Page 27 of Oliver

The douche knows who I am. Why bother with the fucking antics?

“Hm.” He raises a brow but makes no move to allow me entrance and crossing my arms, I rasp through my aching throat, “Is Oliver here?”

Before Ramsay can speak, Oliver looms over his shoulder, his cool green eyes meeting mine.

Ramsay inclines his head and steps back, but I see the glint of curiosity. He can wait though. He’ll know soon enough. Everyone will.

Oliver turns to Ramsay, and I assume they come to an agreement because Ramsay shuts the door.

Once it’s closed, Oliver says, “What are you doing here, little one?”

Gritting my teeth, I say softly, “Tell me, Oliver. Tell me why you sent Hailey to attack me at Fight Club.”

When he stiffens, I smile as he says, “This again? Fuck, play—“

“No,” I say, slashing my hand through the air. “Do not call me that.”

His brows slam over his eyes and he spits, “I didn’t fucking do it.”

“Then who did?” I rasp and he sighs his displeasure.

“I don’t know, my fucking father. Shit, Penny.”

“Oh…your father? Hm,” I say, my throat thick with tears. “Here’s the deal. Your father, who confessed to being theLucky Charm killer, denied killing Dixie.”

“What?” Oliver’s eyes narrow and he frowns, searching my gaze. “How do you—“

Poking him in the chest, I then run my fingers down the smooth pecs, my fingers tingling, as I whisper, “I forgave you. I lost myself in you and you really did it. You killed my fucking sister.”

“What?” he rasps, grabbing my hand.

“That’s right,” I sneer, wrenching in his grip but he doesn’t let up, so I lean in until our lips are a breath apart and whisper, “Daddy Lucky Charm saidyoudid it.”

“What…?” He drops my arm and pushes me away, his brows over his eyes. Laughing, I throw my arms out and he flinches as I scream, “You took everything from me.”

“Penny—”

“No,” I sob, backing away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“You really think I would…You do,” he says, his mouth curling into a cold smile while his pale green eyes adopt the void I’ve grown used to.

Is he the good guy or the villain? I guess time will tell because the truth always comes to light, no matter the dirt you try to bury it under.

Either way, I can’t be here any longer and I feel foolish for coming at all. I don’t have the strength to spar off against this asshole.

Oliver

His mouth curls into a frown and I smile, not because this is amusing but that he thought I was someone else. Who?

The heavy bars close behind me with a clang but I’m immune as I approach the table my father is already sitting at. It’s no surprise that this is what it’s come to. At least not for me, the fucker probably thought he’d get away with it though.

The old man gazes back at me with cool green eyes the same hue as mine. He too is unmoved by this situation, and I wonder if he knew I would come.

What’s his fucking game?

Making a mental note to watch this fucking place and his visitors, I slide onto the metal stool across from him and place my hands on the table.

The thing with my dad is that he’s very observant. If you have a tell, he will find it. It’s how he knew I stole fifty bucks from his sock drawer when I was twelve. Or the time I left the hose running and it flooded our backyard.

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