Page 74 of Little Liar
My phone buzzes again, and I sigh, glancing down to see a notification that my therapy appointment is this afternoon. Olivia makes me set reminders, multiple alarms, and even has my appointments written all over the whiteboard.
I kind of don’t want to do this therapy stuff, but I know in the long run, it’ll be worth it—it also makes Olivia happy to see me getting help, for telling her that I know I need help. I do. I’m a mess, and I need direction.
Being in prison for eight years has well and truly fucked me up. Some days, I’m okay. On the bad days, I think of how Olivia screwed me over, and then other days, I regret everything and wish I’d never been adopted by the Vize family—but I always banish that thought because then I wouldn’t have met my sister.
I took her home the other night after I calmed her down with my cock—I woke her up and rode us on my bike all the way to the farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. I stripped her so she was naked, set her into the bed, kissed her perfect fucking body until she moaned loud enough to wake the dead, ringing my ears, fucked her, then I cleaned out my pet’s tank while Olivia came back to reality and asked me to bathe with her.
She’s seemed sad the last few days, and it makes me uneasy. But she still kisses me, lets me fuck her, and sends me messages saying she misses me while she’s at work, so the paranoia is just my mind fucking with me.
I can never get enough of her. Sex is everything for us—the missed time, the missed days and nights and orgasms. We missed nearly a decade, but we have time now. The fact she wants me to take her on a date too is ridiculous. What would be the point? I get it, I really do, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to start serenading her, treating her like a princess, then acting like I don’t want to fuck her into a coma every second of every day.
I’m not a romantic guy. I can’t do all this soft bullshit. I can barely make love to Olivia without it turning rough because it’s all I know—my life has been driven by anger since I was a kid. Being with Olivia is the only time my mind is kind to me.
With her, the voices fuck off. She smiles at me, and for fuck’s sake, what else could I want? There’s nothing wrong with us. We’re active. Really active. Kissing turns sexual. Cuddling gets me hard. Even seeing her blush at me makes me want to stuff my cock into her mouth until her eyes are filled with tears.
How the hell am I supposed to take her on a date and pretend none of that stuff happens?
“You could be a little more discreet,” comes a voice to my left.
My already shitty mood sours.
I glance up to see Olivia’s friend Abigail. She still has colorful hair, and her eyeliner is a little atrocious. How the fuck she’s been friends with my girl since they were young still baffles me to this day.
I ignore her.
She crosses her arms, leans against the wall beside me, and pulls out a cigarette. “I’m guessing the reason for her short replies and not answering my calls is because of you. You can’t take my friend from me.”
Looking up at her once more, I calculate how long it will take before my silence makes her uncomfortable. She’s never spoken to me before. Ever.
Annoyingly, she doesn’t fuck off. She takes a draw of her cigarette and blows a cloud above her head. “You don’t want her getting married to that jackass, and neither do I. Xander isn’t backing down. Him and his father have made that perfectly clear. Please keep this between the two of us.”
I want to question her, but I can’t. I only feel comfortable talking in front of Olivia. Other than my therapist, she’s the only person in the world who will ever hear my voice. I won’t let Abigail hear me, and she doesn’t know sign language, so all I can do is stare at her.
She huffs, steps on her finished cigarette, and pops her hip out.
Does Olivia know this? That Xander isn’t backing down? Is that why I’ve to keep it to myself—because Olivia doesn’t want me to know?
Or maybe Olivia doesn’t know yet.
Wait. How would this dipshit even know?
“If Xander gets Olivia, we’ll never see her again.”
I know that. I don’t need the reminder that the only person I’m struggling to keep her from is looming around the corner, waiting to ruin my life.
“If you plan on removing Xander from the equation, make sure you deal with his brother too. He’ll become more of a problem. Their father is the one who controls them both though. But he’ll be impossible to reach.”
I’m at a loss as to why she’s standing here conversing with me like we know each other. Or why she’s telling me shit I’m not aware of.
“I’ll never understand you and Olivia. I always knew there was something going on—Mason told me. And you couldn’t have made it more obvious you were in love with your sister, and she was just as obsessed with you. If you break her heart, I’ll kick you so hard in the balls, you’ll never walk properly again.”
And then she strides across the street, smiles at my mom as she leaves the cafe, and they both walk back to the courthouse to meet with my sister.
I’m confused and pissed off.
Did she just fucking threaten me?
I watch them walk around the corner, waiting a few moments before I follow. Keeping my cap low, and staying out of their line of sight, I tail them all the way to the courthouse.
