Page 49 of Oliver

“I don't know,” I grit through my teeth. “Maybe your piece of shit father had something to do with it.

Oliver tsks and shakes his head. “Try again.”

“I don't know,” I bark. “You tell me.”

Cocking his head, he studies me like a fucking rat in a cage. Something flickers behind his eyes.

“Um,” Rain says but Cyn grabs her hand, and she subsides.

What does this fucker want from me? My soul? Damn.

“Why did she fuck my father, Penny?” he says.

“I don’t know.”

“Try again.”

“I don’t—“

“Why?”

“I…me,” I mumble, and tears fill my eyes.

How the fuck does he know? Shit. I’ve been lying to myself. No one knew I told her. No one.

“She told you,” I whisper. Is this why he fucked her? For answers?

I collapse to the couch and cover my face. Right now, I’m battling the mother of all shame, again because I led my sister down a path that killed her, while my heart shrivels at the notion that Oliver shut her down the same as me.

“Let’s go,” he says gruffly, and I laugh.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“No, you’re going to stay here? With them? Bastion’s father was Hunter, little one. Iris’ uncle hunted little girls and trapped them in holes.”

It’s deathly silent as I look around. Iris smiles with all her teeth before Rain sighs and says, “Yes, they were assholes but they’re dead, now.”

“When?” I ask and Rain frowns.

“When did they die?” I clarify.

“Almost a year now, or more,” she says with a shrug.

So, neither killed Dixie. Of course, that would have been too easy. With a sigh, I rise and approach Oliver. At this point, I'll do anything to get back to my car and home. I need to lick my wounds.

“Penny?’ Iris says and I pause in the door. Oliver stiffens before me, and I suppress a grim smile. He wants me out of here. Why?

“Yeah?”

“The Hunter’s Club will never die. Men come and go all the time. Trying to find the one who killed your sister, is like searching for a needle in a haystack.”

Bowing my head, I consider her words before shrugging. “Maybe so. But I can’t give up. I won’t.”

“You’ll die trying,” she says.

Shaking my head, I mumble, “I might as well be dead already.”

Oliver

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