The Finished Masterpiece (Master of Trickery Book 3)

by Pepper Winters

  She didn’t look up, just cried harder. “How? Daddy’s in prison. You’re going away. And Justin works all the time, and I don’t like the babysitter.” Her cheeks glowed red as she looked up, anger and agony in her grey gaze. “I don’t want this. I want to go home with Dad. I want him to come home with me. I miss him.” Her tears became sobs as I pulled her into my arms. “I miss him sooooo much. How much longer do we have to live apart?”

  I rocked her, kissing the top of her head. “Not long. Once this is over, you’ll both be free to live the rest of your life together if you want.”

  Olive sniffed. “But five years is forever.”

  It is.

  It’s so, so long.

  “It will go by fast if you stay busy.” I said that for her benefit but also reminded myself too. “You’re going back to school. You’ll make new friends and learn more skills. And when he’s out, you can paint together all the time. A true family business.”

  “But it’s so long.” Her shoulders drooped, more tears splashing. “I don’t think I can do it.”

  “You can. You will.” I kissed her head again. “It’s a long time, but Justin is here. He’ll take care of you and you can still see your dad. You can go visit him.”

  “Wait...I can?” Her eyes lit up instantly. “Can we go now?”

  I didn’t know what prison protocol was but I guessed they’d need him to settle into his new home before visitation. I stroked her glossy hair with a gentle smile. “I’ll find out when you can.”

  “Can you come too?” She threw her arms around me, squeezing me tighter than I expected. “Please?”

  Justin appeared in the door frame, his lips twisted into a half-smile, his body reclining against the wall.

  I held his gaze as I squeezed Olive back. “Of course, I’ll come for however long I’m in town.”

  My promise to leave tasted like ash in my mouth.

  Could I leave?

  Where would I go?

  Why would I go when this poor little girl needed care?

  She has Justin.

  Gil set you free.

  You have to leave.

  If I stood any chance of finding who I truly was, I had to open my wings.

  But...

  What if I don’t want to fly away? What if what I want is right here?

  “I don’t want you to go. All the people I love leave me.” Olive pulled away, her face deadly serious and determined even as crystal tears rained. “Move in with us. Don’t go away. Please, please don’t go.”

  I froze.

  Justin stiffened.

  Olive arched her chin, defiant and ready to fight. “I like Justin. He’s way nicer than Uncle Jeffrey, but...I don’t want to be alone without my dad. I liked staying at your place. If you won’t move in here, can I come live with you instead?”

  Oh, no.

  I tried to apologise silently to Justin over Olive’s head. I didn’t mean to destabilise her new home with him. I didn’t want to ruin their fragile bond.

  But Justin shrugged, saying quietly, “There’s plenty of room if you want to join us, O.”

  My heart crashed blindly. “But I have an apartment.”

  “An apartment where your lease is almost up and you weren’t going to renew it.”

  Damn for confiding in him.

  “You know I’m planning on travelling.”

  “You need time to save and decide where to go. You could save more by moving in here.”

  “I wouldn’t live here for free, Justin. I’d pay rent, same as any other place.”

  He nodded, appeasing me. “That’s fine. But you have to admit, it makes logical sense.”

  I tried to think up another excuse why moving in with Gil’s only friend and his lonely daughter was a bad idea. The truth was, it was a terrible idea because it kept me in Gil’s stratosphere.

  Justin seemed to sense my thoughts. “He let you go that night...didn’t he?”

  I jerked. “How do you know about that?”

  “I didn’t until now.” He sighed. “When I saw him the next morning, he seemed different. Sad, definitely, but relieved too. Relieved that he’d set you free and wouldn’t mess up your life any more than he already had.”

  “Isn’t it up to me if I want him to mess it up or not?”

  He chuckled. “I suppose.” His eyes glowed with questions. “So...are you? Going to wait for him?” He looked at Olive. “Are you really thinking of putting your life on hold for five years?”

  Olive watched us, cheeks glistening, chest heaving from her sobs. But she didn’t interrupt, almost as if she knew this was one of the most important conversations of my life.

  Justin was forcing me to answer a question I didn’t know how. Asking me if I would wait for the boy I’d been waiting for my entire existence.

  Could I wait?

  Should I?

  Why would I when there was so much that’d gone wrong between us?

  I wanted to move on.

  I needed to move on.

  I wouldn’t survive five years pining after him.

  And yet...

  The thought of walking away, of finding him via a job advertisement, then just leaving?

  God.

  I knew what it was like to miss Gil.

  I’d learned that lesson many, many times in the years we’d spent apart.

  But that was yet another reason I should go.

  Before it was too late.

  Because missing him was too painful and living in limbo too great a toll.

  I slouched, running my hand through Olive’s hair. “I honestly don’t know.”

  He gave me a half-smile. “You don’t have to decide right now. That’s the beauty of this situation. Gil isn’t going anywhere.”

  I tried to laugh—to find humour in hardship. Instead, I cuddled Olive close and kissed her crown.

  “So...?” Olive blinked. “Are you staying? You can move into my room with me. Can’t she, Justin?” She looked at her godfather.

  “She could.” He nodded. “But she can also have my room, and I can take the couch.”

  I scowled. “I’m not kicking you out of your bedroom, Justin.”

  “Ah, so you are thinking about it?”

  I shrugged again. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  “But you haven’t made any decisions on flying away yet.”

  “No...I’ve been looking at flights, but every time I go to book, something happens.”

  He chuckled quietly. “Could be a sign that you’re meant to stay here.”

  “And here is just as complicated as there.”

  He sighed. “Isn’t that the bitch.”

  I placed my hands over Olive’s dainty ears. “Language, Mr. Miller.”

  Olive smiled through her sadness. “Dad swears far worse than that. I know all the swear words. Uncle Jeffrey said a lot of them too.”

  I tried to be stern. “Well, just because you know them doesn’t mean you can use them.”

  “I know.” She pouted, plucking at the comforter. “I miss Dad. Are you sure we can’t go see him yet?”

  “In a few days, pipsqueak,” Justin said gently. “They’ll need time to settle him into his new home.”

  “It’s not a home. It’s a jail.” Her eyes flashed. “He should be here, with me.”

  “He should.” Justin came in, squatting to his haunches by the bed and staring up at Olive. “But you know why he had to go away. We talked about it last night, remember? He stopped Uncle Jeffrey from doing bad things to other girls. He did the right thing by stopping him, but the rules of society means he has to pay for taking the law into his own hands.”

  “That’s just stupid.” Olive stuck out her bottom lip. “He should be given a gold sticker like they used to at school when you did good things.”

  I smiled, hugging her close. “How about we give him a gold sticker when we visit him.”

  “Can we?” She turned in my arms, her grey gaze so intelligent and fierce. “Can w
e go together all the time and let him know that we don’t think he’s bad.”

  My heart squeezed. “Of course.”

  Justin stood, looking down at both of us, his gaze pensive. “Stay at least tonight, O. You’d be doing me a huge favour.” Lowering his voice, he added, “I’m not entirely sure I’m equipped to help if Olive has a panic attack tonight.”

  The thought of returning to an empty apartment and my chaotic thoughts was definitely not appealing. But staying would feel like a betrayal to Gil—agreeing to play families with Justin and Olive, all while he rotted in a cell.

  Justin was my friend.

  Platonic and sweet.

  And I liked him.

  But I didn’t know if I could live with him.

  “Is that a yes?” he asked gently.

  I looked away, unable to keep his stare. “It’s a maybe.”

  “No.” Tears fell swift, Olive clung to me. Her chest rose and fell, faster and faster, her grief finding her all over again. “Don’t go. Please don’t go.” Her arms were wiry and tight, locking around me.

  And I did something stupid.

  I let her keep me.

  “Hey, don’t cry.” I wriggled a little in her embrace and brushed back her hair.

  Her eyes met mine.

  My heart pounded.

  And I said, “I’ll stay...for a little while.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ______________________________

  Olin

  “HELLO, GIL.”

  Gil stood beside the metal table in the visitation area, his love for me evident in his gaze.

  My heart kicked, responded, replied.

  It’d been eight days since I’d seen him.

  Eight days since I’d listened to his sentencing.

  Eight days since I’d come to the realisation that I was still stupidly in love with him and still stupidly unable to make a decision about my life.

  I’d been a fool to think I could walk away.

  I’d been an idiot to think I could stay.

  Limbo was where I’d existed the past few years since my accident, and I couldn’t seem to get free. Especially now that Gil had stolen the final pieces of my soul and became untouchable.

  “O...hi.” His voice licked around me with velveteen love. His affection no longer buried beneath ice. He seemed different. He was a ward of the crown, yet...he seemed freer than I’d ever seen. “It’s so nice to see you.”

  The urge to hug him was agony.

  But we’d been told hugging wasn’t permitted. At least he’d been placed in a low security prison where face-to-face visitation was allowed and not maximum security where glass and phone was the only way to communicate.

  That would’ve been an extra level of hell for Olive.

  This was already unbearable.

  I wanted to tell him what the last week had entailed.

  How my lease ended in a month and I didn’t know what I should do.

  How Olive had begged me to sleep in her room at Justin’s four out of the past eight nights, because she couldn’t cope knowing he was gone.

  How Justin had offered again for me to move in, and I didn’t know what my answer should be.

  My tongue tied.

  Desperate to tell him everything. To ask him what he wanted. To hear him say he could never let me go, and that I should stay.

  And wait.

  But Olive barrelled past me, stealing Gil’s attention.

  “Olive Oyl.” His entire body softened as he fell to one knee. His arms opened wide, looking like a proud father, starving man, and pained protector all at once.

  “You can’t hug—”

  Too late.

  Olive launched into his embrace, and Gil trapped her close. He buried his face against her sweet, strawberry smelling hair, and Olive clung to him like a baby spider monkey.

  They didn’t obey the rules as fresh tears rolled down Olive’s cheek as she leaned back to kiss Gil’s five o’clock shadow.

  He kissed her back before pushing her painfully away and standing. A guard caught our gaze in warning, shaking his head at our affection.

  Gil cleared his throat and pinned his attention back on Olive. “Wow, little spinach. You better stop growing because I swear you’re already bigger than last week.”

  Olive smiled but didn’t laugh. Her bubbliness had faded somewhat. But her joy at being with Gil was evident. “I’ll stop growing. I promise I won’t grow another inch until you’re home.”

  “Nah, you can’t do that. Ignore me. You have to grow into a gorgeous creature who will kill me on a daily basis with how awesome she is.”

  She blushed.

  Now our reunion was over, the rest of the world came back into focus. Other families chatted with loved ones, the visiting room buzzing with relief and regret at seeing each other but still torn apart.

  We stood in the corner; our own private oasis.

  Olive’s gaze skipped over other parents with their kids, grateful prisoners, stern guards, and doting wives and girlfriends.

  The scene was sweet with so much affection but raw with so much loss.

  I hoped she wouldn’t have a nightmare tonight.

  She’d suffered pretty bad since Gil had gone. She’d wake up screaming and only my touch could snap her out of it. If Justin tried to soothe her, he just made it worse.

  On the nights that I hadn’t stayed, he’d called in the early hours of the morning, begging me to talk to her. To help her know she was safe, that Jeffrey was dead, and Justin wasn’t her uncle.

  Child Protective Services had also called, checking in on Olive’s living arrangements and providing the name of a therapist with skills in helping children overcome traumatic events. At least they were happy that Olive’s best interests were upheld and allowed us to keep temporary custody.

  We were all tired.

  And confused on how best to make our new realities work.

  Cupping Olive’s cheek, Gil earned a scowl from a nearby guard. He reluctantly let her go and motioned to the metal chairs bolted to the floor. “Sit. Hang out with me.”

  Olive took one while Gil and I took the others.

  Reaching across the table, Olive grabbed his hand and didn’t let go. Even when another guard moved toward us and Gil dropped their grip beneath the table out of sight.

  I waited to see if he’d be reprimanded, but the guard just narrowed his eyes and returned to his post, allowing a small kindness between father and daughter.

  “Are you okay? No one is being mean?” Olive sniffed back tears.

  Gil smiled and shook his head. “No, everyone has been very welcoming.”

  His eyes slid to mine, hiding the truth.

  I doubted everyone had been welcoming. Shadows marked his jaw, and he’d sat stiffly—all signs I recognised of him being bruised from a fist.

  I shivered, hating that he was locked in there and unable to escape brutality. Hating that I couldn’t have a frank conversation with him because of innocent ears.

  Was he truly okay? Was it true that men shed their human skins and became monsters in jail? That beatings and rapings were just a part of prison life, or was that merely conspiracies and gossip, designed to scare you into staying straight?

  “Are you painting?” Olive asked, swiping her nose with the back of her hand and blinking away more tears, as if she knew her grief was hard on her father.

  “No. I don’t have much inspiration. My muses are all back at home.” His eyes flashed to mine again, holding my stare with a need so rich and deep, if it was a colour, it would’ve been a decadent red.

  “Will you teach other prisoners how to paint?” Olive looked around at the bland beige walls. “Maybe you can graffiti in here like our rainforest wall. It’s ugly.”

  Gil chuckled. “That would be an improvement to the place. I agree.”

  I leaned back, allowing the small family to have their conversations and privacy. I’d come as chaperone to Olive as Justin was working, and I’d bee
n given the afternoon off. Shannon wasn’t as friendly these days, and the mystery of me being used as a pawn in the painted murders had worn off. No one in the office liked me because I didn’t make an effort to mingle.

  I didn’t go there to find company. I went there to earn money, and frankly, I didn’t know how much longer I could stay.

  It was yet another hurdle I had to jump.

  Quit my job and have no income.

  Give up my lease and have no home.

  Walk away from everything and have no Gil or Olive.

  I couldn’t deny that watching Gil with his daughter made me more alive than I had been in days. I fell deeper into him, seeing such a tender side. My shattered trust stitched itself back together, witnessing a guy who wasn’t the scared, icy boy anymore but a man who wore his mistakes with pride.

  It punched me in the heart with hypocrisy.

  I loved Gil.

  I probably always would.

  And now...when there were no more secrets keeping us apart, I was the one who hid the truth. Who didn’t know if she was brave enough to admit that this was what she wanted.

  Him.

  Her.

  A ready-made family who I’d fallen head over heels for.

  Five years was an eternity.

  But it was nothing in the term of a lifetime.

  I sat stewing in my thoughts as Olive chattered and drank in her father. Gil smiled dotingly and gave her every scrap of attention.

  Fifteen minutes later, a buzzer sounded, announcing the end of visitation.

  Olive’s eyes immediately filled with tears again. “No. I don’t want to go. Dad, come home with us.”

  Gil cupped her cheek, sadness creating grooves in his forehead and deep brackets around his mouth. “I’d love nothing more than to go home with you, little spinach, but I can’t. Not yet.”

  “Can I move in here with you then?” She stood and hugged him while he still sat in the chair. He squeezed her, even as a guard cleared his throat, encroaching with his rules. “This isn’t a nice place for little Olive Oyls.”

  “Then where can we go to be together?”

  Gil pushed her toward me, a plea in his gaze.