Page 117 of Oliver

Does she know who I am?

“Oliver? What’s going on?” she asks.

“Mom,” he says, and I eye him sideways. Since when does the fucker speak in anything but rude tones?

“Penny is gonna stay here for a couple of days. You don’t mind, do you? Her mom just died and, well…”

He puts on his most pathetic persona, and I mentally shake my head. He’s a fucking mastermind, this one.

Mrs. G thaws in the face of his pleading but she’s right back to cool as a cucumber when she says to me, “Of course. Penny? Come inside.”

For a minute I think Oliver is going to leave me here with her alone and I meet his stare with a narrow-eyed warning that he heeds, inclining his head.

It’s dark inside and the musty smell tickles my nose. I suppose now that Maeve and Mr. G are gone, she’s lonely here. We have that much in common.

Oliver steps in behind me, leading me to the stairs with his hand on my back. We pause at the bottom when Mrs. G says, “Maeve’s bed is clean.”

Oliver nods and I hide my unease behind a small smile which is not returned. In fact, she’s looking me over with a curl to her lip which intensifies when she reaches my eyes.

Yep, this one doesn’t like me. Is it because she knows or something to do with Oliver? Fuck, I hope it’s the latter.

Oliver leads me down the hall to Maeve’s room where I’ve been exactly once. He closes the door behind us and looks around with a frown.

My skin feels itchy, and I’d rather be anywhere but here. This isn’t my space, and it still smells of Maeve’s distinct flowery perfume.

“Oliver?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on?”

Oliver’s sigh does not give me the warm fuzzies and turning away I hide my face while he no doubt explains all the reasons why I’m still fucked.

“I don’t know for sure but it’s not good.”

“Why? What is it? Is it Bone?” I ask and he waves his arm.

“No, it’s not fuckingBone.”

I don’t appreciate his tone of voice and stiffen, rasping, “Thenwhois it? Wait, let me guess, you can’t say.”

“Yes,” he bites out. “How many times do we have to go over this?”

“Until you tell me the whole fucking truth,” I hiss.

“Fine.” He crosses his arms, his nostrils flaring. “After Dixie came to me for help, I failed. Her. You. Fuck. So, when she died, I left. I went looking for whoever it was and now, there’s a club full of hunters who know who I am because of you!”

I flinch and raise my chin, ignoring his cruel smile. “Okay, so, what? It’s my fault?”

“Fuck, I can’t do this right now,” he says, spinning on his heel.

“When? When can you do it?” I shriek.

“Never. Fuck. Don’t you get it? It’s—“

“No,” I say, backing away and sitting down gingerly on the bed.

Never? What the actual fuck? What are we doing? Fucking for funsies until he’s done?

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