Page 14 of Little Liar
I’m repeating myself out of desperation, but I don’t care. If they don’t let me do this, I’ll end up in jail or something for murdering any asshole who comes anywhere near Olivia.
This is probably the most I’ve ever conversed with my parents since I was a kid—I’m not even sure they realize.
Huffing, Mom crosses her arms and paces to the window. “When you got your diagnosis, we agreed that we’d keep things the way they’ve always been since adopting you. But if you’re looking at your own sister and thinking about—” She stops andspins to glare at me, grimacing. “You can’t be attracted to her, Malachi. It’s not right.”
I’m not attracted to her,I lie.I want to keep her safe from you.
She barks a laugh. “Unbelievable.”
“This conversation is done. Olivia is sixteen. She’s too young to even discuss this.” Dad turns to his desk while shaking his head. “Give up on this idea of marrying our daughter off to the Melroses. The family may be rich, but the son won’t remain faithful, and he’s a spoiled little prick. We’ll revisit this when she’s finished school and mature enough. And you.” He looks at me. “Stay away from your sister. You’ve already been warned. I do believe that this is you needing to protect her, but it’s gone too far. You will go out with your friends, live your life, go on dates, party, until you’re ready to work with me. That is all you’ll be doing for this family.”
He’d look better dead. So would Mom. I’ll carve their bodies and stack their limbs into a suitcase before setting it on fire.
“Get out, the both of you.”
Mom huffs dramatically and storms out, but I stay put. He sighs when he sees I haven’t moved a muscle. I’ll fight for this. I’ll give up a family, a future he’d hand to me, every single thing the Vize family offers me as their son.
“You have my word that I won’t marry her off at this age, and I respect that you want to protect her, but you need to stay in your lane.” He rubs his face. “Tell me the truth. Between us. How do you see Olivia?”
I want to tell him so badly about how I really feel. Maybe I am sick and he can help me, or maybe he’ll throw me out and I’ll never see her again. I gulp, averting my eyes before signing the biggest lie I’ll ever tell.
She’s my little sister. That’s all.
“Protect her,” he says. “Be her big brother and keep her safe, but that’s all. You can’t and won’t marry her. You’re nearly eighteen—surely you know that’s off the table?”
I look at the rug at my feet. My hands are fisting so tightly, my blunt nails are cutting into my palms.
“Look at me, son,” he demands.
My gaze lifts, and my chest tightens at the way he’s looking at me.
“We’re both going to lose Olivia, so we need to just enjoy her presence while we can. Now, get the hell out of my office and never suggest that again.”
I know, I just fucking know, whatever relationship we had as father and son is gone. He doesn’t trust me. He doesn’t think I’m safe enough for his daughter. I’m not good enough either. Unstable. Unreliable. And one word I’ve heard them using when they didn’t know I could hear—broken.
I’m just the broken and deluded big brother trying to marry the fucking sister he has an unhealthy crush on.
I slam the door on my way out, ripping my cap off and running my hand through my hair as I head to my bedroom. I get to the top of the grand staircase when I hear something crash in Olivia’s room.
When I reach her door, I open it slightly to see her rummaging through all of her things. She’s in her cheerleading outfit, and I know from her naked lips, she’s looking for the lip gloss that’s in my pocket. I didn’t technically steal it, but I like how it smells on her when she accidentally falls asleep beside me during movies, so sometimes, I take the little bottle and sniff it when Olivia isn’t near.
Nothing like the addiction the scent of her hair sparks, but close.
I don’t make myself known as she slams her vanity drawer and looks under her bed—she’s on all fours, ass in the air, and I battlewith myself to focus on the mess she’s made of her room and not how exposed she is under her cheer skirt.
Pulling the lip gloss from my pocket, I knock on the door, and she straightens and turns to me. Her hair whips, and my heart races instantly.
Beautiful.
The more I look at her, the more I realize how doomed I am. I’ve never had any luck—but she’s the rainbow I’ll fucking chase to win something more important than my own life.
I want to kiss her. I want to know what the lip gloss feels like on her lips, to taste it, to make sure no one else in the world gets to know the feeling.
Shit. Why is it getting worse? The need for her.
Mom’s right. It’s wrong, but nothing has ever felt more right than when I’m around her.
Her eyes light up even though she’s frowning. “Why do you have that? Did I leave it in the kitchen again?”
