Chapter 6

Sterling - Chapter 6

Sterl wasn't sure what to think. The showing was in a week, and all his work was sitting out where anyone could see it. They'd been asked to come by the gallery to see if the placement of his paintings were all right with him. It was scary to think that he was going to have people judge him in seven days. As he held onto Marty's hand, he tried to calm his wolf. They were both freaking out a little. Marty stopped him and grabbed his chin, making him look at her.

"Breathe." He nodded. "No, you're not breathing. You're doing this short pant thing that is going to make you pass out. Take a breath in and let it out slowly. Come on, do it."

He did as she told him, but it wasn't helping. He was dizzy with anxiety and sick to his stomach. When she snapped her fingers in front of his face, he let out the breath that he'd not realized he was holding and looked at her.

"They hung them up." She pointed out that's what they did in a gallery. "I know that, but these are mine that they hung up all over the place."

"Again, that's what they do when they have a spectacular artist. Did you really expect they'd hide them under great big sheets and have people guess what was under them? Like that show...the one where you have to pick a door. Remember that one?" He told her that he didn't like her right now. "You love me, and you also know that I'm right. Don't think of it as your work and look around. It looks lovely, don't you think?"

They were displayed nicely. The four that he'd done at his bleakest time were hung in order of his painting them. They were good looking paintings until you got close enough to see what was really hidden in them. The darkness of that night and the following hours were right there for anyone to see. A Nightmare on Canvas was what his grandma had called them when asked the series name. Sterl thought that it was perfectly named because that was just what it was. A nightmare.

There were other paintings, just as dark as the first set was, in this room as well. There was the she-devil that he'd painted one night when he'd seen her face in his dreams. Other paintings were spread out over the gallery, hanging on walls of white so as not to distract from their beauty. One set showed the way he'd felt, his body torn up, his mind a turmoil of the thoughts that had been there from her. Then there was the last set of paintings.

These he had called Redemption. The five paintings were lined up so that they made one continuous picture. There was the oak tree in the middle, its roots going deep within the pits of hell. The demon took up one whole canvas to the right, his body filling some of the space in the one next to it, and there was little doubt that this man was from somewhere not of this earth. The dagger lay at the feet of someone, but their faces were blurred so that no one would know that it was his brothers. He hadn't done that consciously, but his heart had done it so that no one would ask questions of them, or him for that matter.

The other two, including one of the she-devil, were on the left. These frightened him the most. One was of her, her body white as a ghost and her long flowing hair wrapped around the man in front of her. It wasn't what had happened, but it seemed fitting to show that she had control over one of them. Mostly him. The painting to the left was of hell, or at least his interpretation of it. There were bodies there, some of them entwined in sexual positions that defied any kind of imagination, except for his. He stared at this one, knowing that on some level it was as true as anything else that had happened to him that day.

Then, within the liquid looking blood red water, there were bodies. Faces of people that had been taken there for one reason or another. Blurred, so no one could tell who they were or if they were someone that they knew. He'd done that too, on purpose, but he could name a few of them. He supposed in some morbid way people would see who they wanted, put faces to the people there to feel some sort of satisfaction in their life. Sterl saw only one, and thankfully she could no longer bother him and his family.

The parents of the she-devil were there as well. He had no idea why their faces had come to him when he'd been painting this. Also, the people that had, over the centuries, come to the aid of Helenia, the creature that had nearly killed him. Sterl stared at them, all those people that had been as much a part of his nightmares as the woman herself.

"There is a great deal of interest in this series." He looked over at Isaac when he spoke quietly. "I used a part of it, only a small glimpse of it, to put on the fliers. There have been a couple of dozen calls to my office from people asking to see the rest of it. I haven't answered them except to say the show dates and times. This alone should bring in a great many people. I need to ask you, because there are as many questions as there are reasons you gave me to remain at a distance from this. But are you still going to remain private?"

"Yes. I'm not sure what people will say, and I'm a little overwhelmed by this." Isaac said he could understand that. "My family is going to come too. I had to tell them. They're coming into town in a couple of days to do some shopping. They don't want to come to the gallery until the night of the showing. To be honest with you, I'm not sure I want them here at all."

"I'm sure that they'll be supportive of you." He frowned and Sterl asked him what was wrong. "My brother is giving me a hard time. I don't know what to do about him. I told you that he's been fired, but he's scaring my family a little, especially my wife."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?" Sterl wasn't sure what he could do, but he'd help the man if possible. "I can have someone come and guard your family if you'd let me. I have some very persuasive friends."

"You mean the vampire? Or the pack?" He told him both. "Noah came by the other day. He was very helpful in helping us set this up. Your grandmother called him, I guess, and told him what was going on with my brother. I had no idea that Robert could be so destructive."

Grandma had told him about how Isaac's brother had tried to destroy some work that had been brought in a few weeks ago. Not his, but things that were set to go into the gallery from local artists. Robert had taken an axe to some of the boxes the work had arrived in, but lucky for everyone, the merchandise had already been removed. But the back door and a few other items hadn't been so lucky.

"You just say the word and I can have men watching your family as well as the gallery." He told him that he'd like his family watched over. "Anything. I don't know what this will bring you, this showing of mine, but I owe you so much for taking me on."

"We're both going to be very happy at the end of this. I'm positive. One of your paintings is already sold, as you know, and the rest will as well. And any time you get more work done, give me a call and we can work out something again. This is the best art we've had in here for a very long time." Sterl wasn't so sure about that, but he thanked him.

Marty joined him just as he was moving to the room where the last of his work was hanging. It seemed such a waste to him, to have his paintings spread out all over the big building. Isaac had told him it was to have a better showing. Give people the opportunity to gather it all in before going to the next work. Marty kissed him quickly and stood in front of the painting simply called Death.

"I love this one, by the way." He asked her why. "I'm not sure how to explain this, but it's like you've looked deep into my soul, all my nightmares and memories, and put them here." Sterl looked at the painting while she continued to explain. "See, when you look here, you see the flowers and roses nodding in the sunlight. But it's not there, it's an illusion. The roses are really blood splatters. The flowers are the print on the dress that the woman who has been killed is wearing. The trees look to be in the full bloom of fall, but they too are covered in blood. This place where it looks like it's a picnic, it's really a covering for the other deaths. You've created what should be a nice family outing and made it a horrific murder scene."

"I don't know where this came from." She nodded. "When I started painting this one, I saw just what you started to see at first. Then the paint seemed to take on a different scope. The deaths of the people were there, but not until you looked hard enough to see them."

"Yes, I see that. You're very good at that. You give the first impression of it being a nice normal picture, then as you look at it, you can see more and more of what really is going on. Like that knife." He looked where she was pointing and he nodded, asking her about it. "I've seen this painting twice now, and I've only just seen the knife sticking from the basket. That's scary to think that these people were killed by the very blade that they brought with them to have a bit of cheese with."

The two of them wandered around the gallery. There was other work in the rooms with his, but not many pieces. Soft art, Isaac had called it, to give the viewer a little bit of a break. Marty told him what she'd discovered when she'd been working with Noelle for the last few days. He knew she was trying to relax him a little, and loved her all the more for it.

"She's very good at what she does. Did you know that?" He said that he did. "She wants me to travel with her for a few weeks. I guess she's worried about doing much more after the New Year. I don't blame her. Not with the babies coming and all. And she said that I could teach her a few things that I learned in college. Which, now that I brought it up, I do want to finish."

"And you should. Take as many classes as you need, so long as you aren't too tired when you come home at night to be with me. But about Noelle. I'm glad that the two of you are working in the shop. She's busy all the time now, but I think she still gets lonely. I know I would. And she's getting tired more often now. Carrying twins would be very hard on her. She's so small." They were at the front of the building when he looked out. "How about I take you to the diner over there, we go back to the hotel, and I ravish your body? That way I can take a nap before I have to come back here to pose for pictures."

"I heard that Isaac wants you to be all pretty for this." Sterl groaned. "Yes to all of that, by the way. I had to go do a little shopping for some nicer under things. The dress that was provided by the house, it didn't have anything like that with it."

"I'm thinking that it meant for you go naked under it." She stopped so suddenly he took several steps before turning to look at her. "I was kidding, love. I'm sure that it forgot."

"No. I think you're right. The way that it's cut.... Yes, I do believe that you're right. I'm to go naked under the dress." He was the one left behind when she started walking again. "Wait until you see it. It's so nice that you.... Where are we going?"

He had grabbed her hand and was dragging her back to the hotel. The thought of her naked anywhere was enough to make him stone hard. But he wanted to see this dress, or perhaps her naked self that was going to be under it. As soon as they entered the hotel and got their messages, he took her to the elevator and kissed her even as the doors were closing behind them. Sterl wasn't sure they were going to make it to the room at this rate.

~*~

Marty was holding her clothing to her body as they sprinted to their room. Sterling had torn buttons from her blouse, broken the hooks on her bra, and had ripped her pants down one side to her knee. Not that his clothing fared any better.

She'd tried to be careful with his shirt, but once he bit her in the throat, all bets were off. Marty could only think of one thing, having him inside of her as soon as possible. She almost felt sorry for the guy watching the camera monitors. There was a camera in every elevator, she'd noticed, and wondered briefly how often he got a peep show.

As soon as he had the door to their room unlocked, she was naked. When he pressed her to the door and told her not to move, she had only a second to realize what he was going to do. His large wolf was at her pussy, bringing her to peak twice before she had to hold onto the wall behind her.

Her knees were weak, her body spent, but he didn't stop as she slid to the floor. Her legs were nudged open by his large head and he continued to devour her as she fell to the floor on her back. Even after coming so many times she'd lost track, as soon as Sterling was over her, his body pressing into hers, she knew that she needed more.

"I love you." He kissed her then, showing her with more than words that he did truly love her. "Will you marry me soon, today if I can manage it?"

"Yes, and I'll love you forever." He took her then, filled her with his cock over and over until she was screaming out her need. Then he licked her throat, and she knew that this was going to be it for her. And as soon as he bit down on her, Marty came apart for one final time before she passed out completely.

Upon waking she realized something was wrong. Rushing to the bathroom, she saw Sterling bent over the commode throwing up. Touching his back with her hands, she offered him comfort in the only way she knew how. She told him he was going to be fine and that she loved him.

"I can't do this." She asked him what he meant. "Go through with this opening. What the fuck was I thinking? I can't go there and hear what people think of my work."

"Why do you care?" He looked at her and asked her what she meant. "Are you going to stop painting if they don't sell? Is this going to be all you ever do with your talent?"

"I don't think I can. It's like a salve over open wounds." She nodded and sat on the floor with him. "You're making a point that I'm trying my best to understand. But my head is pounding with terror and my heart is beating about ten million times a second."

"No one knows who you are as a painter but your family, correct?" He nodded and leaned back against the tub after flushing the commode. "Do you remember what your family said when you told them that night? How they were so proud of you for doing something that you were good at? I don't think they would have cared if you were good or not so long as you were happy. Am I right on that too?"

"My family has always been supportive in everything I do. As they are with the rest of them. But again, I don't understand where you're going with this." Marty grinned. "Are you trying to tell me that I'm being stupid for worrying about this?"

"No. God no. What I'm telling you is that you go to this opening with an open mind and hang around with your family. And if you're really good, I know where the closet is that has a nice lock on the door where I can distract you." He smiled. "There you are. And I'll tell you something else. I have a good idea that you're going to walk away from this with a great deal of praise, as well as more people wanting all of your work than you ever imagined."

"Why?" She asked him what he meant. "Why is it you think that I'm going to be successful at this? I mean, these paintings are of nightmares. Mine and my family's. There are things in them that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Why is it you think that anyone is going to want them in their homes?"

"Because I think that there are more people out there having the same sort of nightmares, the same fear that haunts them daily, and no way of dealing with it. You, Sterling Calhoun, showed them that in your pain that they can find an outlet. That there is hope for them. Not necessarily in painting, but something else, something they might not even be good at, but like you said, a salve over an open wound. And not only that, but you can give them something more to focus on than their own pain for a little while." He nodded and leaned his head back against the glass doors of the shower. "You can do this, Sterling. I know that if anyone can, it'll be you. You might even find that not only are you good as an artist, but people won't be harsh to you."

"What if someone figures it out? That I painted them? That it's me in those paintings?" She told him not to borrow trouble where there wasn't any yet. "I'm not borrowing trouble, love. I'm just trying to be realistic."

"No, you're trying to convince yourself that no one will want them, and you already know that some people have already been interested in your work." He laughed. "What is it now, big guy?"

"Are you always this supportive?" Marty told him she'd never had anyone that loved her before. "Good answer, but not answering my question."

"No. Usually I'm the one that stays back out of harm's way and lets the world go on around me. Regardless of the outcome too, I'm willing to go with the flow of things so no one notices me." He pulled her to him and she laid her head on his shoulder. "Now, we have things to do today that are not going to get done while we sit here. I need to go shopping for some gifts for your family, and you have some contracts to sign with Isaac. Who, by the way, I really like."

"I do as well." Neither of them moved to get up. "A few months ago, Myra came to me and told me that someone was coming into my life that would mean a great deal to me. I thought it would have been you, but she assured me that it was a male. I think she was talking about Isaac. He has come to mean a great deal to me."

"He is very special to me as well. Did I tell you that he helped me out with this dress by sending his wife to help out? She's amazing…Gloria is her name, and their little boy's name is Benson. He's adorable as well." Sterling finally stood up and helped her to stand. "Are you okay now? I mean, do I have to beat you around a little to get you in a better frame of mind?"

"No. I think I'm going to be all right now." He hugged her to his body and she was warmed by it. "I truly love you, Marty. And you and I are going to get married as soon as I can arrange it."

"Good. I need you to be a permanent fixture in my life."

She turned on the water in the shower and he pulled out his kit to shave. They'd both have to come back here before the opening, but for now they were going to enjoy the day. She really did want to get some shopping done before his family arrived.

Her cell was ringing as she came out of the bedroom.

"This is Robert Sullivan. I'm trying to reach someone by the name of Calhoun. I don't have a first name." Marty told him she was a Calhoun. It wasn't true yet, but it mattered little in the larger scheme of things. "The painter? If so, then you're the one that I need to talk to. I want you to pull your art from the gallery now."

"Why would I do that?" He laughed but didn't explain. "I know who you are. You're the brother of Isaac. He said that you were scaring his family and had done some terrible things to his work. We've been working with him on this opening, and we've become good friends."

"I don't really care what you think Isaac is doing for you, but you should know that he's a cheat and a womanizer." She laughed at the stupidity of the comment. "You don't believe me? Well, he threw me out of the building for no reason. He's even gone so far as to keep me from my sister-in-law and niece."

"You have a nephew, not a niece, and it was my understanding that you threatened them. And you tried to destroy the art that was a part of an exhibit." He told her that he'd been upset for being fired. "That's more than being upset, it's nastiness on your part. Why do you think I should take the paintings from the gallery? Are you going to do something to the building?"

"I've had enough of him and his rules. He was supposed to keep me on as a favor to our mother, but he fired me for no good reason. And even if he had one, I'm his brother and he should have let it all go. Sometimes I think he's just doing this to get back at me for being the smarter of the two of us." Marty asked him how he'd come to that conclusion. "Have you seen some of the work he has in there? Why, none of it is going to bring him much in the way of money. And we all know that's what makes the world go around. And that's another thing, he stopped paying me."

"Well, if you don't work there, you really shouldn't expect to be paid, now should you?" He said that he did. "Well, I guess it really sucks to be you then. Get yourself a job, don't bring prostitutes to work, and try to keep your nose clean. That's the best advice that I can offer you."

"I want you to pull the paintings you have in there. I want him to fail." She told him no just as Sterling came out of the bedroom. Putting the phone on speaker, she let him listen in. "You're going to regret this. I was going to pay you dearly for them."

"You just told me that you hadn't been paid. Where are you supposed to get this money you're telling me about?" He told her that he'd been stealing for a long time. "You mean from your brother and the artists that are in the gallery?"

"Not that anyone missed any of it. But yes, both were good resources for ready cash. Why not? And if he'd not barred me from coming into the building, I would have stolen some of yours as well. You see, I'm doing you a favor by not stealing from you, so you should compensate me so we can both make some money." She looked at Sterling when he laughed. "Are you making fun of me? I don't think that's very nice when I'm trying to talk to you. Honey, you have no idea what sort of money I can come up with by stealing and then reselling things in that place."

"Oh really? Well, I guess it's a good thing you can't get in there anymore. And yes, as a matter of fact, I am laughing at you. You're insane. Not to mention lazy and a thief, as well as an idiot." Robert told her that he resented her calling him an idiot. "But the rest of it, you're fine with that?"

"Of course. It's all true, so why deny it?" He laughed and Marty looked at Sterling, who was shaking his head. "So, by this I'm assuming that you're not going to take your work from the gallery? It's too bad really. I think we could have come to like each other. I know that I could have made a bit of cash off you. But now I guess you'll have to be dealing with me after he fails. Sullivan is a respected name in the art world, as you know. But I wouldn't expect to get any money from me. I have expenses, and once I'm the owner, as I should have been, then you will be shit out of luck." He closed the connection after that.

"He's nuts." Sterling laughed. "I mean, like really off his rocker nuts. Why is he admitting that he's not only a thief but also a blackmailer? And he even admitted that he wasn't going to pay us should he ever be in charge of the gallery. He needs someone to keep an eye on him before he hurts someone. Namely, Isaac and his family."

"I agree, and I've spoken to Trent. He's going to put a few more pack around the Sullivan home, as well as the gallery. He said that he has his best man on Isaac too." She told him what he missed from the early part of the call. "Why do you think he thought you'd just turn them over to him? I mean, really? How does he even make that work out in his head?"

"I don't know, but I think we need to be ready for about anything tonight at the preopening. He's not going to go away nicely." Sterling said he didn't think so either. Marty had no one she could call in to help them, but she was going to be ready. This wasn't going to go well, she thought.