Chapter Thirty-Five

Raphaël hung up as he walked into Lucas's house, raising a brow at the wide open door.
He found Lucas in his office, throwing things into a bag.
"Uh, are you trying to get yourself robbed, leaving your door open like that?" he asked, pointing a thumb behind him. Lucas only grunted in response, his hair falling haggardly over his face.
Raphaël sighed.
"You need to stop for a damn minute, you're not getting on a plane like this."
Lucas looked up suddenly. "Are you trying to stop me?"
"So you can run me over with your shiny Maserati? No."
Luc turned away, steps slightly off balance from the alcohol sloshing around in his gut. He'd go to Kara. He'd go to her at that very moment and he'd beg her to love him. He needed her.
"I'm going..." Lucas murmured, picking up the phone to get the jet ready.
"Woah, woah, woah..." Raphaël rushed over and lowered the phone from Luc's ear, straight out risking his life. "Hear me out."
Lucas frowned. "Hear...? I don't have time, Raphaël. She's been gone from me for over twenty-four hours, this shit fucking hurts!"
"I know, but there's no point rushing into it when we need to go to the states tomorrow anyway."
The explanation made little sense to Lucas, but since he hadn't been listening in any meetings recently, that was to be expected.
"We've got to pay the Krypton a visit," explained Raphaël, aware that Lucas had been pretty much absent at work recently. God, if he'd known Kara's leaving would turn Luc into a mindless ogre that ran on alcohol, he'd have made her stay so he didn't have to deal with all of this.
But, then again he wouldn't trust anybody else to do the job, seeing as nobody else knew his best friend that well.
Lucas thought it out for a minute then gave a curt nod. "Fine. Or I could just go now and you could catch up tomorrow?"
Raphaël shook his head. "No, Rayan was right, you look like hell. You need sleep, unless you're trying to scare her away."
Luc sighed and slumped down into his chair. "I already did that. Already scared her away..."
A moment of silence enveloped them and Raphaël slowly lowered himself into the chair on the other side of the table.
"Do you understand what you did?" he asked, tilting his head.
Lucas grimaced. The words had been slamming around in his head as he tried to make sense of his actions.
"I don't know... I know why I did it, but now that I think about my reasons, they make no fucking sense. I don't... don't know how I could just so carelessly judge somebody based on the actions of another person. Especially Kara! God, Sauvage, I don't think... I don't think I want to live without her and if I find some imbécile Américain over there trying to take her from me, I might just kill him, I swear."
Raphaël pursed his lips. "I agree... just don't tell Kara of your killer plans."

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Kara sighed for the billionth time as she stared out of the window. The man, who's name turned out to be Justin, brought her to place that he called a "Penthouse suite". The place was basically a freaking glass house on top of a humongous building!! Kara had- embarrassingly- squeaked from fright, looking down at the city of New York below them as they'd gone up in that glass elevator. Gosh. "Glass elevator."
Who on earth came up with such things? They were horrifying! And absolutely breathtaking when you were actually in the penthouse.
She stared out of the floor-length windows that over-looked the city from her temporary studio.
The servants there all knew who "Mr and Mrs Sauvage" were and some of the maids had actually asked her about Isabelle and whether she was coming as well. They seemed to be in absolute love with the Sauvage couple, particularly Isabelle, because Mr Sauvage was scary.
Then the maids would proceed to do a similar version of Celeste's fuss. Fluffing of pillows, over-feeding, loads and loads of concern.
But it was different from Celeste's, thought Kara as she stroked her brand new canvas. The maids were getting paid and Kara felt peaceful there. But Celeste had done it from her heart and Kara had felt love and comfort.
Kara's troubled green eyes flitted over the empty canvas. She couldn't draw... couldn't paint. She couldn't get her soul in the right place. She couldn't find that magic that brought her depth out and poured it out on paper.
With a sigh, she twirled a pencil between her fingers and remembered Luc's reaction when he saw that painting she'd made back at the ranch. He'd looked at her like she was a mythical creature who'd floated down from the sky.
Kara felt the blush rise up her neck.
He'd been so proud of her, she could see and it had meant so much to her. He had meant so much to her. He still did.
Kara closed her eyes, thinking off him. Of the feel of his fingers on her skin and the feeling in her heart whenever he grinned at her. The feel of his hair on her fingers and his lips on hers.
Her wrists moved, and there appeared, like magic a stroke on the canvas. Kara sighed softly, letting herself feel Lucas like he had his arms around her right then. She brought herself closer to the canvas and let her hands move.
Her eyes darkened as the image grew. Soft caresses of the pencil and hard, dark strokes, gentle swirls and sharp jags gave Kara a face unlike any other she'd ever seen or loved. The windows let the sun cast her glow in and Kara felt as though her soul were being raptured. It was getting later in the day, but she didn't notice, she was lost in her art.
In fascination and amazement of what was emerging on her canvas, she continued, perfecting every angle. Darkening and lightening the dangerous pair of eyes above the stubborn nose to perfection, until Lucas stared at her from within her canvas, drawn into her soul. She had his hair pushed back, stubborn strands falling over his temple where she knew he'd continuously try to push them back.
Kara could hardly breathe for the beauty of it, but she continued, determined to perfect it even if she was starved of oxygen.
Eyes fixated on the canvas, she changed her pencil again, swapping it for a broader one clutched in her other hand. Kara brought the shadows in and gave Lucas the danger on canvas that she knew he carried in his own aura.
When she was done, Kara stood back and dragged in a huge gulp of air, her eyes filling. She wanted him back. He hurt her, but she wanted him back so badly and the fear that he wouldn't want the same had her heart crippled in her chest.
With her face getting wet, she slowly came forward and signed the bottom of the drawing. Her first official signature and she wrote it like she'd done it a million times. "Kingsley." graced the bottom of the drawing and Kara smiled shakily at it.
Kara looked around, feeling the storm of emotions wreck through her body and before anything could stop her, she put aside the drawing and sent her hands flying over another empty canvas.
********
Nine hours later, Kara had ignored fifteen different knocks and calls on the other side of the locked door and she sat against the glass, the lights of the city behind her as she stared in fascination at her creation.
She left them pinned, hung and lying about. Some had paint drying and others could be sold at that moment if she wanted. But she didn't want.
Kara stared at all the pieces she'd done of Lucas. She wanted to keep them all for herself. All of them.
Bang bang bang bang! "Miss Kingsley!" called a terribly worried voice. "If you are alright and conscious, please respond! I'm about to call the ambulance and emergency services!" said Justin.
Kara couldn't stop her lips from curling. Gee, people in America sure were easily shaken. Gone for a few hours and they thought she was dead. With a soft sigh, she put her paint stained fingers against the floor and pushed herself up to let them know she was fine before they called cops and the like.
Kara pulled the door open only a little and slipped out before they could see her work, making sure to lock it behind her. She turned around and found about ten terrified faces staring at her.
She lifted her shoulders and dropped them in a shrug. "Uh... what's up?"
The maids all sighed and began fanning at themselves, while Justin just stood there stock-still and looked at her like she'd grown another head.
"What's up? What's Up?!" he asked and the maids began to skitter away from them. "You've been locked in that room for the past nearly twelve hours! We thought you were dead! Do you know what Raphaël Sauvage would have done to me if you were dead?!"

Kara winced. Yikes. "I'm sorry, Justin. Next time I'll take some food in."
He sighed and rubbed his forehead, pointing at her black t-shirt. "It's alright. Apparently, you were working. Sorry, if we disturbed."
Kara shook her head. "It's alright. Can I eat now, though? I'm actually... seriously hungry."
Justin was going to say something, but was cut off as the buzzer went off.
Kara watched him pick up the phone off the wall and bring it to his ear.
"Hello?" he said. She watched as his eyes went wide. "Oh! Good day... uh, evening... hello, sir. Yes, I'm at the penthouse. Are you here right now? I thought you were in France?"
Kara's blood went cold.
It's okay. It's not Lucas. It's not Lucas, it's probably Raphaël. Relax.
"Yes, of course, sorry, sir, it was a security malfunction. I'll let you up immediately."
He hung up and turned to Kara.
"We've got a visitor."