Page 127 of The Catalyst

“He’s all yours,” I say as my gaze switches to the unimaginable fuckwad who stares at us, shock evident on his face, but after a moment, it clears. He turns on his heels, racing for the window leading to the backyard.

The nearly silent bullet fires from Oliver’s gun and hits the dipshit in the spine, and blood instantly soaks his shirt, even before he falls to the ground, screaming.

“She’s nothing but a stupid, worthless cunt!” he hollers in anger and agony as Oliver approaches his fallen form.

“Then, you should’ve kept your hands off of her, right?” Oliver mocks before he kicks the man across the face. His muscles ripple beneath his hoodie, and I watch as he kicks him repeatedly, rage overcoming my crazy man. Blood pools on the floor as I watch Oliver lose control over his anger. The red liquid soaks us both as he keeps going until the man’s face is nothing but brains and blood.

“Oliver,” I mutter, but he doesn’t stop. His powerful kicks move to his chest, but the man is already dead. He can’t feel any of it. It’s just…abusing a corpse at this point.

He doesn’t respond.

“Oliver,” I try again, and still nothing. “Ollie!” I grab his arm and force him around, his eyes nearly black with anger. His fingers wrap around my throat, emotion thick in his eyes as a snarl covers his lips.

He’s so lost. Taking his face in my hands, a tear comes to my eye at how truly broken this man is.

“I’m right here. Look at me,” I whisper from how tight his fingers are around my neck, but they loosen a bit. “It’s me. It’s Beth, okay? He’s gone. He’s dead, but I’m still here.I’mwithyou.”

His eyes become brighter and more colorful as I talk until he releases my throat, pulling me into him.

“You’re with me,” he breathes the words into my ear, and I nod against his chest.

“Yeah. I’m with you. Always.” Then, I place my hand over his heart and feel it slowly calming down. The way the strong muscle rumbles under my hand is so soothing I could fall asleep standing right here.

CHAPTER 49

BETH

Iwanted to bring the girls with us, but Oliver made it clear that we couldn’t. Sooner or later, the bodies would be found, and if the girls weren’t there, there would be a search party. Them coming with us would be a link that could lead to an arrest. They swore they wouldn’t tell anyone about us… Okay, so they said they would only say an angel and a demon saved them, which got a real laugh out of Oliver. He was okay with being referred to as a demon. After what I saw him do to their father, I’m not entirely sure he isn’t one, but if he is a demon, he protects the innocent with his deviant nature. That makes him a good demon in my book.

Before leaving, I used the house phone, dialed nine-one-one, and left it off the receiver.

By now, the cops should be there, and the girls will be okay. Little Dani, Patti, and Rita won’t ever have to live like that or be subjected to someone like their father ever again. They’ll be okay, and that’s the only reason I feel content with them going into the system. Anything is better than what they had to live with.

Oliver doesn’t pull into the driveway. Instead, he goes over the curb and drives up to the backdoor where the street can’t see us. It’s a good idea since we’re both covered in blood. Luckily, it’s not on our faces, but our hands are another story.

“Thank you.”

My head snaps to the side when I realize Oliver has spoken for the first time since we left the house.

“For what?” I ask, confused.

“For…everything. For coming with me, for pulling me back. Just… for everything.”

I get the feeling Oliver doesn’t thank anyone for anything. He likes to stand alone and doesn’t like depending on others, but he leans on me. I’m the grateful one. I’d like to think I saw a part of him that very few people get to see. I’ve never seen him like that before, and I’ve been around for months.

“Thank you for letting me,” I respond with all my heart, and he reaches over the middle console and wraps his fingers around my hand. I lace my fingers through his and squeeze the digits with all the support I have inside me.

“How do you feel?”

I cock a brow at him. “Exhausted.”

A chuckle falls from his lips. “Not generally. I mean from killing Sophie. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m not aware of you ever taking a life.”

I roll my eyes as I rest my head back against the headrest. “I feel nothing. I don’t feel bad or guilty about what I did. I have no remorse. Is that normal?”

His fingers squeeze mine with a rumble from his chest. “For me, that’s normal, but the first one is always hard. It’s like a chip in the brain you have to adjust to, like your morals break to fit with what you’ve done. You can adjust quickly or slowly.”

“Was it like that for you the first time?” I ask, not sure if he’ll even answer. It’s a prying question that could mentally send him down a rabbit hole.

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