Page 38 of Little Stranger

“Fuck you,” I spit before hanging up.

9

Olivia

“Areyousureyou’reokay, angel?”

I sigh, walking up the grand staircase. “Yeah. Just a rough day. I didn’t mean to worry you.” I’d called him as soon as I hung up on Malachi, in tears, my heart breaking, but when he answered, I froze, not knowing what to say.

I don’t want my dad to be disappointed in me, and as much as I despise Malachi, I don’t want him getting into trouble for manipulating his little sister into doing sexual acts with him.

I sniffle, and he huffs. “You’re lying to me, but we’ll talk when I’m home.”

“Okay,” I whisper. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, angel. Go get some rest. I’ll bring home some takeout for you and your brother.”

My jaw rolls, and I plaster a fake smile on my face. “Thank you.”

He hangs up, and I close my eyes, standing at my door and pressing my forehead to the wood. My heart is sore—is that a thing? I feel like I’ve been cheated on by a long-term boyfriend, or someone punched me right in the gut and ripped my heart out.

When I get into my room, Malachi is sitting on my bed with his back to me, his hood up, flicking his lighter, so my dark room—he’s drawn the curtains—glows.

I freeze in the doorway, standing aside. “Get out,” I grit. “I don’t want to even look at you.”

He turns to face me, but I avert my gaze, refusing to look him in the eye. “Leave, Malachi.” A huff, and I slouch against the door, exhausted from crying. “Whatever we were doing is over. I want you to leave my room, and don’t ever come near me again.”

He’s signing, but I’m not looking at him.

His motorbike boots quickly come towards me, a grip on my chin forcing me to look up at him, but I keep my eyes to the side. I don’t want to see his face or learn what bullshit excuse he’s going to come out with. I want him gone from my life—or at least from my fucking room.

“Can you please leave?” I ask, my voice breaking, cracking in two like my heart. “You hurt me, and I can’t look at you.”

He cups my face between his hands, pressing his forehead to mine, breathing heavily, but I pull back when he tries to kiss me, my hand moving before I can think and slapping him across the face. “Get the fuck out!”

He tries to communicate with his hands again, but I stop him, grabbing his fingers to halt whatever he’s going to say. It’s the worst, most belittling way to treat him, to silence his only way of talking, but I don’t care. He hurt me, and I don’t want to hear his side.

I shove him in the chest and walk to my vanity, grabbing the largest perfume bottle there and throwing it at him, hitting his shoulder. “Leave!”

He shakes his head and comes for me, signing,Let me fucking explain.

“Fuck you,” I seethe, slapping him across the face again when he gets close enough, his cheek red. “I hate you; do you understand that, you fucking freak? I hate you for tricking me. For manipulating me into doing things for you.”

Malachi tries to sign again, but I grip his fingers, twisting them, making him grit his teeth with discomfort, but he doesn’t stop me. It’s like he’s enjoying the pain, the way I’m hitting him, the voice I’m using as I scream at him.

And that dark little voice in my head enjoys it too.

I shove at his chest again and again and again, until he snatches my wrists and pushes me into the wall. His mouth opens, as if he’s trying to say something, his lips shaping, no sound coming from them until he’s whispering, “Ol… Ol… N-N…”

I shake my head and duck under his arm, grabbing the door handle. “Go,” I say sternly. “Just… just go, Malachi. There’s nothing to resolve here.”

We were going to be each other’s firsts,he signs, his eyes searching my face erratically.We were—

I turn away from him and laugh, leaving my bedroom and speed-walking down the hall, shaking my head. “I’m not a fucking virgin, Malachi. I haven’t been since I was sixteen!” I spin around to face him again to see his defeated hands by his sides. “And apparently neither are you!”

I’m not a liar,he signs.Believe me.

“I’ll never believe you again.”

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