The Finished Masterpiece (Master of Trickery Book 3)

by Pepper Winters

  To devour the offered energy because there must be a reason he wanted me to eat. Maybe he wouldn’t be the one to kill me. Maybe he wanted me to have energy to fight.

  I stilled. My body relaxed. I opened my mouth politely and took a dainty bite.

  Gil tensed, his eyes never unlocking from mine as I ate every inch. I swallowed it down, then waited for him to wipe my cheeks and chin free from the mess.

  He did with a shaky hand, his forehead furrowed and eyes so dark they looked like crushed up jade. “I’m sorry.”

  “You keep saying that, but if you were sorry, you’d let me go.”

  “Thank you for eating.” He placed the empty plate aside and picked up the glass. “Please drink.”

  I held my head away, my gaze searching his. “Tell me why.”

  He struggled to reply. The truth stayed shuttered behind his anguish, but finally, he looked at my lap and whispered, “You need to eat so you have something in your system. If you’re left out there for a while...the better hydrated and fed you are...the longer you’ll survive.”

  “That wasn’t what I was asking.” I’d wanted to know why.

  Why he’d chosen the easy way out. Yes, his daughter was captive, and he’d been dealing with this alone, but surely, having me help him rather than just sacrificing me was a better option?

  When he didn’t answer, I sighed heavily. “You think a sandwich will keep me alive? That it will prevent me from becoming yet another dead girl in a newspaper?”

  His eyes squeezed shut; a single tear rolled down his ashen face. Opening them again, he held the glass to my lips. “Please.”

  My heart kicked at his brokenness, even now wishing to heal him.

  I locked any emotion away and opened my mouth, allowing him to pour cool water down my throat.

  I drank every drop.

  I will survive this.

  I will.

  When the glass was empty, he lowered it slowly, studying the fracturing light as a droplet danced inside. That creative spark struck a match in his gaze, turning tortured into artist. He drowned in the colour spectrum, begging the flickering rainbow to fix everything.

  I was envious of him. Envious that he could still practice his talent. Jealous he had a religion that could help him, even while discussing the murder of his childhood sweetheart.

  His gaze met mine, and in the green depths, he showed me how endless he truly was. How long he’d fought this battle. How I was just collateral damage in a war I could never comprehend.

  And I pitied him.

  Pitied the struggle that had torn away his soul. Pitied the hardships he’d had to face on his own.

  But I couldn’t forgive him.

  I couldn’t absolve him for putting a price on my life and finding it less valuable than another’s. Even if it was his daughter. Even if she was...family.

  “Justin knows I’m here.” I studied him with defiance. “He’ll visit soon, I’m sure.”

  “He won’t.” Gil stood and carried the empty dishes to his side table where an airgun, brushes, vials, and everything else he needed for his work waited, prepped and mixed.

  I sucked in a breath, my heart once again winging. “Why won’t he?”

  “Because I told him not to.”

  “He knows something is going on with you.”

  Gil laughed, but nothing was jovial about it, merely black and miserable. “He should. I’ve been hiding this nightmare for a while.”

  “What’s a while?”

  He kept his back to me, unlocking the wheels on the trolley and rolling the supply table toward me. “Over a year.”

  “A year?” I squirmed on the stage, my wrists and ankles sore from the tightness of his binds. “Why didn’t you go to the police? Tell them—”

  “Tell them that I’m a madman’s puppet? That I’ve tried to keep so many women from death and only succeeded if my bank account was flush?”

  I stiffened. “You could have. They might have believed you.”

  His eyes cast back to the past, to a time I wasn’t there. “They wouldn’t. It’s always my word against someone else’s.”

  That statement rippled with such stark truth, I wished I could dissect it and pull free every fact, but I kept my questioning focused, determined to solve this riddle. “How many women did your money save?” I tested the ropes again, a futile attempt, but instinct demanded I keep checking.

  “Not enough.” He shuddered visibly, his face turning grey as a corpse. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Don’t.” My voice hissed like a python. “Don’t ever say that to me again. Don’t you think I deserve to know?” I held up my bound wrists. “You’ve turned me into a sacrifice, Gilbert Clark. The least you can do is—”

  “You’re right.” His back stiffened as he pulled open a drawer and selected a pair of sharp scissors. “Ask me anything. I’ll answer as honestly as I can.” Coming toward me, he eyed my skirt and blouse. “I’m sorry to ruin yet another outfit of yours.”

  I scuttled backward, doing my best to avoid the silver flashes of his weapon. I asked again, “Ho-How many did you manage to save?”

  His eyes met mine. This time he didn’t deflect. “Seven. Seven girls before my finances ran dry.”

  “And he kept asking for more?”

  He nodded as another well of rage and helplessness glossed his gaze. “I sold what I could. I worked every job possible. I gave him every penny. But it still wasn’t enough.”

  “Enough for what?”

  “To keep her safe.”

  “To keep Olive safe,” I whispered his daughter’s name.

  “Yes.” His fingers grabbed my ankle, pulling me back to the edge of the podium. With trembling hands, he cut my skirt along my thigh, right to the pretty faux croc-skin belt. With a snip, he cut that too, switching my skirt to a ruined piece of material now draped uselessly on his stage.

  My garter belt decorated my black lace knickers; my stockings unable to shield me from the cold air.

  He sniffed as if he couldn’t hold back his emotion. Couldn’t believe he did this to me. “Fuck, I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Then stop.” I did my best to stay strong.

  “I can’t.”

  I flinched as he slowly cut my blouse, peeling it away from my skin. It fluttered lifelessly to join my skirt, revealing my bra.

  “I need you to know.” Gil cupped my chin with snowy fingertips. “I need you to understand.” Tears strangled his voice. “Without Olive, I don’t know what I would’ve become. Sh-She saved my life.” His thumb stroked my cheekbone. “After I lost you, I barely survived. I was on a slippery slope of grief and heartache, but thanks to Olive...I had someone who needed me. I had someone to fight for—”

  “I needed you!” My pain bled through my control as a sob caught in my throat. “I missed you so much. Why did you leave if you still wanted me? Why didn’t you fight for me, Gil? Why don’t you fight now?”

  His tears flowed freely, glittering on his ghostly cheeks, tracking through his five o’clock shadow. “I had to stay away. Otherwise, she was going to destroy your life.”

  I struggled to breathe. “Who? Who was going to destroy my life?”

  “It doesn’t—”

  “Gil!”

  “Fine. It was Tallup.” His teeth snapped the word in half, thick with disgust and heavy with loathing. “She blackmailed me.” He pressed his forehead to mine, breathing hard. “I was stupid and gullible and way out of my depth. I should’ve told you. Should’ve told the authorities, but I was too afraid.” He let out an agony-drenched laugh. “I was too afraid of losing you. Of being locked up. Of my life becoming a total screw-up. I thought I could protect you and fix what I’d broken. But I failed, and I lost it all anyway.”

  My mind scrambled to untangle the pieces. “Ms Tallup? Jane Tallup? Our teacher?” I frowned. “Why would she want to hurt me?”

  “Because of me.”

  “What? Why?”

  “She went after you to get
to me.” His gaze shot black with hatred and unresolved torment.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It doesn’t ma—”

  “Gil.” I ripped my face from his touch. “I swear I’ll—”

  His lips crashed on mine as if he couldn’t stop himself. As if the whole deranged evening was just a role-play and I’d had every choice to participate. His tongue licked at the seam of my mouth. His groan vibrated in his chest with black-edged sorrow.

  I didn’t kiss him back.

  In that, I had a choice.

  He pulled away, resting his forehead on mine as he breathed hard. “Fuck.” He trembled as if he had hypothermia and only had seconds to live. He kissed me again, quick and hard, his breath catching. “Fuck.”

  Falling away from me, he punched the stage.

  He punched it so hard, the vibration ricocheted beneath me and made him groan with agony. He punched it again, punishing his knuckles, ruining his painting hand all because he couldn’t stand the prison we were locked in.

  Part of me wanted to soothe him. To tell him it was okay. That I understood his pain.

  But I didn’t understand.

  This was my life he was using to pay a debt.

  This wasn’t his choice to make.

  “What did Tallup do to you, Gil?” My question was achingly soft after such violence.

  His shoulders hunched, grief crippling him. His eyes were wet as they met mine. “She wanted me.” He shrugged helplessly. “So...she took me.”

  “What does that—”

  No.

  I wanted to be sick.

  A rush of heat and nausea raced up my throat.

  My cheeks burned. My body throbbed with injustice. “You slept with her?”

  He swiped at the liquid on his face and looked away.

  He didn’t answer as he reached for my bra and snipped it with the scissors. Cutting the straps, he let it fall to the graveyard of my clothing before slicing up my stockings and leaving me in just my knickers. A single piece of protection against so many things I didn’t know.

  “You slept with her.” Tears I didn’t want to cry spilled over my cheeks. “Why would you do that? Why didn’t you say something? I was waiting for you. I was saving myself for you. I was a virgin, Gil. I wanted you to have that. No one else. You were supposed to be my first...and my only.”

  His voice was dangerously low. “You think I didn’t want that too?”

  “I don’t know what to think.” My heart bruised with agony. “Did she proposition you? Why didn’t you tell the principal? He would’ve fired her immediately for even looking at you wrong.”

  His jaw gritted. “Like I said...I was trapped.”

  “Trapped because you secretly wanted her?”

  His head snapped up. “What?” His eyes narrowed. “Why the fuck would you ask something like that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Anger flickered through me. “You’re a guy. She was small. You could’ve fought her off. I mean...if you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t have been able to get hard—”

  “Fucking hell.” He swooped up, dragging hands through his hair. “I know you hate me. I know you’re currently tied up and cursing the very air I breathe, but do you truly think I wanted her? Wanted her over you? Do you honestly think I went to her willingly?”

  My chest rose and fell with quickened breaths. “You broke up with me in front of her. How am I supposed to know if you did that because you two were playing some twisted game—”

  He bent and grabbed my face, his fingers digging into my flesh. “I deserve your doubt. I deserve you thinking the worst of me...after all, look at what I’m fucking doing. But...O, you couldn’t have hurt me more if you’d tried.”

  My chin arched in his hold. “Well, good. I’m glad you’re hurt. Maybe now you’ll understand how I feel.” Yet more cursed tears welled. “I trusted you, Gil. I gave you everything I had, and instead of telling me how I could help you, you went behind my back and decided for me. Twice!” I sniffed coldly. “You did it at school. And you’re doing it now. We were family. We made a deal to be there for each other—”

  “I was trying to keep you safe!”

  “Safe by sleeping with her?”

  “Yes!”

  “All because she threatened my future.”

  “Yes, okay?! I was an idiot. I—”

  “You’re a walking disaster for blackmail.” I wanted to laugh at the absurdity, to cry at the tragedy. “I could’ve handled my own future, you know! My grades were good. She couldn’t have stopped me.”

  “You’re right.” He let me go, pacing in front of me. “I’m fucking pathetic. I try to do the right thing, but I always fail. She told me she’d destroy your hopes of university and dance. She said I could never talk to you again. That I had to give her my virginity and—”

  “You—” I choked. “You were a virgin?”

  His boots stuck to the floor as his body sagged with crippling confession. “My virginity was yours. I was waiting to make sure you were in love with me.” He looked away, unable to hold my stare. “Because once I took you, there was no going back. I was going to marry you and move you away from that shitty place. I had it all planned—”

  “Wait.” Fury tangled with my sadness, making me tremble in my ropes. “You’re telling me...that all this time...you saw a future together? You were going to marry me...?” A wash of tiredness crashed over me, scrambling my thoughts. I struggled to pull them back into comprehension. “You let her ruin us, all because you were too afraid to stand up to her!”

  “It was my word against hers.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “There was no way I could’ve won.”

  “The truth would have won.” I blinked back another tug of tiredness.

  “The truth was I was the son of an alcoholic pimp who beat me. My upbringing wasn’t with siblings but with whores. Tallup was a Christian teacher who lived with her mother and did charity work. Do you honestly think I stood a chance? That her word against mine wouldn’t win? She could do whatever she fucking liked, and there was nothing I could do.”

  I swallowed hard. “And what exactly...did she do to you?”

  Shutters came down over his eyes. His hands balled as pure rage dripped over him. “I already told you.”

  I shook my head from yet another lick of lethargy. “You slept with her.”

  His teeth bared. “Yes.”

  “How exactly? If you didn’t want it, how—”

  “She tricked me into taking Viagra.”

  “Oh...”

  Time froze.

  Everything stopped.

  And I saw this from an outsider’s point of view. I heard my judgement. I saw my dread. And I despised myself.

  This isn’t me.

  I wasn’t a woman bound and trapped by a man willing to kill me. I was just a girl, judging a boy for sexual molestation. I did what chauvinistic society did to girls who were raped. I blamed him. I believed it must’ve been his fault.

  But it wasn’t his fault.

  And it wasn’t fair to use my hurt against him.

  The truth stabbed me right in the chest. “You didn’t sleep with her, Gil. She raped you.”

  God.

  She raped him and cut him off from everyone.

  She—

  I want to kill her.

  Rip out her heart and burn it on a pyre.

  My fingers turned numb along with my tongue, shutting down piece by piece. “She abused you. God, Gil, she took everything from you—”

  He held up a hand, his entire frame shaking. “Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t you fucking dare feel sorry for me. Do not be that good. Do not be that fucking kind!”

  “But you were just a child. And she was our teach—”

  “Stop it. I want you to hate me. You need to hate me.” He howled at the ceiling. “I need you to resent me with everything you have. Be disgusted with me. Curse me. Fuck, please.” He fell to his knees. “I can’t do this if you forgive all my
sins. I can’t do this if you still love me...no matter what I fucking do to you.”

  Another lash of heaviness slithered through my brain, scattering my thoughts before realigning. I blinked back the increasing lethargy. “You dealt with that...on your own.” I cried tears for the boy I’d lost. “You didn’t tell me. You didn’t trust me to help you. You were all alone.”

  He rocked with his hands clasped in prayer, bowing to me, placing me in position of a goddess. A goddess of death and destruction. An offering to a bigger, more malignant power. “I thought I could keep you safe.”

  “Instead, you cut me out.” My voice was silk-wrapped daggers. “You ruined both of us.” I longed to touch him, to hug him. If I touched him now, I might be able to stop him from doing this. I finally knew what’d twisted him up so badly. “It’s okay. It’s over now.”

  My roped hands reached for his face to grant him absolution. To let him know, I might hate his actions tonight, but I didn’t hate him—no matter how much trust he’d shattered. “Gil...it’s over. Untie me. It’s not just your word against hers. I’ll stand beside you. We’ll ask for help together. We’ll save Olive some other way.”

  “Olin.” His tears fell openly now. “Goddammit, I—”

  My fingers grazed his five o’clock shadow. He reared backward, terror filling his gaze. “Don’t. I’ll break if you touch me. I’m breaking already.”

  “Let me go.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You’re not alone anymore.” Another crush of exhaustion pressed into me, forcing me into haziness. My eyes unfocused on the rope around my wrists. My mind flickered on and off. I licked my lips, clawing my way back to lucidity. “I forgive you for this, Gilbert Clark. I forgive you for everything. Just let me go and...” Reality checked out for a second, my brain tiptoeing into sleep. I opened my eyes with a jerk, raising my heavy head. “What...what’s going on? Why am I so tired?”

  He ignored me.

  “Did you...drug me?” I licked my lips, the numbness spreading.

  “I can’t do this anymore.” Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed something from his trestle. He placed a bottle of paint beside me while holding his palm open by my face. I couldn’t make sense of the small black dot in the centre. “I can’t keep making you believe the worst.”