He flinched.
“How long, Gil? How long has the blackmail been going on for?”
His lips thinned as he crossed his arms tighter. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does if it’s running you into the ground.”
He shrugged.
“Did you sell some of your furniture? To pay this arsehole?”
His eyes shot to sniper. “Again. You’re trying to connect dots that—”
“That fit together.” I sat on my knees. “I’m not going to ask anything else. I’m just going to ask if I can help you. Again. Seeing as all my previous offers have been ignored.”
“You know...” He kept a watchful stare on me. “Ever since Justin interrupted us and announced the news about a body painting murderer, I’ve waited for you to ask if I’m involved.”
My heart literally skipped a beat. “Um...ar-are you?”
His forehead furrowed. “Aren’t you even a little bit worried I might be?”
I looked at my duvet, plucking it with worried fingers. “I won’t deny that the thought did cross my mind...for a second.” I forced myself to glance up. “But...I know you. I know you’re not capable—”
“How can you be so sure?” With the swiftness of something supernatural, he flew from my door to my bedside and cupped my cheeks. His eyes locked on mine for an eternity. He dropped his guards and let me swim through his sins.
I didn’t understand any of them. I couldn’t grasp what they were.
But there was no death inside him.
No psychotic tendencies or murderous urges.
Placing my hands on his, I smiled gently. “I’m sure.”
“I can’t decide if you’re a saint or delusional.”
I winced. “I think I’m a little bit of both.”
Letting his hands drop, he paced away, raking fingers through his hair, unable to stay still. “I stand by what I said; I don’t know how I ever deserved you in the past. I definitely don’t deserve you now.”
I let him stalk the shadows for a bit before whispering, “It’s not about deserving, Gil. It’s about family.”
“Even family have their limits.”
“Not us.”
Silence fell for a moment.
I broke it, whispering, “I’ve asked you this before, but...do you need money?”
I’d offer the contents of my empty bank account if it would wipe away the horror from his eyes.
“Goddammit, O.” Gil slowly turned to face me, his gaze tortured. “How do you do it? How do you forgive and forgive? How do you have such power over me to make me forget...even for a little while...the utter shit in my life?” He groaned. “I hate you for that, you know. Hate that being with you cures my continuous pain.”
I trembled. “Why is that a bad thing?”
“Because I can’t be cured. I could never fucking forgive myself if I—” He cut himself off, sucking in a breath. “I don’t want your money. But I do need your help. Be my canvas. Tomorrow. I have a commission that came in. I’d refused it, but...I don’t have a choice.”
I ignored the wounds caused by his previous admission, shrugging sadly. “I would. Of course, I would. But I have work.”
He stiffened, looking out the window with layers of grief. “I’ll pay you triple what they are.”
“You can’t. You need the money for whatever this guy has over you.”
“I won’t let you work for free.”
“I can’t work for you at all. But I’ll help you find—”
“Not enough time.” Sitting on the side of my bed, he took my hand in his. He squeezed it until my bones scrunched together, and I winced. “I’m not a begging man, but when it comes to you, I seem to kneel often.” He looked at my hands, stroking my knuckles with his thumb. “I have no dignity left. I have no honour or self-respect. I will do whatever it takes to pay my debts. I will hurt and steal to ensure every penny is paid. Do you hear what I’m saying?” His gaze flashed violent and honest. “I would sacrifice anything, anyone. I’m the lowest of the low.” He slid off the mattress and onto his knees.
Before, he’d knelt between my legs to grant me angry pleasure. Now, he knelt at my side pleading for things I couldn’t understand. Just like he’d knelt and begged me to lie to the police.
“Call in sick. One day. I’ll paint fast. I’ll do the commission and get the money, and you can go back to your cubicle.”
I sniffed. “I’m not embarrassed of my cubicle, Gil. It’s a steady paycheque. I’m grateful for it.”
“And I’d be forever grateful if you help me earn a paycheque too.”
I wanted to say no—not out of vindictiveness but out of loyalty to an employer who allowed me to keep my apartment and food on the table.
But...
Gil.
He looked at me like he used to at school when he’d hidden a bruised rib or bleeding nose from class but trusted me to keep his wounds secret and heal them. He’d trusted me not to pity him. He’d trusted me to love him regardless of his actions and backstory.
My heart raced as I touched his cheek. “You’re not the lowest of the low.”
He chuckled, dark and empty. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”
“I know what you are.” I bent to kiss him.
He accepted the sweet kiss with a flinch.
He didn’t kiss me back.
“I’ll help you, Gilbert Clark.” I pulled away, his lips glistening in the shadows from mine. “One day. For tomorrow only, I’ll be your canvas.”
He nodded as if I’d just sentenced everyone he ever loved to death. Standing, he pulled out his phone and texted whoever he’d previously denied. Once he’d accepted the commission, he turned to me in the darkness. “There are many things between us, O. Things you’ll never understand. But I need you to know...you’re saving my life tonight. You’ve saved it before...recently with lying about the license plate, and previously when we were younger. Every injury you bandaged, every painkiller you administered, I knew I could never repay you.” His voice roughened. “I can never give you what you’ve just given me. Thank you isn’t enough, but I’ll say it anyway.”
His eyes captured mine, and he bowed low and eternally grateful. “Thank you. Thank you, Olin Moss...for being you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
______________________________
Gil
-The Past-
ANOTHER WEEK OF discomfort.
Another week of watching Ms Tallup pick on Olin in class: two detentions and a trip to the principal’s office. Each reprimand I did my best not to leap from my desk and punch the bitch-teacher in the face.
Olin didn’t have a clue why she was being targeted.
But I did.
I was the reason.
I knew it every time Ms Tallup glanced my way.
I knew it every time I felt her eyes on me in the cafeteria and school hall.
I knew it with utmost certainty when I hung back from class on Friday and prepared to fight for Olin’s future.
Mine might be fucked but Olin’s...I wouldn’t let anything destroy it—let alone a teacher who wanted things she could never have.