He chuckles. “Maybe when I’ve been dead for a century.”
“I’m serious, Trick. These could easily go for thousands of dollars—conservatively.”
“So you think during the five missing years of my life, at least some of which I was strung out on drugs, I was selling my sketches, which can take up to two hundred hours to complete one, for…” he gestures to everything else in the room “…hundreds of thousands of dollars?”
I shrug. “Maybe you have a rich uncle … maybe you won the lottery. How much money was in your checking account after the accident?”
“Less than two hundred dollars.” He nods toward the safe. “Apparently I paid for things in cash.”
“So aside from the pastor, you didn’t question friends, neighbors … anyone?”
“Just like here, I didn’t have neighbors to question. The only friends I can remember are from high school but they were long gone by then, and according to my bills, I owned a cell phone but it was never found. I’m sure the numbers under a contact list would have been helpful. Grady had a friend check into my phone records, but most of the calls were to private numbers. Probably drug dealers. I don’t know.” He sighs, running his hands through his hair. “It’s all so fucked-up.”
“Do you want to know?”
His brow tenses. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you had all that cash. Why didn’t you hire a private investigator to dig into your past, fill in the blanks?”
He shrugs. “Once Grady and Tamsen got me through rehab, they convinced me to leave that part of my life behind. I don’t know, like my memory loss was a blessing of sorts. It’s not that they didn’t want my memory to come back. Obviously they went to a lot of work to make this place a reminder of my past. They just want it to be all or nothing. They want me to remember it … not figure it out.”
“Is that what you want? Do you believe it’s a blessing that you don’t remember?”
He scratches his neck, eyes fixed in contemplation. “I think it’s a blessing that I’m clean and sober because I’m not sure I would be had I not lost my memory. But feeling like something or someone from those missing five years could come back to haunt me is the part that feels more like a curse.
“What could haunt you?”
Trick takes slow steps toward me; a wrinkling of worry distorts his handsome face. “Anything that could take you away from me.” With a whisper touch he glides his fingers along my cheeks and down my neck.
I rest my hands on his forearms, closing my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“What if I’ve fathered a dozen children?”
I smile, fluttering my eyes open, a laugh escaping. “Then you’ll have to sell some of this stuff to get paid up on child support.”
“I’m serious. You’re not the first woman I’ve been with.”
I laugh again. “Well, you’re not the first man I’ve been with … not even close.” I pull away from him and start covering up his sketches.
“What if I killed someone?”
I swallow hard but keep my hands busy so he doesn’t see me flinch. “Then I’ll hope the court grants us conjugal visits.” I reply, controlling my nerves and censoring my reaction.
“You’re saying this because you don’t think it’s true. But what if it were?” It’s not always a look, with Trick it’s often just a feeling. Maybe it’s something only I can feel. I used to think it was a challenge, part of his take-me-or-leave-me personality. But as of lately that feeling holds a hint of fear … insecurity.
“What if I die tomorrow? What if you do? What if terrorists attack our city?” I deflate; there really are no words of comfort. “I choose to love you now because there’s no future in what ifs, there’s only now.”
Eyes. On. Me. God, he has the most commanding gaze, a predatory look, that hunted feeling of being cornered where surrender is the only way to survive. “Come.”
*
Naked under a blanket on the couch with Trick, sipping cocoa after incredible sex, it can’t possibly get any better than this.
“When did you first realize your talent?” I lean back against his chest and sip my chocolate bliss.
“The beginning of my sophomore year in high school. Alicia Watson, she was a senior and had the biggest rack I’d ever seen. She was experienced and I told her I was too, but it was actually my first time. Rumors of my skills, all true of course, spread like wild fire within days.”
I twist my body toward him. “What are you talking about?”
He takes a sip, using his mug to hide his smirk. “My talent. After what just happened … you know, the screaming and begging … I assumed you were referring to my sexual talent.”