Page 108 of Oliver

“Club,” Oliver says heavily, and I glance at him sideways.

What did Oliver have to do to become the fucking bartender?

Mr. Cook covers his face, his shoulders shaking and says, “I thought… maybe I could understand, you know?”

No, I don’t fucking know.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that? She probably ran from a psycho piece of shit like you.”

“Don’t say that,” he growls and a shiver rolls down my spine. Now, I see behind the façade and its fucking horrible.

“Shut the fuck up,” Oliver barks and the old man snivels, however, his theatrics are beyond me now. This man is an alpha predator.

What I don’t understand is why this dude cut off his victim’s head. Was the Lucky Charm killer two people, or is Mr. G in jail for crimes he didn’t commit?

“Penny, go outside,” Oliver says, and I shake my head.

“No way. No fucking way. What are you going to do?”

“What? You want me to let himgo?” he sneers.

“Oliver,” I whisper. I don’t know what I want beyond him not committing murder.

“Playpen, look at me,” he says, and I raise my gaze.

“It’ll be fine. I promise,” he says.

“The police?” I ask, biting my wobbling lip.

He shakes his head and I glance through the door at the girl who had hopes and dreams, a family and I slump.

It’s no use. We’re all damned in the end.

Sliding behind him, I touch his back and say softly, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Oliver

My heart wrenches at her words and I desperately want to call her back, but I can’t leave this fucker alive. Clearly, he’s a monster, to which a tiny voice in my head points out, your father may not be a killer after all.

But why cover up for this fucker? It makes no sense.

As for Mr. Cook, he can try to lie his way free, and maybe it’s a lie he’s telling himself, but insanity should never be defined by killing the innocent.

Once I hear her feet above us, I turn to him and say, “Last chance. Who’s Charming Charlie?”

“My dau—“

It’s the last fucking thought he’ll have because I club him over the head once and again before he slumps to the floor and his blood pools around him.

With a sigh, I move toward the cupboards and grab a container of bleach wipes before wiping down the counters and the doorknobs.

It’s a risk. Penny could have touched anything but I’m hoping the focus will be on the poor dead girl and not who killed her murderer.

Besides, I'm itching to find Penny. Is she horrified by my actions?

When I emerge, she’s gone and my heart drops to my toes. Grimly, I step back onto the dock.

I knew this would happen. I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen. I’m not the man she wants me to be.

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