched as he stalked to his car and got behind the wheel.

And sat.

An hour later he was still parked outside my house.