Chapter 8 #2
“We really should get going, Olivia,” Jonathan murmurs, standing at my back.
“Our doctors are ready to examine you further.” The moment he touches my shoulder, I flinch away, looking back at him in disbelief.
“It’s just me,” he whispers, peering through my veil to look me in the eyes.
I nod in response, returning my focus to the funeral being held directly at the cemetery.
Three unremarkable caskets rest above their holes, ready to descend into the dirt and never see the light of day again.
“Espie, Olivia, and Sophia Viotto,” Franco’s voice rings out to the small crowd hovering around him. He stands tall in a tailored suit, more fitting for the casinos than here. His dark eyes scan the crowd, never straying to where we’re hidden. “They were like family.”
“Family my ass,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “He killed me! Them!” My fingers curl into fists, ready to punch that asshole where the sun doesn't shine.
But I’m too weak. Too hurt from the betrayal that is still fresh in my mind. And on my skin. I’m lucky Jonathan let me come here in the first place. I’ve only been out of the hospital for five hours.
“Deep breaths, Liv,” Jonathan murmurs.
“He’s a liar,” I grunt, turning to face him as the funeral continues and Franco spouts his worthless speech. “We were never his family.” Not ever.
His adoptive sons may have been something like family to me less than a week ago, but not now. Not ever again.
“He is a liar,” Jonathan grits out, looking pissed on my behalf.
“A lying cheat who abandons people when they are no longer purposeful to him.” I stare up at him with furrowed brows as he loses himself in his words while glaring holes through Franco’s head like Franco personally affronted him.
“One day, our organization will come down on him and his empire. It’s what he deserves.
” He shakes his head like he’s clearing his thoughts.
“But right now is not the time. It’ll take years of patience and planning. ”
I swallow all the pain I have felt since I was rescued from my death by Jonathan when he pulled me from the flames. Turning on my heels, I force myself to commit this entire scene to memory.
Hux. JJ. Mack. Franco. They’re all standing around, mourning the people they put into the ground with their devious actions.
They’re unforgivable.
My lashes brush my cheeks several times when I finally shake myself out of the memory.
Quickly, I wipe away the rogue tears glistening on my cheeks before Jordy can spot them as he shuffles around behind me, helping me unpack my bedding and pillows.
Not that he’d call me out. He’d hug me within an inch of my life and then make fun of me for it.
But if I’m not careful, I’ll break character, and that can’t happen in these circumstances.
It’s too risky to let anyone know who I am.
Let alone what organization has come to investigate their campus and the people on it.
Jordy plops on my freshly made bed with a sigh, watching Simon from his spot with that look in his eyes.
The–I want to mount him–look. I shiver, nearly puking at the thought.
Gross. Picturing Jordy doing the deed is not on my to-do list. In fact, I think I need some brain bleach to remove that imagery. Forever.
“Don't ruin things with my damn roommate and make him hate me,” I grit out, shoving his shoulder.
“Pish posh.” Jordy waves a hand at me without looking up at me. “Why would anyone hate you because of me?” His head tilts as an easy smile crosses his lips. “I’m innocent.”
I snort, pulling out my new phone and checking the time. I shake my head… “Innocent my ass. Don't you have your own thing to do? Like far away from here?”
“Eager to live the bachelor lifestyle?” he teases, getting to his feet. “Eh. I could hang out for the night. Maybe we can hit up a party or…” He sighs when his phone sounds in his pocket, blaring a siren ringtone, and his head drops back.
“It's Uncle, isn't it?” I give him a knowing smirk. Jonathan knows exactly what Jordy is like. Always dragging his feet and prolonging the inevitable. “I can’t believe you assigned him the siren ringtone.”
“Fucker is obsessed,” he moans with frustration. “Fine. I'm leaving. You know the rules.” His eyebrows shoot up, and he points a finger in my direction.
The rules of assignment. Check-in weekly, if not daily. Send briefs of findings through our secure network. Notify immediately if something has gone wrong. Leave for safety, if necessary.
It's all in a day's work.
“Of course I do.”
Jordy grunts, throwing his arms around me and holding me tightly. “Call if you need me. Even if you don't. I'll miss you, Oli.”
Dramatic asshole.
“Yeah, yeah. I'll miss you too,” I say into his neck. “Now, go.” I pull back, clearing my throat.
“Always eager to get rid of me.” He rolls his eyes and pats my head before turning on his heels and exiting my room.
Of course, the horny bastard doesn't leave my dorm like he’s supposed to. Nope. He stops by Simon's area across the hall just as Simon's roommate exits with a frown, hurrying out the door until it slams behind him.
I plop down onto my bed again, watching as they get closer and closer. I can’t make out their conversation, but Simon blushes twice until Jordy steps back with a cocky smirk—no doubt planning something naughty for the future.
Eventually, Jordy leaves with a shit-eating grin and waving his phone as his last goodbye.
Letting me know he swindled Simon's number from him. Poor Simon. Jordy’s a use them and lose them kind of guy.
He’s always had regular hookups within the Veritas bunker, but that’s the only time he keeps them around.
For now, I put everything I own away. Including my damn vibrators.
Bastard. He really packed all three of them without blinking an eye.
Ugh. Discreetly, I shove them into the back of my underwear drawer.
Or should I say, boxer shorts drawer? And make sure they’re buried deep.
If anyone finds them, then I’m fucking screwed.
Why do you have vibes, Oliver?
I plead the fifth!
I shake my head as the weird scenario plays through my mind and dig deeper into my duffel bag. Who knows what Jordy decided to toss in there? He already packed away my orgasm givers. Why not a spare hand or body part?
So it shouldn’t surprise me that when I reach the bottom of my bag, my fingers glide over smooth wood that forms the shape of a particular knife in a protective sleeve I’ve had stashed in my nightstand at the bunker.
“Jordy,” I hiss to myself, shifting the large hunting knife into view and sighing. Attached to the end of the handle is a friendly handwritten note, written by the devil himself.
‘Just in case you need to murder them.’
Right.
Just in case.
Just in case I need to put a damn knife through their hearts. He’s so thoughtful, isn’t he?
I blow out a breath, peeking over my shoulder. It’s silent in the dorm right now, and I can’t be sure who else is lurking around. So, I have to be careful about having a weapon on campus. Even if it’s for my safety, no one can find it or I’m toast and the mission is up in flames.
Jordy may be a brat, but I know he has good intentions. It could be dangerous for me if anyone finds out I’m not Oliver. Especially if they find out I’m an undercover agent attempting to infiltrate their precious gangs.
With that in mind, I shove the knife under my mattress and settle it so it looks undisturbed.
Hopefully, no one will look there. I’m sure their first guess would be the damn dresser where they would find a different kind of stabby thing.
Whatever. With that taken care of, I claim my desk, setting my Veritas-sanctioned laptop into a drawer.
If anyone found it, they'd think it was a typical laptop.
There's nothing suspicious about it. Only if they opened it, accessed it through my multiple layers of passwords, and happened to know how to open our secure portal, would they be suspicious of me.
Of course, my laptop would immediately send me an alert via my phone in a–burn after reading–type of message the moment it was opened by an unfamiliar face.
As I'm resting on my bed, lost in thought, someone else, presumably my new roommate, walks in with one box in his arms and a scowl on his handsome face.
His large frame looms over me as his squared-jaw tics in annoyance at my presence.
Angrily, he shoves his box on his bed and turns to me, squaring his shoulders.
His light eyes eat away at me, taking me in. His lips curl in disgust. “Stay away from my shit.”
With that, he leaves as quickly as he came. Wonderful. He'll be a peach to room with.
“Yeah, well! Same to you!” I mumble sarcastically to his back as he retreats out of the dorm with another slam of the door.
Cool. Guess my new roommate is a real fucking peach.
AKA, a real jackass.
This will be a wonderful year.