The Body Painter (Master of Trickery Book 1)

by Pepper Winters

  Swiping at another lonely tear, I shivered with anger as well as grief. “But it wasn’t me who ruined it this time, Gil. I would’ve stayed away after you’d painted me, resigned to losing you seven years ago and strong enough to move on with my life, seeing as you made it abundantly clear you’d moved on with yours. But, here’s the thing...” I moved toward him, standing on my tiptoes so we were almost eye-to-eye. “Then you went and kissed me and the lies fell apart.”

  He sucked in a haggard breath. “That kiss meant nothing.”

  “That kiss meant everything.”

  “Get away from me.”

  Electricity crackled. Chemistry hissed.

  “Why did you pay me triple the amount you normally pay canvases?”

  “What?” He bared his teeth. “I don’t know what—”

  “You kissed me and paid me far too much money.” My gaze locked onto his mouth. “Why?”

  “You’re driving me insane.”

  “Answer me.”

  His eyes flashed emerald. “Leave.” His nose brushed mine as he bent, forcing the command into my lungs.

  I snapped.

  My arms swooped up, wrapping like vines around his neck. I yanked him into me, uncaring of his injuries.

  He grunted as my lips slammed onto his.

  I kissed him as hotly and as fiercely as he’d kissed me. I let him taste the difference between desire and lies. I let him sample my heart all over again.

  He broke his tightly reined leash.

  His fingers dove into my hair, tangling and knotting, jerking my head back to plunge his tongue past my teeth.

  My legs buckled, but it didn’t matter. He scooped me into his arms, squeezing me against him, plastering us together as if he could never bear to be apart.

  A savage snarl echoed in his mouth as he kissed me so, so hard.

  I forgot about my headache, about this afternoon, about him leaving, vanishing, our jilted love story.

  I kissed him with apologies and promises. I opened wide and gave him everything.

  And he took.

  Ruthlessly and with no finesse, he kissed me as if we were teenagers again, possessed by hormones, in love with the idea of forever.

  His head tilted, kissing my mouth, my jaw, back to my mouth. His tongue was a spear, conquering inside me—forcing me to yield to his complicated desire.

  I gave in. I wanted him to—

  “Fuck!” He roared like a beast, ripping himself away.

  I tripped at the sudden emptiness of my arms, wincing at the licking lust that’d turned into a snake inside my belly, devouring every butterfly, sinking venomous fangs into every hope.

  He stumbled away as if he had to put distance between us in case he did something unforgivable.

  Touching burning lips, I was breathless around tattered heartbeats. “Gil.”

  He didn’t reply, tripping his way into the kitchen and gripping the countertop with both hands. White knuckles and braced legs, his head hung between his shoulders as if bowing at the feet of whatever demon who’d trapped him.

  I wanted to go to him.

  I wanted to hug him, help him, heal him, but...that kiss had ripped out my insides. I was seconds away from bursting into tears. I was lost and hurting, and if I touched him now, I didn’t know what would happen.

  Didn’t know if we’d find our way back together or if I’d break everything.

  I didn’t want to take that chance.

  I wasn’t brave enough to take that chance.

  With tears blinding me, I bolted from his lounge, through his office, and into the warehouse. With jerky steps, I fast-tracked to my handbag, grabbed my phone and winced as the envelope of cash cut my finger.

  He’d looked horrified that I’d figured out he’d paid me too much. Guilty for paying me for a kiss.

  Well, I’d stolen a kiss this time.

  We were even.

  Placing the envelope on the painting table where his air compressor and paint vials lived, I looked over my shoulder.

  Part of me begged him to chase after me. To have vindication that this blinding connection was real. But as my heartbeats grew wilder instead of calm, and my body shook from everything that’d happened, Gil didn’t appear.

  He didn’t chase.

  He let me run.

  He wanted me to leave.

  I’ll come back.

  I nodded to my promise.

  I’ll come back...when I’m strong enough.

  When I had the power to break Gil into admitting the truth.

  When I had the courage to ask him to keep me.

  I had nothing.

  I had no dance. No family. No friends.

  Once upon a time, I’d had Gil.

  And I would fight with everything I had to have him again.

  Keep him safe.

  With shallow breaths, I slung my handbag onto my shoulder and unlocked my phone.

  Keep that bastard away from him.

  Dialling the police, I hadn’t gotten two steps before the line connected with a brusque female, “What’s your emergency?”

  Protect him.

  “Hi, um, I’d like to report an attempted kidnapping?”

  The operator tapped something in the background. “Time the incident occurred?”

  “About an hour ago. Outside Total Trickery—a warehouse down in the industrial area in Birmingham. He...he attempted to drag me into a van.”

  Help him.

  “Okay, we’re sending officers right away.”

  “Oh, no need. He’s gone. I was able to escape.”

  “Do you have a description? A license plate number?”

  Heal him.

  “Yes.” Opening the pedestrian door to leave, I recited. “I got his plate. It’s XT8—”

  Something slammed me into the metal roller.

  My phone tumbled from my hand.

  I slipped quick and deep into darkness.

  Chapter Twelve

  ______________________________

  Gil

  -The Past-

  “YOU DON’T HAVE to walk me home every day, you know.” Olin flicked me a smile.

  A smile that held a few months of history. A smile that said we were friends based on time and not just want.

  “I know.” I hoisted her bag higher along with mine, carrying both like a gentleman should. I wasn’t a gentleman. But I went out of my way so she never figured that out.

  “It’s on the opposite side of town where you live.”

  I stilled. “How do you know where I live?” Ever since the incident with the blood a few months ago, I’d been careful to keep everything about my home life a mystery. I liked Olin too much to let her know I wasn’t a straightforward kid like the others in our class. I liked that she liked me for me. I liked that there was no pity in her eyes. No sorrow. No charity.

  “I don’t.” She sighed, used to me withdrawing on topics of my health and home. “But I’m not blind and I’m not stupid, Gil.” Coming toward me, she slipped her hand into mine.

  Just like the first time she’d done that, I jumped and sucked in a breath, not used to such kindness from touch. Not prepared for the feral need to demand more.

  Having Olin touch me soothed something broken inside me, but it also condemned me to more pain imaginable.

  Schooling the churning confusion in my belly, I squeezed her fingers with propriety.

  We walked for a time, strolling through quaint neighbourhoods and beneath manicured trees before she murmured, “I know you don’t have it easy, Gil. I wasn’t going to ask but...” She tugged me to a stop on the curb of some pretty white house with its pretty white fence. “I’m worried about you. Who hurts you? Your dad? Your mum? You know you don’t have to put up with it, right? We can tell someone. Get you help.”

  I yanked my hand from hers, stalking forward with two bags banging against my rigid frame. “It’s late. Your parents will be wondering where you are.”

  She laughed sadly, trotting to keep up
with me. “You know they don’t wonder. They’re in Italy again this week.”

  I kept my gaze locked on the horizon. In the few months I’d been walking Olin home from school, I hadn’t once met her parents.

  She hadn’t been lying about living alone.

  “Just leave it, Olin.”

  We didn’t speak again until I opened the small iron gate and marched up the path to her front door. Her home would’ve been the postcard for any perfect family if it hadn’t been as tainted as my hovel on the other side of town. Mine gave no illusions about being destitute in both love and kindness, but Olin’s lied with its silver sashes and white render.

  It said a daughter lived here with parents who made her healthy dinners and helped her with her homework. It convinced its neighbours that the rooms were full of laughter not loneliness.

  My heart hardened, hating her parents more each day as Olin danced to my side and slipped her key into the lock. Slipping her bag off my shoulder, I held it out to her. “See you at school tomorrow.”

  She turned in the foyer, ignoring the side table with its fake orchids and the plush cream carpet on the staircase leading to bedrooms above. She only had eyes for me as she took her bag, threw it against the coat rack, then grabbed my wrist and yanked me inside.

  She knew the rules.

  I walked her home.

  I left her the moment she was safe.

  I hadn’t stepped foot into her house.

  I didn’t belong there.

  “Olin, stop.”

  “Come in, Gil. It’s not going to kill you.” Fighting against my reluctance, she leaned into her invitation, dragging me forcibly into the living room complete with sectional couches, a large flat screen, and white sparkly kitchen.

  It couldn’t be more different to the place I lived in if it tried.

  My skin crawled to leave. To hide all the bad pieces of me that Olin didn’t know about. I wanted her to continue not knowing, despite wanting to tell her everything.

  “I’m hungry.” She jerked me toward the kitchen, grabbed my dirty backpack and tossed it onto a barstool, then pressed my shoulders for me to sit in a matching one. “You’re going to sit there and entertain me while I cook us something. Okay?”

  My jaw worked as I fought against her push, eyeing up the front door. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  “You should. You are.” Her gaze softened. “Please, Gil. Stay...for me?”

  I groaned, slouching on the stool. “That’s warfare.”

  “War? You want a war between us?” Her fingers latched onto my shoulders.

  “No. I said asking me to stay that way. It’s not fair.”

  Playfulness entered her voice as she fluttered dark eyelashes. “Oh, have I finally found a weakness? If I say please, does that mean I get to command you for a change?” She laughed, her hands sliding from my shoulders to cup my cheeks.

  “I don’t command you.” I gulped as the heat of her fingers made my heart pound.

  “Oh, yes, you do.” She leaned in and brushed her nose with mine. “But I’m not complaining.”

  Everything froze.

  Our lips were so close.

  Our hearts so fast.

  All I wanted to do was drag her onto my lap and kiss her. I’d wanted so fucking long to kiss her.

  And that was why I didn’t trust myself in her house.

  Standing quickly, I shoved her back.

  Hurt flashed in her gaze, but she recovered quickly. “I’m making pancakes, and you’re not going anywhere.” Her voice was confident, but it lacked bravery to force me to obey. I could walk out the door, and she would forgive me tomorrow.

  But the thing was...I wouldn’t forgive me because how could I ever walk out on this girl? How could I ever tell her just how much I liked her, wanted her, craved her?

  Sighing, I raked a hand over my face and begged my body to stop driving me crazy. Olin wasn’t just someone I wanted to sleep with. She was the future I would do anything to claim.

  And that meant I couldn’t have her until I knew I had her heart.

  Which was a terribly selfish thing to do because until I knew she was in love with me she would know nothing about me. Because once she knew...she wouldn’t want a future with me.

  Who would?

  I had no money, no security. I didn’t even have absentee parents. I had abuse and drug use and the mixed bloodlines of whores and thieves.

  Olin had to love me for me...only then could I be free.

  I sat back down.

  As my thoughts raced, Olin danced around the kitchen. I would never grow tired of watching her move. Even when she reached for a pen in class or skirted around students in the hall, she danced.

  She couldn’t stop it.

  Dance was in every droplet of her blood. Every limb elegant, every motion flawless.

  I’d sneaked into the ballet recital a few weeks ago to watch her perform. She didn’t know I’d been there, and I couldn’t tear my eyes off her. I’d always found Olin beautiful, inside and out, but seeing her on that stage? Witnessing how a girl could become light as a feather and perfect as swirling snowflakes, I lost the final barricades around my heart.

  I was in love with her because she was pure grace.

  She had a way of hypnotising me, calming my dismal thoughts, and anchoring me firmly in the moment. She was so fucking good for me. A medicine I needed to take for the rest of my life. She had no idea the power she held over me just by being her.

  I feared the day when she learned how deep I’d fallen.

  Would she fall with me...or would she pirouette into a future I wasn’t permitted to join?

  Companionable silence fell as she pulled ingredients from the pantry. Her feet glided, her head swayed to an unheard beat, her wrists and fingers twitched and arched like delicate swans.

  My heart pounded with affection, lust, and a terrifying amount of awe as she cracked eggs, beat batter, and spooned indulgent sized pancakes into a sizzling pan.

  She put on a performance just for me.

  The second the sweet scents of dessert met my nose, my mouth watered profusely.

  It was embarrassing how my body reacted around food.

  I was used to the gnawing emptiness in my belly, followed by the over fullness of stuffing my face once a day.

  I’d eaten a few hours ago. I was used to not eating again until tomorrow, but what Olin created was fluffy maple syrup magic, and I swallowed thickly as she placed a plate with two round discs covered in icing sugar and dripping in syrup before me.

  Her eyes lingered on me as she nudged a knife and fork in my direction.

  I did my best not to snatch them like a rabid animal.

  All I wanted to do was devour the food she’d cooked for me. The first meal anyone had ever cooked for me. But I forced myself to keep my hands locked on my lap, smile stiffly, and ignore the plate. I did my best to be like the other boys, nonchalant and lazy, as if being fed by the girl I wanted more than anyone wasn’t a big deal.

  It’s a big fucking deal.

  “You’re like a leaf.” I looked up, cursing the long hair catching on my eyelashes. “When you move, you look like a leaf caught in a breeze.”

  She sucked in a gasp.

  Our eyes snagged and held. Something endlessly painful sucker-punched me in the chest. An emotion that bypassed teenage flirting and went straight into forever claiming.

  I scrambled to delete the sudden awkwardness. “I just meant, watching you cook was the highlight of my day. You’re so pretty.”

  She beamed; the pretty blush that always appeared around me turned her cheeks rosy. “You like watching me?”

  I laughed darkly. “You know I do.”

  I’d told her that. Plus, she’d caught me gawking at her more than once. My fascination with her was obvious.

  Her eyelashes fluttered. “Why do you like watching me?”

  It was my turn to blush. “Eh, no reason.”

  “No reason?” She pouted adorably. �
�Come on, there must be a reason.” Her lips turned up as her eyes sparkled. “How about I go first?”

  My muscles seized. “Y-you watch me?”

  Shit, what had she seen? How bad had I been?

  She bit her bottom lip, nodding. “All the time. I can’t stop looking at you.”

  Fear crawled down my spine. “If you’ve watched me, why are you still here? Why haven’t you run away screaming yet?”

  Her face fell. “You act as if I won’t want to be your friend the more I get to know you.”

  “You won’t.”

  She sighed softly. “You’re wrong, you know. That can’t ever happen.”

  I looked at my plate, unable to hold her stare. I daren’t indulge in the quick kick of hope in my heart. Could she feel a tenth of what I did? Could I keep her, regardless of who I was?

  More batter sizzled in the pan as Olin murmured, “You can’t scare me away, you know. I see more than you think. I like watching you, Gilbert Clark, because everything you do is assessed, deliberated, and completed with utmost dedication. You don’t waste energy on things that aren’t important. You’re precise and concentrate harder than anyone I know. And if I’m honest, you’re kind of scary with how focused you are when you put your mind to it.”

  “I scare you?” My heart no longer nursed hope but hurt.

  “Not anymore. Not now I know you.” She looked at me pointedly. “The more I get to know you, the more I like you, so you might as well get used to having me around.”

  “I love having you around.” I froze.

  Shit.

  She smiled. “I’m glad.”

  Our eyes locked again, and goosebumps shot beneath my clothes. I wanted to go to her. To ask if she liked me enough to kiss me. But I lived with whores. Kisses weren’t given willingly most of the time. And I would never, ever take something from Olin that she didn’t want me to have.

  Olin looked away first, her voice wobbling a little. “Anyway, tuck in.” She flipped the pancake, expertly landing it in the centre of the pan. A skill that said she’d cooked far more than other kids, from necessity not because of hobbies. “Eat while it’s hot.”