The Living Canvas (Master of Trickery, #2)

by Pepper Winters

  I wanted to delete the video. To put aside those heart pangs for a girl who might be in love with my best friend by now.

  But I left it.

  I left it as yet another reminder not to ruin her happiness, and used the many videos and photos saved in my cloud to add new content. Previous commissions. Accolades from advertisement companies. Images of magazines and billboards and the many places where my creations had ended up.

  I even uploaded a picture of Olive painting a kid from her school while dressed in her hockey uniform. The poor kid had ended up looking like some squashed marshmallow but both she and Olive had had a great time.

  It showed in their smiles and splashed paint.

  An image of powerful joy.

  Once I’d scheduled and arranged a few posts that hopefully would get exposure, I updated my business description.

  Experienced Body Painter willing to work for free.

  Ex-convict, single-father, determined.

  You supply the paint, canvas, and location.

  I’ll do the rest.

  I was willing to start from the ground up again.

  I’d brush the cobwebs off my fingers, raise my business from the ashes, and be worthy of all the wonderful people in my life.

  And this time, there would be no one to blackmail or bleed me dry.

  No uncle to steal my daughter.

  No teacher to send me to jail for rape.

  No secrets to make me lose my soul-mate.

  People knew the truth.

  It was time I accepted that I no longer had to look over my shoulder.

  It was time to live.

  * * * * *

  That’d been four weeks ago.

  I’d called Olive once a week—like I used to from jail—assuring her I was fine and not to come and see me. That I couldn’t quite shake the flu and didn’t want her to catch it. A few fake coughs and sneezes, and she agreed to be patient.

  I hated lying.

  I worried about keeping silent.

  I was desperate to see her.

  I barely slept with the need to ensure she was safe—to assure myself she was free and no longer prisoner like I had been.

  But unlike the panic that’d filled me when searching for her, I could temper my desperation with the knowledge she was happy with Justin and O. She had everything she could ever want. She was loved and protected.

  And if I stood any chance of providing for her half as well as Justin and O did...then I needed time to make myself a better man.

  To ensure I could be the father she deserved.

  And besides...I had a plan.

  Four weeks had already given me enough time to paint and get the word out that I was back.

  Thanks to the prison selling some of my work, my reputation had been patched up with the underdog tale of a guy incarcerated for putting a psychopath down.

  People no longer hated me, and it wasn’t the battle I’d feared to get noticed.

  I did three free commissions.

  One for a woman on her thirtieth birthday who wanted to wear her ‘birthday suit’ with paint embellishments.

  Two for a small pet shop who helped rehome shelter animals and wanted two women painted as one stray looking for a home.

  And three for an up-and-coming band with no cash who wanted their drummer to be covered in their logo for their banner and next week’s show.

  For each one, I uploaded the time-lapse video of creation, and each one got more and more traction online.

  By the fourth one—a law firm who wanted a woman painted as a judge—I deleted the promise of free work and accepted my first paid gig in almost two years.

  I slashed my usual rate for the right to share.

  The second gig, I increased it.

  And by the fifth, I was confident in my skills again.

  Confident enough to charge higher prices, invest my new funds into fresh brushes, bottles, and sponges, and dared hope that I could step back into my role as Master of Trickery.

  There’d been no hate directly into my inbox.

  No beatings or awkward moments when I went to paint.

  It was as if everyone had moved on. As if they no longer cared about something that happened so long ago, even if it was scandal and murder.

  I didn’t question the luck I had.

  I scooped it up as fast as I could, focusing on my goal of a home for Olive and money to pay Justin for caring for my daughter.

  I worked every hour I could.

  Day and night.

  I didn’t rest, even when I had enough for a down payment on a rental only a block away from Justin’s place. My parole officer helped vouch for me and acted as referee on my rental request. Luckily, the landlord took a chance and I signed the lease with a chest-full of relief.

  The place came fully furnished, and the first night I slept there and not the halfway house provided for ex-prisoners, I knew I could do this.

  I was done taking the scraps life threw at me.

  I would make a success of myself and not feel guilty or undeserving.

  There was also another reason for staying busy.

  Each time my thoughts strayed to O, my heart would buck and writhe. I’d lost her. I’d let her go. And that was the biggest punishment of all.

  Not jail time.

  Not fighting from the ground up.

  Just the knowledge that I’d grown the fuck up finally, I’d let down my guards, and it didn’t matter.

  Because the chance of a happily ever after was too late.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  ______________________________

  Gil

  SCHOOL LET OUT in a gush of same-dressed students.

  Nerves raced down my spine. Sweat broke out on my palms.

  I waited until Olive spilled out with her satchel bashing against her side and her smile wide and confident.

  She’d grown a lot in the past year.

  She was no longer the tiny girl with hurricane love but a timid heart. She was closing in on ten years old and resembled the young woman she’d become.

  Wiping sweaty palms on my jeans, I checked that my grey t-shirt was presentable and my new boots—that already held specks of paint—were tied, then crossed the road to surprise my daughter.

  “Olive Oyl.”

  She slammed to a stop. Her bag swinging and mouth falling open. “Dad...dad?” Then she was running, bolting into my arms and leaping into me.

  I swept her from the pavement and hugged her close. Her hair still smelled of strawberries. Her body still felt like her. She’d changed but was also so familiar.

  “How? How are you here?” She squirmed in my embrace. “I thought you were sick! And...in jail.”

  I put her down, unable to stop grinning. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Did you break out?” Her voice lowered to a harsh whisper. “Are they gonna come arrest you for escaping?”

  I laughed hard. “No. I didn’t break out. I was released.”

  Her forehead furrowed. “But...it’s not time yet. O and I have a calendar at home that shows when you’ll be free, and it’s not for ages.”

  I fought the urge to touch her ponytail. To cup her cheek. “I got lucky.”

  “So...you mean, you’re out for real? Like forever?” Hope exploded in her pretty grey gaze.

  I nodded.

  She squealed and launched herself back into my arms.

  Chuckling, I held her while she nuzzled into my neck, her legs kicking my knees in excitement. “This is amazing! This is so good. Yay!” Pulling away, seriousness bled through her joy. “So...are you moving in with Justin and O and me? We’ll need to get a bigger place. There isn’t another bedroom.”

  O had told me she’d moved in with Justin a while ago.

  But I hadn’t pried for more.

  I battled the awful question. The question I couldn’t run away from.

  Were O and Justin sharing a bedroom?

  Were they a true family, raising my daughter
as their own?

  I swallowed it back, shaking my head and that nasty thought away.

  So what if they were?

  I had to be happy for their happiness.

  I would not ruin it just because I was out early and suddenly desperate to see if I could salvage the wreckage of O and I.

  “I have my own place. Not far from Justin’s.”

  She looked around; searching for the guards she’d grown used to tolerating whenever she came to visit me. “So...does that mean you don’t want to live with us?” Her forehead wrinkled. “You don’t want to live with me?”

  I ducked to one knee, looking into her pretty eyes. “Of course I want to live with you. I was hoping...well, I hoped you’d come live with me in my new place. I got it for us.” I brushed a lock of dark hair from her cheek, then captured her hand. “But I can see how that’s rude of me to expect you to change your life so much. So...if you don’t want to live with me, that’s totally okay too.”

  My heart hurt.

  I didn’t like the stares of other parents or the high-pitched chatter of other kids.

  I cursed myself for being so forward when I should’ve known Olive would grow attached to Justin and O. Why did I expect her to leap back into my arms when she had a great thing going with them?

  She licked her lips. “It’s not that. It’s just...um...” She kicked a pebble with her patent black school shoe. “I just have to ask them if that’s okay.”

  “Completely understand.” I stood, glancing around at the mayhem of parents picking up children. I probably looked totally suspicious. Stepping back a little, I stared down a young woman who looked at me as if I was some paedophile.

  Olive took my hand, tugging me gently. “I know. We can ask them right now!”

  “Wait...what?” My eyes fell to hers, my body yanked into movement thanks to her tenacity.

  Pulling me across the street, she grinned. “They’re here. They pick me up.”

  “They do?”

  “Yep.” She skipped beside me. “Sometimes it’s just O and sometimes Justin. But lately, they’ve both come to get me.”

  Lately.

  I swallowed hard.

  Was that a sign of true love finding separation excruciating?

  She pointed up ahead. “That’s O’s car.”

  My legs suddenly turned into pillars of concrete. I stopped without thinking; fear a tangible thing in my blood.

  O lounged against her car, waiting for my daughter. Her gorgeous face was framed by long dark blonde hair. Her smile was carefree and genuine.

  And beside her was Justin.

  My chest crumbled as he shoved her, mid-laugh, as if she’d ribbed him and he’d retaliated. Their body language was loose and happy, smiles full of affection.

  I’d given Justin permission to chase her if she’d wanted to be chased.

  I wouldn’t stand in their way if they got married or wanted nothing to do with me now I was free, but I couldn’t deny that my heart fell into a blender and sliced to pieces. A salsa of pain. A rain of ruin.

  “Come on.” Olive tugged my hand, yanking me toward the two people who meant so much to me in different ways. Doing my best to keep my face neutral and ordering my arms not to reach out and snatch O, I smiled the best I could as Justin’s gaze met mine.

  He froze.

  O looked to where his eyes had locked.

  She froze too.

  For a second, guilt flashed over her face before a huge grin split her lips and she charged toward me. “Gil!”

  I braced myself for her hug, unable to fight the urge to bury my face in the crook of her neck. She felt so warm and soft and right.

  She felt like home.

  Justin came over, pulling me into an embrace after O let me go. “Mate, how the hell are you here? Why didn’t you tell us you were out?” He slapped me on the shoulder. “Did you just get released? We could’ve picked you up.”

  I hugged him back, gratefulness a warm Band-Aid over my bleeding heart. “Don’t get mad but I got out a few weeks ago.”

  Olive’s face scrunched up, dragging my eyes down to her level. “You didn’t come see us straight away?”

  Us.

  Not me.

  Us.

  Like it or not, she’d made a family with O and Justin. Whatever our joint future held, I would share Olive with them. I wouldn’t take her away. Not after nineteen months of them being together.

  I kept my voice neutral of pain. “I wanted to have a home before I came to you, little spinach. I can still call you that, right?”

  She frowned. “Yeah, but I don’t know why you didn’t come find us sooner. You wasted all that time when we could’ve been together.”

  “I didn’t waste it. I used it to get my painting back on track and fix what I’d broken.”

  “Huh.” She crossed her arms, still annoyed. “I still think you should’ve told us.”

  Her firecracker temper made me chuckle, but I swallowed it back, staying serious. “I agree. It was wrong. Can you forgive me?”

  Her lips twitched. “I suppose so.”

  “Phew.” My eyes trailed to O as understanding glowed on her face.

  “You’ve been painting,” she said softly. “I haven’t been online lately...I should’ve checked your page.”

  “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “It is. A great surprise.” She smiled. “So...you’re working?”

  I nodded. “A few commissions.”

  O’s hazel eyes warmed with a thousand different things. “That’s wonderful.” She understood why I needed to repair myself on my own terms. She got why it was important that I came to them whole and not ask for more hand-outs.

  “That’s great, Clark.” Justin patted me on the back. “Guess you’ll be slammed with work again. No rest for the wicked.”

  “He’s not wicked,” Olive piped up. “He might’ve been sent to prison, but he isn’t wicked.” She stepped closer, and I wound my arm around her delicate shoulders.

  “Thanks for having my back.”

  “Anytime.” She winked, filling my chest with love.

  O watched us, the same kindness and gentleness that’d always drawn me to her spilling from her soul. “Olive’s missed you. We all have.”

  I couldn’t look away from her. “I’ve missed you.” Clearing my throat, I added, “All of you. I missed everyone.”

  O tucked flyaway hair behind her ear. “Do you...do you need somewhere to sleep? You’re welcome to come home with us.”

  Two words that left literary power and became physical as knives.

  Us and home.

  So they were together, and they shared a home.

  “Yeah, mate.” Justin shoved his hands into his suit pockets. “You’re welcome anytime. You know that. The couch is super comfy. I can vouch for it.”

  Justin only had a two-bedroom place.

  Olive had one.

  O most likely had the other.

  And if Justin wasn’t couch surfing anymore...that meant he and O shared a room.

  And a bed.

  Fuck.

  I hadn’t wanted to jump to conclusions, but it became impossible not to.

  “That’s very kind of you, guys, but...” I let Olive go, my feet backing up and putting distance between us. “I have my own place.”

  Stop being an ungrateful prick.

  This was the price I’d been willing to pay.

  So pay it.

  “Besides, I’ve already been far too much of an imposition.”

  “You’ve never be an imposition, Gil.” O’s eyes burned. “You know that.”

  I didn’t know what to say or how to deal with the wave of emotion emitting from her. My skin prickled, my heart begged, life felt empty knowing I’d lost her.

  But it wasn’t empty.

  It was full because I’d paid my sins, my conscience was clear, and for the first time, I had everything to look forward to.

  Olive was safe.

  I was free
to protect her the way she deserved.

  Free to spoil her, raise her, and love her until she became an adult in her own right.

  That was what I focused on.

  That was what I was grateful for.

  I forced another grin. “I better let you guys go—”

  “But you just got here.” Olive pouted. “I want longer than the stupid fifteen minutes in prison.”

  “Yeah, Clark. You can’t go yet.” Justin smoothed his suit. “Tell you what, we need to celebrate! Let’s go out. Have a drink. Catch up. All of us.”

  Olive bounced on the spot. “Yay! Let’s go.”

  O sucked in a breath.

  My every cell was attuned to her. She flinched as if going out to eat with me wasn’t tolerable. “I don’t know. You probably have a million and one things to do—”

  “Nope. Done for the day,” Justin interrupted. “Let’s go to dinner.”

  “Dinner is hours away, silly.” Olive wrinkled her nose. “I’ve only just finished school.”

  Justin held out his hand, letting Olive slap it as if he deserved being told off. “Okay, smartypants, call it a late lunch or pre-dinner. How about a lunner? Does that work? You know...like breakfast and lunch are combined to make brunch? Lunner.”

  He shrugged as O groaned, rolling her eyes. “What? It’s a legitimate question.”

  “You’re so weird.” Olive giggled.

  “Takes one to know one.”

  O laughed. “Both of you are weird.”

  “You’re weirder,” Justin shot back.

  “I have to be to put up with you two.” O’s gaze sparkled with contentment.

  The trio of togetherness while I watched in envy.

  The ease between them.

  The connection that’d grown while I’d been locked away.

  I stood quietly, not sure how to untangle myself from this family. Not sure how to claim back my daughter when she’d found something so special. And most of all, unsure how I could cope after losing both girls of my heart to a guy who deserved to be loved as much as he was.

  Justin cleared his throat, noticing my stiffness. He tapped the top of the bronze sedan beside him. “Everyone pile in. Let’s move this party to somewhere cooler than a pavement.”

  O inched toward me, hesitating before threading her arm through mine.

  The second she touched me, my body reacted.