Page 60 of Oliver

“I don’t know. All I know is she didn’t fucking listen. That asshole was grooming her, Penny. Fuck! Do you know how hard it was for me to…”

Now it’s his turn to get up, his face a storm cloud of annoyance. He grabs his pants and pulls them on quickly, but I refuse to apologize. This isn’t my fault.

When his shirt is over his head, he says, “I should go. The guys are waiting.”

“How do you know?” I ask, bewildered. Are they fucking linked psychically?

“They texted while you were asleep.”

Oh. Duh.

Painfully I watch him back away in his head, and this after the incredibly intimate moment we just shared, where he exposed a part of him, I've never seen before.

When he moves for the door without another word, I stand saying his name plaintively, “Oliver.”

He stiffens, turning toward me with a blank expression, and my stomach falls. I’m standing before him half naked and even though his eyes flare as he looks me over, the void is back.

With a sinking heart I say, “I’m sorry.”

It’s lame and doesn’t cover much, besides he owes me the damn apology, but I want the other Oliver back. The one who soothed me and took me to heights I’ll never forget with an expression that belies the blankness I normally see behind his eyes.

Giving me a curt nod, something painful crosses his expression before he turns back for the door. At his stone-cold retreat, I bow my head, feeling defeated but he surprises me, when he tips my chin up and kisses me sweetly on the lips.

Nothing more is said before he’s gone again and I glance around the room before getting dressed, refusing to analyze the pulse of hope that beats in my chest, for fear this is just another game.

Oliver

From the curb, I pause and turn back to her house. Penny’s wobbly fucking lip after I kissed her and walked away sears my vision.

How the fuck do I keep ending up back here? She wanted the truth, and I was going to tell her, or at least the parts she needed to know. Instead, I fucked her again, leaving me with this weird ass feeling in my chest that I can’t fucking stand.

The greater part of me wants to go back inside and do it all over again. Instead, I get in my car and drive away. If I don’t pull my head out of my ass and soon, everything I’ve done will be for nothing. I can’t accept that, I won’t.

I know what I have to do, and I will fucking do it.

To my surprise, after driving mindlessly, I find myself idling in front of a new home. This one contains the lives and lies of a family bent for destruction. Somewhere beyond that door, painted a vivid red because she loves the color, is my mom.

There’s a single light on in the bedroom and I look away, clenching my jaw.

The right thing to do would be to go in and check on her but I have zero desire to see her and potentially hear her truths. It’s hard enough to believe Maeve’s story and living with my mom’s denial of Dad’s peccadilloes was bad enough.

Did she know about his murdering ways? Did she ignore that too?

The light blinks out above and with a sigh, I pull away. I thought with my dad behind bars it would all go away but if he’s telling the truth about Dixie then there’s still someone out there. The question is—who?

Chapter 19

Penny

While Ramsay still waits for me to send over the messages, I text Bone. He’s as reluctant to meet with me as Oren was but hey, my give a shit is busted.

I roll up to his apartment an hour later and wrinkle my nose as I pass between the partiers sprawled around me. I’m pretty sure he's breaking some sort of code with the capacity, but something tells me he doesn’t care as he leads me back to his room and closes the door.

The sweet scent of weed assails my nostrils and I curl my lip when he offers me a joint.

His eyes are spacy, and I silently sigh before saying, “No more games. I want to know what you know.”

Nodding, he collapses to a chair and runs his hands through his hair.

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