Gil didn’t move.
For the longest second, he stared at me, then Olive and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe the trap he’d been caught in.
He hated himself.
His self-loathing permeated the air until he choked on it.
I waited for him to walk away.
To leave both of us to our fate.
But something triggered in him. Some base instinct that didn’t bow to rules or threats, not anymore. He couldn’t walk away. I knew that in my bones.
I didn’t know how long it’d been since he’d seen Olive.
I didn’t know anything about his life anymore.
But the building outrage on his face spoke of a man who’d reached his limit. A man who would no longer kneel to another—not when those he loved were in danger and within grabbing distance—ready to be saved if he could only kill the monster in the middle.
He stalked toward Jeffrey with his gaze locked on his daughter. “Olive, come here.”
Olive squirmed and fought, kicking and scratching at Jeffrey as he struggled to hold her.
I played my part in the distraction, kicking my tied legs and wriggling on the slippery bracken.
Jeffrey witnessed his carefully choreographed meeting dissolve into anarchy.
Gil leaped forward.
One hand reached for Olive, and the other punched Jeffrey in the jaw.
The three of them tumbled in a pile of body parts while Gil tried to murder his enemy with nothing more than fists and fury.
I tried to scream. To activate a voice that stayed dormant with drugs.
But then a gunshot rang out.
A swarm of crows exploded from the treetops. Pigeons and sparrows, finches and thrushes all soaring for the sky thanks to violence.
I squirmed and gasped, trying to sit up to see. To know if the bullet had missed or...
Tears pricked as Gil fell backward, his hands high above his head in surrender, his eyes frantic as he searched Olive for injury. “You okay?” His breath caught and voice scratched with gravel. “Please tell me you’re not hurt.”
Thank God, he wasn’t shot.
Fierce hope filled me that the rogue bullet had lodged inside Jeffrey.
Olive cried, crystal tears glittering on pretty cheeks. “I’m all right.” She stayed sitting in the dirt, shoulders rolled and grief overtaking, knowing that Gil’s attempt at rescue had failed, and she was about to pay the consequences.
Just like me.
With his gun high, Jeffrey clambered to his feet, brushing off leaf matter and curling his nose at the mud stain on his knee. The flutter of disgruntled birds still flapped around us.
He wasn’t shot.
He wasn’t defeated.
“That was stupid, Gilbert. Very, very stupid.” He aimed the gun directly at Gil’s heart. “I suggest you start walking before I change my mind.”
Gil shook his head, furious despair painting his features. “I can’t leave them.”
“But you will if you want to live another day.”
Gil looked at me, apology and uselessness blazing bright. He looked at Olive, desolation and failure crippling him.
He came to the same conclusion I did.
He didn’t have a choice.
Fight now.
Die now.
Or walk away and hope to save us later.
Olive cried harder, understanding that the family reunion was about to end. “No! Take me with you. Don’t—” She stood and tried to run to Gil, only to be cornered in Jeffrey’s arms. “Don’t go. Please!”
Gil squeezed his eyes shut, a tear licking down his cheek. “Olive. I love you. Forever and ever.” His gaze opened, locking onto his flesh and blood. A family he’d created not borrowed. A little girl who idolized him. A child who believed he could fix this when he couldn’t. “Please don’t hate me for failing you. I’m not leaving you, okay? I’ll never, ever leave you. I just...this is temporary. We’ll be together again soon. I promise.”
Olive cried harder. “When? When is soon?”
He shuddered. “As soon as I can. I promise we’ll be together. I promise.”
Olive somehow managed to sniff up her sadness and nod bravely. “Okay. I’ll be good. Maybe Uncle Jeffrey will let me go home if I behave better.”
Gil vibrated with hate toward the man holding her captive. He couldn’t stop his boots crunching forward, taking him toward the gun aimed in his direction and his young daughter. “Jeffrey, please...for fuck’s sake, you have O. I’ll continue to paint and deliver on your demands. Just give me Olive. Let me take her home. Accept the trade.”
I winced at the urgency in his voice. The utmost dedication to his child while using me as collateral.
He’d already destroyed all my trust. Now, he destroyed all my hope.
Destroyed any hope that I was as important to him as Olive was. I was only valuable if I could be traded for what he truly wanted.
Once again, I wanted to hate.
I wanted to hate him and her and the man they called uncle.
But...no matter what he’d done to me—no matter the drugs he’d fed me and the bargains he begged for, I didn’t have the strength to hate.
Hate demanded such a lot. It needed energy and emotion and a deep, dark heat that burned. Mostly naked and shivering on the forest floor, I had no energy. I’d used up all my emotion. The only thing I felt was tired.
Tired and resigned and sad.
So, so sad.
I’d lost everything.
I thought I’d lost it the moment I couldn’t dance anymore.
But I’d been naïve.
A tattoo couldn’t fix this.
Scars couldn’t repair this.
This truly was the end.
I closed my eyes, willing the drugs to whisk me away.
But they didn’t. They kept me awake and at their mercy as Gil whispered, “O...I’m so fucking sorry.”
My eyelashes opened, filling my vision with his misery.
“I love you.” His lips turned down as he drank me in. His gaze travelled over my skin painted with his mark, my love left as his sacrifice. For the longest moment, he stared, pouring love and apology into me, and begging me to understand, all while knowing he’d lost me forever.
There was no coming back from this.
No way of repairing what was broken.
With the heaviest of nods and most reluctant acceptance, he blew Olive a kiss, gave me one last look, then turned and walked away.
He tripped as if exhausted. He stumbled as if wounded. He moved like a man who’d forfeited everything.
A cresting, debilitating wave of terror cracked my ribs, one by one. My lungs sipped air rather than inhaled it. Fear vised my skull with pressure. Grief mushroom clouded until it filled me.
I hadn’t had a panic attack since the first day I’d woken and found my body restricted by pins and pain.
I couldn’t afford to have one now.
Steadying my breathing, I kept my eyes locked on Gil as he slowly left us behind.
The crunch of his boots sounded as horrid as cannon fire.
The sniff of his sadness as damning as death.
As the night swallowed him, Jeffrey bent to speak to Olive, his voice just loud enough for my enjoyment too. “Daddy isn’t being a good boy these days.” He stroked her hair even as she squirmed to get away. “He’s not a very good painter anymore.” He tapped her on the nose. “You know what? I think we’ve had enough of boring old Popeye, don’t you?”
Olive gasped, clinging to Jeffrey’s arm. “He just needs some spinach—”
“No...he needs a harsher lesson.” He shook her off him, standing tall. He raised his hand, pointing the gun at Gil’s back.
Olive bounced on the spot, trying to grab his wrist. “No. Don’t—”
“Shush, he’ll hear you.” Jeffrey snatched her and wrapped his free hand around her mouth. “Be quiet, sweetheart.”
She moaned and mumbled behind his palm whi
le he chuckled quietly, keeping his tone low so Gil would never know. “Let’s shoot him and say bye-bye.” He closed one eye, scoping out his prey. “Bye, pathetic nephew.”
It happened in slow motion.
I couldn’t believe he’d do it.
But then, it became real.
So unbelievably real.
No!
I opened my mouth to scream. To shout. To warn.
I jack-knifed as high as I could with rope and tiredness and yelled into the night. “Gil!”
But...just like before...it was too late.
The gunshot ripped my voice apart.
The bullet flashed through the dark.
Somewhere in the blackness, Gil grunted.
A vague shadow cartwheeled forward.
His arms flew backward.
Birds squawked.
Twigs snapped.
Death lodged in his spine.
Gil landed face first in the dirt.
“No!”
Oh, my God.
“No!” I rolled onto my stomach, trying to wriggle with my hands bound behind my back to get to him.
“Gil!”
I fought harder, the ropes slipping a little.
But strong fingers plucked me from the earth. Harsh breath slithered over my nape, and brute strength whipped me around to face him. “Hello again.”
I had no time for him. I didn’t care about him. He was nothing. No one.
“Gil!”
Looking over my shoulder, I willed him to be okay.
But...he didn’t get up.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t react.
“Daddy!” Olive tried to run past Jeffrey, only to be jerked to a stop by her jacket hood again.
“You two, fuck, you have some manners to learn.” Pulling a length of rope from his pocket, he managed to catch Olive’s flying fists and block his ears from her terrible screams as he tied her tight.
Slapping her cheek, he snarled, “Quiet. He’s dead. It’s over. I’m your father now.”
Olive just cried harder.
I had so many things I wanted to say.
So many curses to slur and promises to decree, but the awful, clinging sleep still hadn’t freed me entirely. I opened my mouth, but only tears fell.
He shot him.
He shot him!
“Gil...please wake up!”
Jeffrey slapped me, just as he’d slapped Olive. “You shut up, too.” Bending a little, he wedged his shoulder into my belly and hoisted me over his back. The air crushed out of my lungs. My ribcage bruised as he slung me like a carcass.
Jerking Olive forward, he looked back one last time at Gil’s corpse as he stole us away. “Say goodbye to that useless body painter. You won’t be seeing him again.”
Chapter Six
______________________________
Olin
-The Present-
HE’S GONE.
Gone.
Gone.
I didn’t dare voice the other word. The more permanent word.
Dead.
He’s dead.
He might not be.
I saw him fall.
I watched the bullet.
But I didn’t see the wound.
Didn’t see the blood.
Too far away to feel his pulse or check his breath.
Gone or dead...they were both the same.
The GPS tracker dug into my hip as I swung over Jeffrey’s shoulder. The bones of his arm burrowed into me, compounding agony on top of agony. If Gil was alive, I was grateful. If he was dead, I was distraught.
But it didn’t matter because I’d never see him again.
The GPS coordinates wouldn’t save us as there was no one coming. The little blinking location on Gil’s phone was utterly pointless.
Gil might still be alive.
But...I was dead.
Olive was dead.
Every heartbeat on borrowed time.
Olive hadn’t stopped crying. I’d lost track of how long Jeffrey had dragged us through the dark. The paint on my skin tugged the fine hairs beneath. The bite in the air dressed me in chills. And Olive’s hiccups and distress sent empathy digging deep into my soul.
Her grief consumed the entire forest.
Her belief that her father was dead absolute.
I wanted to comfort her.
To tell her he might be okay. He might live. He might still come and save us.
But I had no air in my lungs from being hung upside down. I had no freedom from pounding temples or slithering tiredness that still threatened to drag me under.
Jeffrey snapped a curse, hauling Olive into a walk as she tripped mid-cry.
She’d just witnessed her father being shot, and he didn’t care at all.
Numbness spread over my stomach, doing its best to protect me from the pain of being carted like a kill. My ears strained for sounds of someone chasing us. Of Gil barrelling through the darkness, healthy and very much alive.
But there was nothing.
No one.
Just my terrified thoughts jumping from topic to topic.
Of freedom.
Of fighting.
Of forgiveness.
Gil hadn’t wanted to do this to me. He’d thought he could win by gambling two lives in order to save one.
But he’d lost.
Three lives in one.
His family...his true blood...his child.
A child that couldn’t stop sobbing.
Jeffrey snarled again, hushing Olive so that only the hoots of owls and scratchings of foxes serenaded us as we travelled the final way.
His footsteps slowed as we reached a small clearing. I tried to see around the upside-down view of his butt but could only make out a lumbering shape in the gloom.
Olive tripped again, only to be hauled to her feet thanks to the rope around her wrists and a harsh jerk from Jeffrey. A clink of keys sounded as he shoved them at her. “Run ahead and unlock, sweetheart. You know the rules now, don’t you?”
She sniffed loudly. The keys stopped singing as her fist clutched them, and she shot forward away from Jeffrey’s abuse. The rope wrapped around her wrists slithered after her in the bracken like a venomous snake.
She moved as if she knew this place well. As if this was her home, all while Gil had done his best to save her. Jeffrey chuckled as he jostled me higher, carrying me to where Olive sniffed and struggled to unzip a large tent.
Bending his knees, my captor groaned as he slid me from his shoulder and plonked me onto the forest floor. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The release of pressure from my ribcage was too much, and my lungs no longer knew how to operate.
My head pounded as blood whooshed from my ears and back into my legs. Grey and black spots danced over my vision as I shook my head, doing my best to clear the remaining fogginess.
Whatever this place was, I couldn’t afford to stay a victim. Jeffrey had shot Gil after telling him he’d keep us alive for better motivation. He’d ended his retirement pay-out by shooting him, so why would he need to keep us breathing?
We were merely a nuisance now and not an incentive.
Time was running out.
Jeffrey checked the rope around my wrists and ankles, re-tightened the knots Gil had done around my wrists, undid the ones around my legs, and hauled me to my feet.
He grunted as I wobbled. “For fuck’s sake, I’ve carried you for long enough. Walk the final distance.” Shoving me forward, he chuckled as I plummeted to my knees. With my hands tied and balance still compromised, I face-planted into a rotten pile of leaves and muck.
“Don’t know what he saw in you.” He nudged me with his boot as I pushed up and did my best to stand. His gentle kick was enough to land me in the dirt again. “Come on, Bambi, don’t have all day.”
I threw him a glower over my shoulder. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“This. Whatever you’re doing. Let us go.”
I fought for the
child of the woman who’d ruined Gil’s life. A child of her creation. But Olive was Gil’s, not Tallup’s.
And this bastard shot him.
My heart squeezed, allowing the word ‘death’ to sink past my fortress. I didn’t have time to grieve.
Sticking my chin up, I forced myself to picture Gil alive. I stood, working out the tightness in my muscles as my body came alive after being hung like drying meat, and focused on freeing myself and Olive.
Jeffrey grinned. “Didn’t learn your lesson from last time, huh? You’re still using that dangerous little word.” His face shot close to mine. “Us.”
“Fine. Release Olive and me.”
“Nope.” He laughed. “Why would I do a stupid thing like that?”
“You shot Gil. What other use do you have with us if he’s not around to pay your demands?”
“Oh, I have other ideas.” He tapped his nose with airs and graces of a secret. “He did a good job padding my retirement. He kept his mouth shut and his wallet open. It’ll be sad not to have such a lucrative nephew, but...” His hand shot out, arching my chin up with his knuckle, bringing the whiff of old cigarettes. “You two can fetch me a pretty penny in other ways.”
I wanted to spit in his face. “We’re not for sale.”
“Sweetheart, everything is for sale.” He smirked coldly. “Gilbert knew that lesson very well.”
My teeth clenched together, hate rolling over me like a wave.
Jeffrey pulled me through the tent’s entrance, revealing it wasn’t a tent but an awning attached to a caravan. A three-seater couch sat beneath an outdoor heater along with a coffee table, TV, and two plastic boxes of household supplies. A threadbare rug covered most of the bracken and twigs, creating the illusion that this was a cheery cabin in some safe woodland. The caravan door hung open, spilling light into the awning.
“Gil was born to whores and became a whore. Their shelf life isn’t the longest—just like any merchandise.” Jeffrey looked me up and down, licking his lips. “He was at the end of his use-by-date. But you...you’re just getting started. I’ll probably sample you before I sell you. Write a review for prospective buyers—that’ll be a laugh. Are you worth one star or five?” He snickered to himself, dragging me up the caravan steps.
The Finished Masterpiece (Master of Trickery Book 3) Page 48