Page 53 of Oliver

Need 4 Speed:Because she had the sickness.

Sweetie:What sickness?

Need 4 Speed:She gave in to the darkness, craved the next thrill.

Sweetie:And the Hunter’s Club?

I receive no response to that but it’s just as well. I have a lot to think about. Suspecting something and having it confirmed by a weirdo are two different things.

My sister dropped into this rabbit hole of darkness because she was curious but emerged a fucking psychopath.

What the actual hell?

After showering, I ignore an incoming text from Sabrina and message Oren.

As her best friend and the asshole who introduced her to this shit, I figure he owes me more than cryptic words and I’m not above threatening to go to the cops. Seemed to work on that Need 4 Speed chick anyway.

We agreed to meet two towns over. Ugh.

I am not looking forward to that but it’s worth it if the little shit has more information.

By the time I retrieve my car from Fight Club and roll up to our meeting place, it’s dusk and the pretty purple and orange hues in the sky steal my breath. For a moment, I just stare, allowing the beauty to coat my darkened soul.

It doesn’t erase the ugly but at least I’ve had a moment of peace before I focus on Oren.

His cloak and dagger behavior is both amusing and terrifying but if he’s scared, I should be terrified.

After grabbing my phone, I exit into the balmy evening air and breathe deep. When was the last time I just enjoyed breathing? I don’t fucking remember.

Oren steps from behind a tree and I pause when I meet his cool stare. Oh ho, he’s not happy to see me. Too bad.

“Oren,” I say, and he grunts.

We stand in awkward silence before he says, “This is it. No more. I tell you what I know, and you leave me the fuck alone.”

At my nod, he takes a deep breath and says, “Dixie was fucking Mr. G.”

When I merely blink, he frowns and says, “The thing is, she was playing with him.”

“Playing how?”

“She was convinced he was into bad shit. I don’t know why but even after she found out more than she bargained for, she wouldn’t stop. It was like a sickness or something.”

My heart sinks at his words. I know where she got the idea, I just don’t know why she pursued it. Was she initially trying to help me? Fuck Dixie.

“What did she find?” I whisper and he grimaces.

“She found one of his…burial sites or whatever.”

Ignoring the tears that build behind my eyes, I say, “Why didn’t she tell someone, the police?”

His sigh parts my hair and when he shrugs, the weary affectation sends a dagger to my heart. “It was too late.”

“I don't understand,” I say but I think I do.

“She wanted more. She wanted to know what it’s like. She wasn’t right.”

“Why didn’t you do something?” I hiss and his brows slam over his eyes.

---