Page 115 of Oliver

“Out.”

“Out? He wanted to see me. Where the fuck is he?”

The man looks over my shoulder and I grind my teeth. This is another of the asshole’s foot soldiers. The cloak and dagger shit gets old, especially considering the lengths he’s gone to keep his identity a secret.

Now this? He’s not here? Shit. It’s not like we meet face to face anyway. Call me on the damn phone.

“He’s out. Wait for his call.”

“Yeah, fucking whatever. Tell him I found the bastard and he’s done.”

Dickface doesn’t respond and I stalk back to my vehicle, only to pause when he says, “He left this for you.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to refuse. I’m fucking done with this shit. Yes, I know the rules but considering what he asked of me, I figure the rules can be bent.

I found the fuckers. I did what he asked. I know what he thinks of me but if he thinks I’m cowed by his supposed power, he’s dead wrong.

Grabbing it out of his hand, I peel out with a frustrated growl and wait until I’m several miles down the road before pulling over.

My blood runs cold though when an image of Penny drops into my palm. She’s sleeping in her bed with a small smile on her face. When the fuck was this taken?

On the back, it says two simple words:You’re out.

Laughing in disbelief, I toss the picture aside and pull back onto the road.

Yes, I wanted out but at what cost?

Penny

When Oliver rolls up, I rush out to tell him what we found but stutter to a stop.

His eyes are so cold, I shiver. He looks beyond me to Ramsay and a silent message passes between them before Diem says, “What is it?”

“Someone who’s messed with the wrong fucker.”

“What?” I whisper and Oliver says, “Let’s go.”

“Go? Oliver—“

“Not now, Penny. We have to go,” he barks.

Confused, I turn to Maeve. Her wide eyes meet mine before she says, “I’ll grab your stuff.”

With a nod, I slide into Oliver’s car and stare out the window at the two remaining Sinners and their partners.

Will I ever have that with Oliver? Will we share our thoughts, secrets, desires?

The silence is tense as we traverse the streets. I’m distracted by his weird mood until he makes a left turn away from Ramsay’s home.

“Where are we going?”

“Home,” he says and my jaw drops.

“Like your home, with your mom?” I ask and he nods.

“Are you picking something up?”

Head shake.

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