Complementary Colors (43 page)

We destroyed everything.

Every canvas, painted, not painted, shelves, brushes, jars of turpentine and mineral oil. Thousands of dollars in tubes of paint were crushed on the floor with their insides smeared.

With Roy’s help, I didn’t even need the anger of the boy who kissed me. Through the destruction, Roy and I fucked each other with violence. Never touching, but moving until we gleamed with sweat, grunted like animals, and strained for release, both riding on the waves of chaos we churned.

When we were done, the studio swam in the remains of my hell and the beginning of Julia’s.

I staggered through the mess on trembling legs. Roy led me to the couch. I had a second to think about how the paint on our bodies would ruin the leather, and then I decided I didn’t care.

We collapsed. Me in his arms, heaving like there was no air to breathe. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t pull my gaze off of the apocalypse.

It was beautiful.

The rabbit surveyed the ruined studio. Paint covered its feet, and there were several blotches on its side. Had it lain down at one point to watch us lose our minds?

Roy petted my head. “I want you to go back to the hospital.”

“Under one condition.”

“What?”

“You use my money to get a lawyer.” Roy stayed quiet. “Julia will make good on her threat. She will try and frame you, and she’ll succeed unless you have someone on your side.”

“Do you have any suggestions?”

I laughed. “I don’t even know where to go to pay the utilities.”

He kissed my temple. “We’ll figure it out.”

“We.” I sighed into shoulder. “I like that. All purple and gold.”

“Sounds pretty.”

“More like strong.”

“That you are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, Paris.”

“Only because you’re here to hold me up.” I put my fingers over his lips. “It’s the truth, so get used to it.”

He cocked his mouth to the side. “We should get a shower.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost nine.”

“We need to get dressed and leave. Alice will be here at ten, and then Julia will be here shortly after. We can make any phone calls on the way back.” To the hospital; with its drugs, nurses, doctors, and locked doors. It had hotel-style rooms and a crappy art studio with crappier paint.

I missed it already. Even the shitty newsprint.

I unwound myself from the sofa. Roy took my hand, and I pulled him to his feet. A dab of purple paint streaked his upper lip and another spot of blue on the edge of his nose. For some strange reason, the colors were perfect on him.

“C’mon.” I tugged him in the direction of the stairs. We stopped when the elevator door opened.

Julia’s presence filled the lift. She was a lot shorter than me and several pounds lighter, but in that moment, she seemed ten feet tall and half a ton.

It was the air around her. It danced with jagged points of red and black.

Stray locks of her perfect hair stuck out to the side, leaving a visual path of where she had run her hand through it over and over. Maybe even pulled. I’d never known Julia to pull her hair.

She wore a peach-colored pants suit but no makeup. It might have been washed away because her eyes were puffy like she’d been crying for hours.

There was a small caliber gun in her right hand.

Over the years, I’d seen Julia in all stages of anger, all temperatures of rage, but in that moment, there were no words to describe the venom boiling in her eyes. It should have terrified me.

She stopped at the edge of the foyer. Her gaze went from me to the destruction of the studio. Her expression remained the same, but I couldn’t shake the feeling she was almost pleased with what she saw.

“I got a call this morning from the real estate agent managing one of the rental properties. Apparently, the people leasing the place woke up to a bunch of cops crawling over the yard.” She brushed her hair away from her face, but it clung to her cheeks in sticky clumps. “What did you tell them, Paris? What lies have you started up?”

“No lies.”

“Of course, it’s lies. It’s always lies. That’s all you do is lie.” Her voice spiked an octave with every word she spat until spit flecked her lips.

“What was his name?”

Her eyes widened a moment, then a sneer pulled her lips into a grotesque shape. “Juan, Julio, Pablo, pick one. It won’t make a difference. He was nothing but a worthless immigrant. No one knows who he was, and no one cares.”

“I do.”

She adjusted her grip on the gun. “Like I said, no one cares.”

“It’s over, Julia. Everything. The lies. Not mine. Yours. They know everything.”

“Fires burn hot, little brother. Fueled by flammables like turpentine, oils, and paints, they can burn really hot.” She raised the gun and pulled the trigger. A line seared across my shoulder. The glass on the french doors shattered behind me.

Blood cut a beautiful crimson path down my arm. Roy pulled me to the side. She fired again. Fragments of brick pelted my cheek.

With the open floor plan, there was nowhere to hide. The rabbit darted around the partition and into the kitchen. I pushed Roy to follow, but another shot plugged the wall near my head. We scrambled back to the corner.

We would die. Julia would make sure of it. Then she would set the place on fire, and there would be nothing left. Maybe it would kill more than just us. Maybe it would burn down the whole building.

But she was incapable of caring.

The rabbit peeked around the corner of the cabinets and bobbed its head. Before I even had time to run, Julia fired off another shot.

Roy jerked and a bloody flower bloomed on the thigh of his boxers. He fell against the wall. With all the noise, it was no wonder no one heard the lift doors open or saw Alice walk in until she said, “Did you shoot Andrew too?”

There was a second of fear in Julia’s eyes. Maybe even some shame. But it vanished so quickly I could have imagined it.

“I thought I told you to go shopping.”

“I did.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“The store refused the bank cards. I called the bank, but they said that information was private.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They said the accounts had been frozen, but they wouldn’t tell me why.”

Julia’s anger blazed hotter. I was almost grateful she had a gun. Otherwise, she might have found a much slower way to kill us.

“So did you?” Alice stepped up beside Julia. So calm. So serene. And so very sad. How the hell could she look at Julia with anything but fear?

“Did I what?”

“Shoot Andrew?”

“He ran away.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Yes, he did. Now go home.”

“That’s not what Daddy said.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The day Daddy died. The day you went into the woods with Paris.”

“You’re confused, Alice. Why would I go into the woods with Paris?”

“I don’t know. I never asked. But I saw you.”

“You were in classes all day.”

“I forgot my notes, so I came home.”

Julia looked at her sister. Really looked at her.

“I saw him in Paris’s room. He was talking to Dr. Mason. He told him to come over. He had a gun. He told Dr. Mason, ‘Little boys run away all the time, so what’s one more bullet?’”

While Julia watched Alice, I pulled Roy behind the partition. Another shot rang out. It tore through the thin wall. There was a metallic clang, then one of the copper pots flew off the hook and landed in the floor.

The rabbit skittered in a circle. White framed the rich brown irises of its eyes.

“Tell me, Julia.” I’d never heard Alice yell before. It was frightening. “Did you shoot Andrew?”

“He’s gone. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. To me, it does.” A sob butchered Alice’s words.

I squeezed Roy’s arm. Sweat beaded his forehead. He gripped his thigh, but the blood welled up between his fingers.

The rabbit paused at the other end of the wall, then dashed across the space.

I leaned forward. The rabbit stopped halfway to the elevator and looked back at us.

“Okay.” I nodded. “Okay, we’ll try.”

“Try what?” Roy gave me a questioning look.

I shook my head. There was no time to explain the rabbit. Hell, there was no time for me to even understand it.

“Go home, Alice.”

“I need to know.”

“Why?”

I was almost to my feet when Alice said, “Because if you shot him, then I killed Daddy for no reason.”

The silence was momentary but absolute.

Julia said, “What are you talking about?”

“He laid the gun down on the bedside table and was looking through Paris’s backpack. I picked it up while he was turned around. He asked me what I was doing. I asked him if he killed Andrew, and he wouldn’t tell me. He told me to give him the gun. I wouldn’t, and he yelled at me. Daddy never yelled at me. He tried to take it away. I thought he killed him, Julia. I thought he killed Andrew so I pulled the trigger.”

“Daddy killed himself.” Julia’s razor sharp tone had dulled with muted grays. “The police said so. He put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.”

“I got really close. I wanted to look at him in the eye so I would know if he was lying. I wanted him to tell me the truth, but he just yelled and yelled, and yelled.”

I put Roy’s arm around my shoulder. He shook his head. I think he saw in my eyes I was not going to leave him, because he nodded and helped me stand him up.

“Just go home, we’ll talk about this later.”

“No.”

That was another first. Alice never told Julia no.

“I didn’t have a choice, all right. He knew Daddy was weak. Andrew tricked him. He made him… Andrew was going to ruin everything. His lies were going to put us out on the street.”

I took the opportunity to make a run for the door.

If I could get to the foyer, there was enough of an alcove between it and the lift we’d be shielded. It didn’t even occur to me that the elevator might take time to open. Not that it mattered.

The bullet punched me in the back. Roy tried to catch me, and we wound up in a heap on the floor.

Alice grabbed Julia’s hands, and the second shot shattered a lamp on a side table. Glass fragments littered the floor in chips of white.

The rabbit slipped on the tile and crashed into the wall. It regained its balance, then scurried across the room and dove behind the sofa.

Julia shoved Alice into one of the workbenches and slipped on a smear of paint. Julia tried to counter her fall, but a shredded canvas tangled up in her fancy high heels.

She fell against a stool, it toppled over and both of them went to the floor.

There was a dull pop, then Julia lay there looking surprised. Alice rolled away. Blood gushed from the hole in her back. She got to her knees, reached for the edge of the table but collapsed.

Julia stared at the gun in her hand, then me. Her face turned a shade close to purple. “Look what you made me do!”

Alice dragged herself across the floor.

Julia stood.

“Look what you made me do, Paris.” Tears streaked Julia’s face. She raised the gun, then Alice said her name. She lowered the weapon.

“It hurts.” Alice sobbed on the floor.

I wanted to go to her, but even if it was safe, I’m not sure I could have. The dull throb in my shoulder turned into a creeping numbness. I didn’t even realize Roy was pulling me toward the elevator until the rug in the foyer bunched under my hip.

“Julia.” Alice rolled onto her back. “Julia, I’m scared.”

She knelt beside Alice. It was the first act of remorse I think I’d ever seen her commit.

Julia petted Alice’s cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll call the doctor, and we’ll make everything better.”

It was a lie. I knew it was a lie. If she did, the police would come, and she would have no explanation.

Roy reached for the elevator button. It dinged, and Julia turned.

We were at the right height for a chest or headshot, not moving, and no more than fifty feet separated us. Even with bad aim, she wouldn’t miss, and if she did, all she had to do was take a few steps. The elevator was only seconds away, but it would be long enough for her to clear the room and put the muzzle right to my head.

I think Roy knew too. He shielded me with his body as if he had some hope of stopping this. But he didn’t. No matter how much he wanted it. No matter how much he was willing to sacrifice.

Roy’s scent filled me, his warmth brought me comfort, and the vise of fear choking me fell away. I might die, but it would be in the arms of someone I loved.

A gift I’d never thought possible.

Alice screamed.

One high-pitched angry sound. It should have shattered glass. God knows it shattered all the colors in my mind. I don’t know when she grabbed the canvas blade. Somewhere between where she lay and where she fell. Or maybe it was right there all along.

She shoved herself upright and drove it into the side of Julia’s neck. The gun went off. The ringing sound in my ears swelled until it turned black. Until there was nothing left but the darkness.

“I love you.” I could only hope Roy heard me before it was too late.

They say when you’re about to die your life flashes before your eyes.

All I saw was the boy.

The sunlight split across the edges of falling leaves and made beautiful glowing threads as they turned.

His dark eyes watched me. Not with animosity or anger but with happiness.

Maybe even love.

I waited. Would he take me with him? With the way he looked at me, I was sure he wanted to.

He put his hand on his chest. “Lorenzo Martinez.”

I put my hand on my chest. “Paris Duvoe.”

Then Lorenzo pointed.

Roy stood with his hand out. Lorenzo nodded, and I took Roy’s hand. After that, Lorenzo was gone.

I was afraid his name was only a figment of my imagination. Or maybe a hallucination, like the rabbit.

But it wasn’t.

Lorenzo Martinez had been born on March 1st, 1985, a year before me. He and his mother had emigrated from Spain to join their father in the US. But he died six months after they arrived, and she had to take a job cleaning houses.