16 - Olive
O utside the sun is bright and confusing. Add in the fact that I’m new here, there are strange people everywhere, and the barking dogs are making noise akin to a deafening thunderstorm, and it’s more than confusing, it’s disorienting. My vision blurs, my body swaying a little like the earth is moving under my feet, and for a moment I think I might fall over.
“Get a hold of yourself, Olive,” I whisper. “Snap the fuck out of it.”
Behind me the kennel door slams and I turn around real quick to find Shep leaving the building leading a young dog.
Seeing me, he shakes his head and accusingly points his finger in my direction. “Stay away from me.” Then he leads the dog down the driveway where all the activity is.
I’m just letting out a breath when the kennel door slams closed again. This time, when I look around, I see Amon.
I don’t know Amon. Of course, I remember him. Everyone in Disciple—even when I was only eight years old—knew who Amon Parrish was. He was the bad kid. I’m like a hundred percent sure my father actually used those exact words to describe him. “ Stay away from him, Olive. He’s a bad kid .”
Amon and Collin were never friends growing up. But they joined the Marines together and I was told that Jim Bob Baptist made sure they were pulled aside for the black-ops shit the moment they got off the bus for basic.
Amon did dogs, which obviously bit him pretty hard because this compound is crawling with them. And Collin learned to run spies. But that’s not what he’s known for now. He’s known, in my world, for killing people. And his team—he always had a team—is there to make sure the kill shot happens.
He’s an assassin. I doubt he planned it. In fact, I know he didn’t. Collin was all about rock and roll and football when I was little. That ancient piece-of-shit Jeep of his with the big tires and Jim Morrison. That’s what I remember about Collin. We’d go to his games on Friday nights and watch. And Lowyn would be there cheering him on in her cute uniform and pompoms.
He was… quintessentially all-American.
Until New Year’s Eve of his senior year when my biological father came down from Blackberry Hill and tried to steal me out of my bed.
That’s when Assassin Collin showed up. It literally happened before my eyes.
In fact, I’m the only person alive who saw his face that night because the person he was aiming at got his brains splattered all over me.
Collin was angry. I don’t think I’d ever seen him so angry. But there was something else about his eyes that night too. Something off . It was… an emptiness. They were void of things like mercy and compassion. But emptiness doesn’t stay that way long, so I was looking right at him when that space filled back up with ruthless abandon.
When I was sixteen, the CORE OPS people took me into an interrogation room and they showed me pictures of him. He was… I dunno. Twenty-four or twenty-five, maybe? And the first thing I thought was, my God, my brother is handsome . But a moment later they were sliding more across that table at me. Only this time, they wanted to show me what he had been up to over the years.
OPS stands for Operative Preparation Services. That’s who raised me after my father went crazy over Collin leaving and we had to leave Disciple. They were faceless people. Nameless people. Like, literally. They wore veils. They were all women and none of them were nice. We had to call them by their departmental number. OPS-94 was the one I saw the most. She was my official caseworker. She was the one pushing photos of dead men across the table at me.
Wow. That seems like a very long time ago. And I guess when you’re twenty, four years is a long time ago. One-fifth of my life.
I blink and the memories fade along with the dizziness and disorientation. Amon is texting someone. Probably Collin. He finishes up, looks at me, and nods his head.
When I look over my shoulder, Collin is coming down the driveway at a pretty good clip, his eyes lit up like a New Year’s Eve sparkler.
He starts making hand signals or something, and the next thing I know, Amon is running past me. I watch as he approaches Shep and point to a building across the driveway. Shep looks at it, then shifts his gaze to me. And even from here, which has to be fifty yards away, I can see his anger.
Which makes me sigh. Because while it wasn’t my intention to get him in trouble, what else was gonna happen when I showed up here?
Of course Collin was gonna find out. So I don’t even bother glaring back.
“Olive,” Collin yells, still pretty far down the driveway, so everyone looks, of course. “Let’s go.” He points to the same building, which I now realize is a church, of all things.
I consider what kind of scene I would make if I ignored him and just walked back to his house and went inside, but I don’t bother. Whatever is coming next is inevitable.
Will I tell him everything?
I don’t know. I don’t understand what is happening to me. Did Brose abandon me? Did he really move all his shit out and leave? I mean, obviously he did because I woke up alone inside an empty estate with a bricked-up staircase that didn’t lead to the basement train tunnel.
But why? I get that I told Shep more than I should’ve that day on the stairs, but he’s CORE. It’s not like most of that was a secret. That small mistake doesn’t justify Brose turning his back on me after two years of My mission is you and your mission is me .
It just doesn’t.
“ Olive ,” Collin yells again, this time much sharper.
“I’m coming,” I mutter. Shep and Amon reach the church first and disappear inside. Then Collin. He opens the door and waits for me, letting me go in first.
It’s dark inside because all the windows in here have been bricked up. While it’s still a church from the outside, the inside appears to be some kind of meeting room. There are several whiteboards pushed against the walls and lots of tables and chairs.
Amon and Shep aren’t sitting down, so Collin and I just walk over and join them.
Collin gets the party started. “What the hell is going on between you two?”
Shep looks at me, but he’s talking to Collin. “I have no idea. I met her in a bar. We saw each other two times?—”
“Three,” I say.
“Three times and that’s it. I didn’t even know who she was until last Sunday. And even when she told me, I didn’t believe her. But I did walk away and make it very clear that I was not interested.”
“That’s funny,” Amon scoffs. “Because I just caught the two of you feeling each other up in the kennel.”
“So what?” I say. “So what if we were?” I look at Collin. Right at him. Straight into those beautifully weird eyes of his. “We’re grown-ups, Collin. You don’t get a say in my personal life.”
Collin shrugs. “That’s fair, I guess. I don’t even know you, Olive. Which is kinda bothering me right now. Not because I missed out on your childhood, but because I let you inside my compound even though you showed up here in rather mysterious circumstances. It sounds bad when I say it out loud, but what’s worse than that is the fact that the very first thing you do when you get here is start something up with one of my men. Did you follow him into the kennel after Lowyn and I left the house?”
“So what?”
“That’s a yes, I guess? Fine. You did. What is your purpose here? And don’t say it’s me, because it’s not, Olive. What does Ean Shephard have that you need?”
“I just… like him.”
“You don’t even know me, Olive.” When Shep says this, my heart cracks a little. Because I was truly trying to take all the blame here even though it’s not entirely my fault. He was the one who got excited in the kennel. He was practically daring me to grope him. So I feel like he should fall on his knife just a teeny, tiny bit the way I fell on mine to show some appreciation.
But what does he do? Blame me.
Still, it’s a losing fight. So I’m just gonna give in. “Fine. I’m a terrible person or whatever. I’ll grab my pack and get out of your hair.” Then I turn to leave.
“And go where?” Collin calls out after me.
“Like you care.” I don’t look at him when I answer, just walk out the door.
It’s a childish thing to say, really. But ya know what? The last time I saw Collin I was a child and I just feel like… I dunno. Angry, I guess. That he missed it. So… he deserves a childish answer to make up for it.
Which makes me roll my eyes at myself as I walk down the long driveway towards Collin’s house.
There’s a black dog sitting on Collin’s porch that wasn’t there earlier. It stares at me as I approach, so I hesitate at the bottom step, wondering if it might attack me.
Possible, but not probable. There are lots of dogs here and they all seem to be up-and-coming tactical K9s. Collin would not leave a loose dog on his porch if it was prone to attack without orders, so I go up the steps without looking at it again and go inside.
It’s quiet and the light is dim because all the windows have those fancy wooden shutters on them and they’re closed, but I don’t mind the darkness.
I go to the guest room and sit on the bed. It was stupid to throw a tantrum the way I did. To threaten Collin with leaving. I mean, why would he care? We haven’t talked in ages. If I had bumped into him on the street, I’m a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t even have recognized me.
I’m still unsure what my next move is, so I don’t get up and leave. I guess I could hitchhike into Bishop and try and catch a ride back to Charleston on the tour bus. I’m definitely not gonna try that in Disciple. The last thing I need is someone from there to recognize me.
Actually, it would be even worse if they didn’t. And I suspect that’s what I’m really afraid of. That I’d walk into Disciple, West Virginia, and not a single person would know my face.
Bishop isn’t a great plan either, but at least I won’t have to look at grown-up versions of my childhood friends when I walk right past them and they don’t even look twice.
The front door opens and closes and I stiffen, readying myself for my next fight with Collin. I turn my head towards the open bedroom door as heavy footsteps make their way down the hallway. He stops just short of my door, staying out of sight. But he’s casting a light shadow on the hardwood floor, so I know he’s there.
“You might as well just come in,” I say. “Obviously you’re here for me.”
To my surprise, it’s not Collin who takes those final few steps and looms in the doorway.
It’s Shep.
“What do you want?” I sneer.
“Collin wanted me to come talk to you.”
“Why would he want that?”
“Because… this is between us, right? You like me. You came here for me. Well,”—he throws up his hands—“here I am.”
I turn my head away and look at the window. This one has curtains, not shutters, so I can see outside. It’s just trees, though. Since this house kinda bumps up against the woods.
“Can I sit?” Shep asks.
I don’t answer or look at him, just shrug. So he sits, making the mattress dip on his side, which in turn forces me to scoot over and adjust my position. So now I do look at him. “Look,” I say. “Sorry I came here and ruined things for you. I’m leaving, so it’s over now.”
“Can I ask you something?” is all he says back to that.
“I guess.”
“What was goin’ on back there in the kennel? And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I got rough with you and then I put my hand on your throat and you…”
I shoot him a contemptuous look, waiting for his word choice.
“You… like it.”
“So?”
“Olive, I… don’t even know where to start this conversation, and…” But he stops. And I watch him carefully here, almost able to see the calculating moves happening inside his head in real time.
“And what?” I prod. Because while I can see that he’s reevaluating things, I have no idea what options he’s weighing. And I’m kind of dying to know.
But instead of answering me, he moves closer. Repositioning his body. And then he’s slowly raising his hand. His palm is flat and facing me, but as it comes up to my neck, it curves into a loose fist.
He’s gonna do it. He’s gonna put his hand?—
And then it’s there. Pressing against my throat. Without hesitation, my eyes close and a moan comes out of my mouth.
The next thing I know, he’s kissing me. And it’s just like it was before. Ravenous and filled with an almost uncontrollable lust.
I don’t kiss him back this time. No. This time I start whispering, “Do it. Do it, please . Just a little bit, OK? I can take it. Just a little tighter. Please .”
When he grants my request and his fingers tighten around my throat, I nearly come apart. The moans coming out of my mouth are low and erotic. If I was able to articulate coherent thoughts in this moment, I’d have the good sense to be embarrassed.
But I’m not embarrassed. In fact, I’m rather bold. Because I twist on the bed, facing him. And then I press my hand up against his just to make sure it doesn’t slip out of position and I climb into his lap.
“Wait,” he says.
But fuck that. No. I’m not waiting. So I hush those words with my mouth on his, while at the same time I reach down and press the heel of my palm into his rock-hard cock. Even through his jeans I can tell it’s long and thick and I want it. So I slip my fingertips back where they were before Amon interrupted us and pop the button of his pants. Then I drag the zipper down, shove my hand inside, and grab his cock with a greedy fist.
His reciprocal moan is a signal that this will happen. And the next thing I know, he’s pressing that hand against my neck with more force.
“Yes,” I say, allowing myself to fully enjoy the feeling. “Yes. More .” But he doesn’t increase the pressure, and this frustrates me, so I ask again. “More. Just a little bit.” This asking becomes begging almost immediately. But he’s hesitating. Any more pressure and he’ll cut off the blood flow to my brain.
But that’s what I want. I want the dizziness. I want the fade to black. I want the complete surrender of my body to this man. And then I want to wake up blinking at his face hovering over mine as he fucks me .
I want to feel the weight of his body and hear his ragged breathing as I gaze up into his eyes and see his lust .
“Do it,” I say again. “Just, please, do it.”
He doesn’t hesitate this time. The pressure increases dramatically and the dizziness takes over.
I feel my body going loose. My muscles unable to work.
And then I get it.
Finally, I get it.
The fade.
The black.
And I come.