Page 77 of Little Liar
So, in turn, I do fucking nothing but stand and be a damn shadow.
I’ve been inside Olivia, in every goddamn hole, and I’ve also claimed her with my initials on her body, yet she thinks I’ve got a nice, patient bone in my body for someone who isn’t her?
Has she fucking met me?
“She’s coming now,” Olivia says, nudging me with her shoulder to get my attention. “Remember what I said.”
The girl is fragile and sensitive and I’ve to go easy on her—basically, I’ve to stay silent around her. She probably doesn’t sign, and I don’t like kids, nor do they like me, so it looks like today is going to be a quiet day.
I already asked Olivia ten times this morning why she was upset last night, but instead of giving me an answer, she kissedme and avoided it—my paranoia at this point is close to mass destruction because what the fuck?
Abigail’s words are hanging in my brain like a disease. Xander isn’t giving up. Will he force her? What if he tries to take her?
What will I do if Olivia agrees again, and I lose her?
A whole lot of death, that’s for sure.
“And don’t call me your sister, especially if you’re flirting with me or holding my hand.”
I frown at her.But I’m your brother?
“No, you’re my boyfriend.”
I’m both.
She sighs, her shoulders dropping. “You need to choose, Malachi. Am I your sister or your girlfriend?”
Without hesitation, I sign,Both.
“You’re insufferable.”
My eyes narrow, but before I can argue my ground and demand that she still call me both, a pink, sparkly presence appears in the distance. The young girl waves at us excitedly, looking over her shoulder to say goodbye to her friends before rushing to us. She hugs Olivia then looks at me.
If she even thinks about trying to hug me, I’ll sidestep and watch her fall flat on her face.
“Hi,” she says with a huge grin. “I’m Molly.”
I blink.
Olivia nudges me.
I blink again.
I flatten my lips and tip my head a touch, and it seems to be enough because the energetic teenager goes into a full blown description of her week so far—she’s so fucking dramatic, even with the way she moves her hands as she talks, her tone too enthusiastic as she explains why her friends want her to hang out at some day club for teens, and then shows Olivia a bracelet she made with one of the house workers at the Vize manor.
Drowning her out, I shove my hands into my pockets and fall behind a little as we walk through the park—it’s only a short way to the mall, although both girls complain that their feet hurt ten minutes in.
I end up carrying a pink bag on my back because apparently it’s too heavy for the girl who’s been carrying it all fucking day, and I’m not exactly going to say no to Olivia when she hands it to me.
Molly’s dark hair swings as she turns to me. “You’re way taller than I thought.”
I don’t reply.
What would I even say anyway?Thanks, kid, I got my height from my dead bio-dad?Or do I try some bonding by saying,I heard yours was a dick and left you at home for three days while your addict mother lay dead on the bathroom floor. Want to bond over trauma? I can partially relate.
Instead, I stay silent. Olivia would most likely kick my balls, and I quite like my balls.
Despite the rules thrown at me, I light a cigarette and try to ignore them both while they talk about what Olivia wore to her homecoming dance. I never attended ours. But I did stand outside, waiting for my sister to come out. I was going to ask her to dance with me in the parking lot, just the two of us, but Dad appeared and told me to get in the damn car and took me home.
