Black Heart Painted Gold (The Painted Sinners Duet #2)

Chapter 1 Haunting Atticus

HAUNTING ATTICUS

ATTICUS

"Fuck." I uncurl my fist from the bar as I finish the set. The old calluses strain while the newer blisters ache and sting. Lately, I've needed at least three sessions in the gym every day to be able to fall asleep at night, but my body is starting to pay for it.

I give my shoulder a cautious roll and check the clock.

It's getting close to lunchtime.

Chimichurri steaks and grilled vegetables today. Eventually, I'll make something Aurora can't refuse.

Maybe the ninety-dollar cuts of Wagyu beef meticulously marinated in garlic and parsley sauce will be the thing that breaks her.

It's been ten days since she told me she doesn't exist for me anymore.

Ten days, and every fucking one of them, her silence is like a knife in my gut. The lack of her presence like a ghost in every room. Haunting me.

I’ve survived war. I’ve survived torture and betrayal. I’ve survived things that would break most men. But this? Her absence while she's standing right in front of me?

This might be the thing that finally makes me crack.

I hoped it wouldn't last, but I underestimated her determination. I've been underestimating her since the first moment I saw her.

It takes thirty minutes for me to wipe, scrub, and sweep out the gym, leaving no trace of myself in the space aside from a few extra towels in the laundry bin by the door. I'll empty it later.

I see Eli down the hall as I exit and rush to catch him before he heads out back.

"Hey. Wait up a sec."

A muscle in his jaw flexes, and he's got that look. The one he's reserved only for me since the incident. It speaks volumes without him needing to say a goddamned word.

Sev and Eli might have forgiven me, but they've made it clear that they support Aurora's choice to cut me out like some sort of cancerous growth.

"What is it?"

"Everything's in place," I tell him. "Just waiting on confirmation from my contact at the university and then we'll be good to go."

"Okay."

My teeth clench. Okay?

"Meaning we'll need to go over the plan," I explain, trying to keep the acid in my chest from tainting my tone. "All of us."

Eli sighs, pinching the space between his eyes. "Dude, you can tell us and we'll tell her."

"Could you just—" My fists curl, and heat spreads across my back like brushfire. "Could you just ask her? If she has to learn everything secondhand, something is going to get fucked up, and if something gets fucked up, then she could be at risk and I won't be able to—"

"Fine," he interrupts. "You made your point. I'll talk to her."

I should be relieved, but my gut tenses instead.

What if she refuses?

"Atticus?"

"Hmm?" I bring my focus back to Eli, ignoring the sudden urge to go right back to pumping iron in the gym and skip lunch altogether.

His brow furrows. "I asked if you're good."

"Yeah. I'm fine. Why?"

Eli shakes his head. "Sleeping barely four hours a night and killing yourself in the gym is not going to fix things with her."

My jaw clicks. "And how exactly am I supposed to fix anything with her when I've been forbidden from speaking to her? From even looking at her? Hmm?"

He sighs and the way his stare drops from mine tells me he doesn't have any damned suggestions for me, either. Because how the hell do you even come back from complete apathy?

Eli rubs at the back of his neck. "I don't know, man. You'll have to get creative."

I scoff. "Maybe if she'll talk to me—even if it's only for the mission—then…"

I growl and throw a hand through my hair. "I have no idea how to do this, E."

I've never been good at apologizing, and this time, saying the words 'I'm sorry' isn't going to come close to cutting it. I have no idea what I'm doing, and everything I think to try doesn't seem right. I'm just as liable to fuck things up between us even more as I am to fix them.

Eli shrugs. "Look, you know Sev and I are angry about what you did.

It was impulsive, needlessly extreme, and downright fucking stupid.

You hurt her. Maybe not physically, but we know better than anyone that hurt in here—" He knocks on his chest. "—can leave much deeper scars. She trusted you, and you betrayed her."

It's nothing he hasn't said already, but hearing it again stings even more than the first time he said it. We trusted someone once, and he betrayed us. I know how that feels.

"Me and Sev know you, Atticus," Eli continues. "We know how uncompromising you are with our safety. That you're always thinking three moves ahead, even when it's to your own detriment. Aurora doesn't know you like that. She doesn't know you'll happily be the villain if it means we all live."

I try to unclench my fists, but I can't.

I know I should be grateful Sev and Eli get it, at least for the most part, but I can't help feeling like it doesn't matter. Every day she ignores me, it's like I'm getting smaller. Soon, I'm going to vanish entirely.

Eli gives my shoulder a squeeze. "Give her time. You'll figure it out."

"Will you talk to her now?"

He frowns, confused.

"About going over the plan," I press.

He winces. "Not right this second."

My fists clench tighter. "Why not?"

"It's the warmest day we've had in weeks. Let her enjoy it, man."

"But—"

"I promise I'll talk to her about it later."

Before I can argue any more, Eli slips through the back door, and away from this conversation.

I refuse to even look out into the sunny afternoon, ignoring Sev's laughter as I head straight for the stairs, descending into the cooler temperature of my bedroom. My shower is even colder, but I can barely feel it. Maybe my heart really is made of ice. Maybe ghosts can't feel the cold.

But even here in the shower, I close my eyes and I see her. Angry, betrayed, and terrified. Because of me.

It's the same at night. When it was happening and I was lost in my delusional fucking spiral, I didn't notice the hurt in her eyes.

Or the way her lower lip had quivered. How she alternately recoiled from me and stood her ground, fists clenched and body trembling.

I see it now, though. It replays over and over again.

My stomach drops and I lean into the stream of cold water, but even the shock of cold can't erase the feeling, or the vivid images of her seared into the backs of my eyelids.

It would've been better if she'd shot me. I wish she had. Not lethally, but maybe getting even might've helped things. Maybe if there was a still healing bullet wound in my body inflicted by her, I wouldn't have to feel this…this…

God, I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

The worst part isn’t the silence. It’s knowing I did this. I took something wild and good and rare and I crushed it in my fist because I was too fucking scared to try to hold it gently.

Florence would be so disappointed in me.

The thought makes my chest ache in a way no amount of time in the gym can fix.

And after I held her. Tasted her. Let myself feel things I didn't even know I was capable of feeling. Fuck.

I drop my head against the tile hard enough that the ache rattles down my spine and through my jaw where my tooth is still trying to replant itself. I do it again and then once more until my thoughts come clearer and the image of her is finally fucking cast out.

Slipping into a pair of swim shorts afterward, I reach for a shirt, but shut the drawer instead. I've got a massive pump from my workout. Would be a shame to cover it up.

The marble bust of Epicurus, or what's left of it after Aurora threw the fucking thing at me, stares at me from its perch atop the pedestal by the door. Even with only one remaining eye, the thing judges me.

"What? It's hot out."

As I stalk past, I twist Epicurus's busted-ass face to the wall, sick of its shit.

I should throw it out, but I can't seem to do it. It's masochistic as fuck, but I know I deserve it. I should have to look at it every night and every morning until I can win her back.

When I head up to gather everything I need for the barbecue onto a tray, Eleven's paws click over the tile into the kitchen.

"Hey, girl." I set the sauce down and bend to greet her, giving the scruff of her neck a good scratch. "You want some more duck liver? Yeah, 'course you do."

I rise and grab the bag from the cupboard above the fridge, pulling out two pieces of freeze-dried liver for her. She fucking loves the stuff, but I'm careful to only give her a little at a time.

I don't want Ellie to get sick and I'm pretty damn sure Aurora would kill me if she did. I don't need to give her any more reason to hate me.

"Ready, sit—" Before the words are even out of my mouth, Ellie sits, lifts a paw, and rolls over all in record time. She knows the drill. I'll have to teach her a new trick soon, but I hardly see her these days.

I give her the second treat, scratching the top of her head as she inhales it without chewing. "Where's your mom, hmm?"

As I ask it, I hear her coming down the hall and stiffen. Ellie licks my face, giving a little whine because I stopped petting her. "I know, girl," I mutter, giving her one last good scratch as Aurora strides into the kitchen.

I clear my throat and avert my gaze, but not before I've seen the simple black bikini top and light-wash shorts she has unbuttoned and folded over at the waistband. Her hair is a glossy brown so dark it's nearly black, falling in lazy waves over her shoulders and around her face.

Fuck.

She looks good. Too good.

Did she always look this good?

Sev says I'm crazy for thinking it, but I swear she's doing it to torment me. Flaunting her body through the house. Making no secret of what she does in Eli's and Sev's rooms almost every night. Not even trying to be quiet about it.

I turn away before she can catch me staring and choke back a thousand things I want to say when she brushes past me like I'm not even here. Aurora opens the fridge to pull out a container of cut-up fruit and a Gatorade while I step out of her way.

I note how her eyes snag on the steaks and vegetables on the counter, but they don't linger there.

It's still not good enough to tempt her.

Ellie jumps up onto my thighs for another pat, but Aurora calls her away with a stern, "Come, Ellie," as she makes her way to the back door.

Ellie lets out a little bark of protest, pushing her head into my hand.

Aurora turns to look at her, but not at me. Never at me.

"Ellie," she warns, and I give the pup one last good scratch, and lift her paws from my legs to set them back on the floor.

"Go," I tell her, and she makes a little chuffing sound of disappointment before following Aurora outside.

I watch them both vanish down the pathway to the pool deck and turn to roughly scrub my hands under the faucet until it hurts.

She hasn't said it, but I get the feeling she doesn't like me around Ellie anymore, either.

I know that asshole ex of hers was a loose cannon, and I know he hurt Ellie. So I get it. But understanding why doesn't make it sting any less.

As if I'd ever hurt a dog. Especially Ellie.

"Damn," I curse, realizing I've scrubbed so hard I broke open one of the gnarly blisters in my palm.

I hold it under the stream of water to wash it clean with a grimace, but I like the sting.

It reminds me I haven't become the ghost Aurora has made me.

As long as I'm still here, there's a chance I can fix what I broke, and I think I might have an idea.

It could completely backfire.

But I’m out of safe options.