Chapter 18
Dean
“Neo!” I call out intothe house as I slip my wallet into my back pocket and grab my suit jacket.
“Yeah?” Neo asks, poking his head out from Rosie’s room and into the hallway. By the looks of it, Rosie got to him with her makeup too. I grin at his goofy appearance, but he only smiles back.
“I’m going to the club to see Harlow. Cass and Axel are at the office dealing with some stuff for the company, so you're on Rosie duty,” I say.
He steps out into the hall. “So, you're finally going to have that long awaited conversation with her?”
“Yeah.” I look at him and nod, sighing as I run my hand through my chestnut hair. “It’s past due, and if we're going to take things from friendship into something more, she needs to know everything. I... I need to be around her more. She makes me a better man, Neo. When I'm with her, the need to control every aspect of the day... it just... vanishes. When she's not around, I feel like my mind is in total chaos.”
“I know the feeling, man. She’s like the answer to everything. Just having her in the same room does wonders for me. Well, good luck. I know once she knows the truth, she will understand why you did what you did. You had good intentions.” He gives me a sympathetic grin as he pats my shoulder.
“I hope so.”
We say goodbye and the whole way there I go over what I’m going to say and where I should start. I want to tell her everything so that she has all the information about my past as well as what’s going on inside my head so she can make an informed decision.
“Hey.” I nod at Evie who is sitting at the bar talking to Roxy.
“Hey. You looking for Harlow?” she asks.
“Yeah, is she around?”
“She’s in the showroom.”
“Oh, is she busy?” I ask, my brows furrowing as I shove my hands into my pants pockets.Meaning, is she currently murdering anyone?
“No. She’s been done for a little bit. But she's doing her art therapy, so you should be good.”
Art therapy.What kind of art would she be doing down there?
Leaving the girls be, I head down the stairs. As I make my way into the room, I can hear Harlow humming. It’s not a song that I know, but it has a beautiful melody.
As she comes into view, the first thing I notice is the dead body on the ground with its chest cracked wide open. Harlow leans over and dips what I think is a paintbrush into the chest cavity before bringing it up to the canvas in front of her.
“So, this is art therapy?” I ask, not all that surprised by the sight before me.
She turns around in her spot on the floor beside the body and gives me a wide smile, like she doesn't have a dead body next to her and is using its blood to paint... Well, I don't really know what it is that she's painting.
“I find it relaxing.” She shrugs. “And the blood is just paint for the body, but from the inside. So really I’m just showing the inner beauty.” She lets out a soft musical laugh. “Plus, it's a really pretty color.”
“Who am I to argue?” I smile.
“So what’s up?”
“Can we talk?” I ask.
“Sure.” She tosses the brush into the open chest and stands up. I swallow thickly when I see what she's wearing. Her hair is up in a messy bun, her face bare of any makeup, except for the crimson lipstick and matching blood smears. She's dressed in white lace lingerie that's splattered in blood.
She’s fucking gorgeous and my cock stiffens instantly. I could argue that it’s the lack of sex I haven't been having, but really, how can I not get hard as stone when I’m in a room with a goddess.
As she walks over to the couch, my eyes glue themselves to her hips as they sway back and forth, making her plump ass jiggle with each step.
“Are we gonna talk, or are you just gonna stare at my ass all day? I’m cool with either one.” She smirks at me over her shoulder.
Clearing my throat I redirect my gaze to her eyes. “Right,” I say moving over to sit next to her on the couch.