The Body Painter (Master of Trickery Book 1) Read online

  I’d proven the doctors wrong after two years of physiotherapy and determination. I could walk and do yoga and exercise better than the average person.

  But dancing....

  No matter how hard I tried, my back just couldn’t cope.

  I’d cut myself off from my dance troupe because I didn’t belong in their world anymore.

  I’d lied to myself that I could find something better, only to find destitution instead.

  I’d left London where my contract had kept me paid and fed.

  I’d ended up back in Birmingham with my tail between my legs.

  Gil raked a hand through his hair. “When?”

  “Two and a bit years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I blinked, totally dumbfounded to hear such considerate words. “Thanks.”

  He paced away, walking around the stage to stare at my back again.

  I let him, staying still all while his gaze skated up and down my spine. Was he reliving the nicknames he’d kissed into my hair? Was he suffering the history between us?

  His voice did its best to scatter the unwanted tenderness and return to stiff formality. “Normally, I’d send you packing. I don’t deal with piercings, scars, or tattoos, and you have all three.”

  I looked over my shoulder. “I’d say I was sorry, but I’m not. They’re a part of me.”

  He scowled. “Luckily, this commission is frontal only. I don’t need you to contort or reveal parts of you less...desirable.”

  I winced at that.

  Not desirable?

  No woman liked to be told that—regardless of context. Especially from Gil when once he’d been as hungry for me as I’d been for him.

  Our eyes caught again.

  So many things flew. So many feelings and hurts and questions.

  My mouth went dry. My knees quaked.

  Gil’s eyes tightened. His hands fisted.

  We both didn’t have a chance against the lashing, demanding connection.

  He rubbed his mouth with a rough hand, cleared his throat as if eradicating a decade of pain, then returned to his paint table with jerky steps. “We do this one commission, but you’ll have to find another job afterward. Long term won’t work out.”

  As much as I didn’t want to hear such things, I couldn’t blame him.

  I’d fit so much of his ad attributes...apart from some pretty major ones.

  I’d also interrupted his present, reminding him all over again of unfinished business with a girl who never got over him.

  I tried to be pragmatic.

  A few days of employment were better than none.

  Seeing him for an afternoon was better than forever wondering where he was.

  Smiling gently, I ordered my body to relax. I was about to spend untold hours in Gil’s very close presence; it was time to get used to it. “That’s fine, Gil. I’m just grateful for the work you can give me.”

  My soft tone wrenched his eyes up. Our gazes tangled all over again, hot and lashing, completely different to the ice surrounding him.

  My heart stopped beating, hanging onto the fine thread of love-string he’d severed seven years ago. His eyes darkened with torment, his head shaking infinitesimally as if begging me not to be here. Desperate to keep distance between us. Pleading for space...from me.

  It hurt.

  Hurt that echoed with new and old, and in that tiny moment, we weren’t adults with barriers and warnings, we were kids again. Kids who finally found salvation in the other and were courageous enough to pay for that privilege with their hearts.

  I couldn’t stop it.

  He couldn’t stop it.

  Whatever drew us together was still as vicious as before.

  Gil’s neck worked as he swallowed. He struggled to tear his gaze away. His shoulders bunched, and I knew I wasn’t the only one struggling.

  And that knowledge awoke a tiny sliver of hope.

  Hope that frantically plaited filaments of broken string, drawing the two ends of our severed love closer together.

  Gil groaned beneath his breath, turning away from me.

  I gasped as a thousand dormant butterflies stretched their paper wings and flew.

  Chapter Five

  ______________________________

  Gil

  -The Past-

  “MISS MOSS, WHERE do you think you’re going?”

  I glanced up from rubbing out an incorrect answer on my math work. Olin flinched, tucking dark blonde hair behind her ear, the rest of the shoulder-length strands messy from running in the field at lunch.

  I’d watched her stand-up to Josie Prichard—a bully of epic proportions today.

  Josie had cornered a younger student, commanded her to do her chemistry homework, then robbed the poor girl of her lunch money. I’d stayed in the shadows while Olin had dashed across the grass, placed herself bravely in the middle of the bully and victim, and demanded the money back.

  No one else had intervened.

  No one else had been kind enough to stand up for the weak.

  It didn’t matter that Olin hadn’t won.

  Josie just snickered, punched Olin in the shoulder, then pranced away with a smirk. Olin had rubbed the injury while turning to the young girl, then, as if she was some sort of school-ground angel, plucked the girl’s hand and dragged her to her circle of friends where she shared her lunch with her.

  She had to stop being so sweet.

  Had to stop being so courageous because each time she did something selfless, my walls cracked a little.

  I didn’t trust anyone. Literally anyone.

  But Olin...she shone with sincerity. She made me wonder what it would be like to trust her. To have the luxury of her friendship, knowing she’d have my back because that was who she was. She wasn’t fake. She didn’t protect others for recognition or reward.

  She helped others because she was good.

  And being good these days was one of the rarest things in the world.

  For God sake’s, even the wildlife wasn’t safe from her sweetness.

  The sparrows got her sandwich crumbs; the squirrels earned nuts bought to school especially for them. Even the scratched, scarred, and ill-tempered tom cat got loved on as she walked home at the end of the day.

  Home time was the only moment when her happiness faded. Her dancing gracefulness fell flat. Her positive personality clouding over.

  Yet another reason why she intrigued me.

  She gave everything she had to those around her, but when it came time to return to loved ones, she dragged her heels and acted as if home wasn’t an enjoyable place to be.

  I understood that far too well.

  “I asked you a question, Miss Moss. Where do you think you’re going?”

  Olin rolled into herself, intimidated by Ms Tallup’s stare.

  Couldn’t blame her. Ms Tallup had a nasty streak that was deadly intimidating.

  “Bathroom?” Her voice pitched with guilt.

  The two girls she hung out with snickered beside her. Olin didn’t look at them.

  She was the opposite of me.

  I was the boy everyone left alone.

  She was the girl everyone wanted to be with. Girls flocked to her side. Boys beamed whenever she walked by. But I had a suspicion she was lonely beneath the popularity.

  I didn’t know how I knew but her drive to protect others must come from somewhere, and it usually came from a desire to have someone do the same for them.

  I got it.

  I wanted someone to look after me, too. I was sick of fighting through life and dealing with punches, kicks, and sleepless nights. But I was far too wary to go out of my way to help like she did. Far too closed off to give the meagre energy I had to others.

  Ms Tallup narrowed her cold, grey eyes. “You went to the bathroom ten minutes ago.”

  “Tiny bladder.” Olin dropped her gaze, a blush working over pretty cheekbones.

  “I don’t believe you.” Ms Tallup stomped to her
desk and tossed down a notepad. “But I have to let you go, school policy and all.” Her head snapped up. “But you’re taking another student.”

  “Oh.” Olin wrinkled her nose. “But, I—”

  “No buts.” Ms Tallup surveyed the congregation of students. “Mr. Clark. You’ll accompany Miss Moss and make sure she doesn’t get lost on her journey.”

  “Me?” I coughed.

  What the hell?

  I was fine nursing my crush from afar.

  Happy to watch her good deeds and selfless acts without her ever knowing how much I missed her when she wasn’t there. How much I thought about her when I was at home with screaming whores and cursing fathers.

  She didn’t need to be tainted by me.

  Not when she was literally the only good thing in my world.

  An addiction really.

  Not only did her kindness trigger a hunger deep inside me to be on the participating end of her generosity but she was just so goddamn beautiful.

  Inside and out.

  However, that didn’t mean I wanted her to—

  Olin looked over her shoulder, noticing me for the first time. Her nose smoothed from its embarrassed wrinkle, looking me up and down. She took in the grubby T-shirt I hadn’t washed in a while and the jeans that should’ve been recycled rather than cursed to keep covering my overgrown legs.

  She smiled a little, her heart pure and perfect.

  She didn’t grimace or shame me. She didn’t act as if having me escort her would be a death sentence like so many of the girls in our grade would do.

  I tore my eyes from hers, unable to hold her open, accepting stare.

  She sucked in a tiny gasp before turning back to our teacher. “It’s okay, Ms Tallup. I think Mr. Clark would prefer I go with someone else. I can take Patty—”

  “No. You will take Mr. Clark.” Ms Tallup eyed Patty—the red-haired troublemaker—and smirked. “I don’t trust you girls together.”

  I flinched as Ms Tallup’s gaze found mine, freezing me in place. “I trust Mr. Clark. Don’t I, Gilbert?”

  My flinch became a cower which I tried to hide with a nonchalant grunt. My hand shook as I dropped my eraser and stood.

  There would be no arguments.

  Ms Tallup had taught me that last year when she’d held me back a grade. And the year before that when she’d decided I was too stupid to advance with the other students.

  Two years of repeats.

  Two years of living a nightmare.

  I was at her mercy if I wanted to stay in school and get the hell out of this life.

  “Yes, Ms Tallup.”

  “Good boy.” Turning toward the board again, she waved at the exit. “Run along now and come back to me quickly.”

  Standing, I moved toward Olin and hesitated beside her. Already whispers and snickers filled the classroom. My back crawled being centre of attention. My temper spiked.

  If we were going to do this, I wanted it over with.

  Not thinking of the ramifications, I grabbed her wrist, yanked her from her seat, and dragged her from the classroom. I didn’t let the fact that this was the first time I’d touched her knot my stomach or the fact that she’d probably never want to be alone with me again stop me.

  I just couldn’t stand there with so many eyes upon us.

  Instead of fighting me, Olin slipped into step, her dainty dancer’s feet light and balanced.

  Yet another thing that drew me to her.

  The way she moved was magic.

  A cat-like grace to her every stride.

  I’d often hid in the dusty hall when the school squad practiced their dancing. Her feet had wings. Her body could twist and bend like some silky, perfect ribbon.

  She truly was my every fantasy, and that terrified me because the girl in my grasp could never live up to the illusion I’d created, and I didn’t want to lose her. Didn’t want to lose the dream-girl who made my days slightly better just by watching her dance in the field or sneaking home-baked goods to substitute teachers.

  I didn’t have much, but I did have my version of Olin. I’d daydreamed her into something my heart desperately wanted because I needed an escape from reality.

  I couldn’t afford to risk finding out the real girl wasn’t nearly as good as my creation.

  The second we were in the corridor and the door closed behind us, Olin wriggled her wrist gently. She didn’t rip out of my hold, just politely cleared her throat and murmured, “You can let go now. No one is watching us anymore.”

  I tore my hand off her, my fingers trembling.

  Goddammit, even her voice affected me.

  Soft and lyrical, gentle and calming.

  My heart tripped and stumbled, a black temper doing its best to protect me from falling hard and falling forever. “Hurry.” I nudged my chin at the bathrooms down the hall. “Be quick.”

  She sighed sadly. “I’ll be as fast as I can.” Reaching into her pocket for her cell phone, she didn’t move toward the facilities.

  “What are you doing?” I crossed my arms.

  “I don’t really need to go to the bathroom.” She gave me another soft, gentle smile. A smile that no longer held light-hearted, bubbly energy she used with everyone, but dripped with unhappiness and truth.

  I froze as every instinct to protect her rose viciously and violently.

  This girl was invincible in her quest to save, soothe, and help, so why did her shoulders roll and tears gloss her complex hazel eyes?

  My heart growled, desperate not to fall for whatever lie this was. Begging me not to reach out and help her for a change.

  But that was the problem.

  Olin wasn’t a walking, talking lie like the rest of this school.

  Her many acts of sweetness had proven that over and over again. I’d watched her for two years. I’d lost count how many times she’d restored my hope in humanity just by being her.

  If I was brutally honest with myself, I was mostly in love with her and I’d never even said hello.

  I stood stupid and silent as her fingers flew over the on-screen keyboard. My chest ached as she sniffed back sadness and bit her bottom lip.

  “What are you doing?” The repeated question fell dark and distrusting before I could stop myself.

  Her gaze met mine, the liquid receding a little. She didn’t hide this time. “Responding to an urgent text.”

  I mulled over her reply, not used to conversation with anyone, let alone the girl of my many fascinations.

  Rubbing the back of my neck, I forced out. “So urgent you risked detention?”

  Olin returned her attention to her phone. “She can’t give out detention for having a weak bladder.”

  Annoyance at her idiocy rose. “She can do whatever she wants. Tallup isn’t someone you want to cross.”

  I knew that from personal experience.

  “I know. But...” She blew air up her face, making pretty bangs dance on her forehead. “I won’t be able to concentrate unless I send this.” She sniffed back another gush of suspicious wetness in her eyes. “Because...well, you see...it’s just...very important.”

  Once again a surge to be nice overwhelmed me. I didn’t like her this way. I wasn’t used to her showing weakness. She fought for those who needed help. She’d never cried. Not once.

  I’d never seen her so...in pain.

  Fuck.

  I didn’t speak again.

  I couldn’t.

  My heart successfully ignored all my warnings and wanted to keep her. I didn’t know how a few sentences and the hint of tears could make me sign over my trust, just like that.

  She’d successfully done what no one else had before.

  She’d made me care.

  Made me put my own sorry excuse of a life on the line. Made me want to put her first and always, always be there for her.

  My entire body ached while Olin ignored me and wrote her text. My heart ached. My belly ached. My head. My arms. They all ached because the fantasy was no longe
r just a girl I watched from afar.

  She was here.

  Standing in front of me.

  And I didn’t know what the fuck to do.

  A minute passed.

  Then another.

  An awful thought harpooned me.

  Is she messaging a boyfriend?

  I’d never seen her with anyone but that didn’t mean she wasn’t secretive or seeing someone outside of school.

  Was this a breakup text?

  Curiosity burned like acid while her fingers tapped softly.

  Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer.

  Shoving hands into jeans pockets, I cleared my throat. “You done?”

  “Almost.” Her tongue stuck between her lips. With a heavy sigh, she pressed send. “There. Finished.”

  I fought the urge to ask. I forbid myself from grabbing her and never letting go. I wanted to know everything. I wanted to be the only one she trusted.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Moving toward the classroom door, I did the most logical thing and not the crazy delusion of stealing her from school and never bringing her back.

  Reaching for the door-handle, I jumped as Olin pleaded, “Um, wait?” Her shoulders slumped all over again. She looked at me then down the empty corridor as if needing time before facing education again.

  I paused, recognising her reluctance. I knew that look. The look of being trapped when all you wanted was to be free.

  My prison was made up of drunkards and fears of homelessness.

  What bars surrounded her?

  I balled my hands. “You...eh, you okay?”

  She half-smiled, tucking loose hair behind her ear. “You know what? No, not really.” Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t meant to say such things. “Sorry. Whoops, I didn’t mean to...ugh, forget it.” Her smile blinded me, bright and brave—the one I knew because she wore it like armour.

  “Don’t do that.” My heart swelled at her confiding in me, then frosted over at her attempt to hide. “Don’t lie.”

  She flinched. “I didn’t lie.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  She jerked as if I’d offered crack cocaine in the school corridor. I understood why such an offer would seem random and totally out of nowhere but...we weren’t total strangers.