CHAPTER FIFTY
Oliver’s clothes were still sitting damp in the washing machine the next morning. They’d been in there for hours, so I had to run another cycle. Before I did, I rummaged through his pockets and found only the pulpy remains of a leaf.
I didn’t know why, but I let it rest in my palm for a few seconds and stared at it. Something about it made me cold.
Oliver got up at his usual time, though he was quieter than normal. He barely touched his breakfast and drank his coffee at the table with his laptop wide open. When I stole a glance at the screen, I saw he was going through his emails. He sent a lot of them to the trash.
“I’ll be going into school today,” he said after I’d cleaned up his plate and tossed out the food. “The summer program has filled up quickly, and the first class is this week. I think I’ll be doing my online lectures from the school from now on.”
“Three-hour lectures from the school?” I feigned a sad sigh. “Aren’t those evening classes, too?”
“From six until nine,” he confirmed. “But I’d rather be in a school space as I do it. It’s an accelerated class, so five weeks in total.”
I continued to sound unhappy. “I understand, Oliver.”
He paused. “I don’t like to leave you for that long, sweetheart.”
In order to play my cards right with this man, I couldn’t be too perfect. I had to slip up. Remind him that my love for him was the cause of it. He lapped that shit up and only tolerated it because it appeared like I worshipped him.
I twisted around from the sink and folded my arms, looking upset. “I hardly get you at all, even when you’re working from home. I haven’t been out of this house with you. You haven’t done anything with me lately, Oliver, even though you promised we’d have a getaway together.”
He nodded, appearing like that understanding husband, but all I saw was the man from last night, staring up at the ceiling. Oliver Black had been in his true form, and it was one of the most disturbing sights I’d ever seen.
“Things came up,” he replied, looking at me now with warm eyes. “I don’t like it, but I have responsibilities as a professor. The school counts on me, and these students need me.”
“Then you’re pulled away for seminars and research.”
“If I had a choice, I’d choose you. This is only temporary, Daisy.”
I turned back to the sink, grumbling, “Whatever you have to do then, Oliver.”
Within moments, I felt him come up behind me. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the back of my head. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you out. I think I have a work dinner coming up next week. I’d love to show you off there.”
I couldn’t give in so fast. I remained stiff, which only made him hug me tighter.
“Come on, Daisy. Let me make it up to you.”
Finally, after several moments, I leaned back into his hard chest and raised my hand, gripping his arm as he held me. I rubbed his skin. “I’d like that.”
I kept my gaze from dropping when my fingers passed over a raised line on his arm.
A fresh cut.
Don’t.
Don’t!
My mind screamed at me to remain silent, and I was not going to ignore it.
Much of the week was quiet for me. Oliver was so distracted, his mind constantly elsewhere. Something was still very wrong. He was out of the house more than he was in it, and when he was here, he seemed flustered and panicked.
Then, one morning, he woke up early and was in the kitchen with me, setting up breakfast.
Neither had ever happened without a reason.
I gave him a delighted smile. “Why are you up so early, Professor?”
“Thought I would give my bride a hand,” he returned, winking at me as he placed the pan on the stovetop. He pulled out the eggs as I chopped the strawberries, feeling guarded.
“So,” he said as he turned on the stove element. “The day I had to run into campus and stay late, what time did you go to bed?”
I paused my chopping to think. I hadn’t fallen asleep that night. For a second, I panicked that he’d seen me awake, but then so what? I could make some excuse about him disturbing my sleep.
Another sick feeling washed over me when I thought about the conversation I’d had with Louise. Had he listened to it? There was a very real possibility that he had. I’d been waiting for him to pounce.
Trying to play it cool, I said calmly, “I went to bed at nine.”
“Ah,” he murmured. “I just missed you then.”
I didn’t know why he was lying, but I rolled with it. My spine was razor straight. I prepared myself for his attack should this be a trap. “I wish you would have woken me up.”
“You were sound asleep, and I felt guilty for not being there for dinner.”
“I understand work got in the way, Oliver.”
He made a humming sound. “I can always rely on you, Daisy.”
My hands were clammy now. These were not compliments I was used to. He was buttering me up, or he was getting ready for the hammer to drop.
“Anyway, something unfortunate happened,” he continued. “I only heard about it last night, but a student’s gone missing.”
I very carefully cut into the fruit now.
This…was not what I expected him to say.
It took effort to keep my voice steady. “Missing?”
“Actually, she’s one of my students. Can you believe it?”
He sounded shocked, and he was a good actor, but Oliver never cared for anyone but himself. The only reason he would care so much about this was if he could somehow make it about him.
He could do it, too. He would find a way to make people pity him for being the professor of a missing student.
But my stomach twisted. I had a feeling there was more to this, and it had nothing to do with my conversation with Louise.
“I’m so sorry,” I forced out. “You must be in a state of shock.”
“I am,” he agreed. “The town has come together to search for her. I think I’m going to join the search party this evening.”
“They would really like that.”
“I invited a detective over to the house this afternoon. I want to help out any way I can.”
“A detective?” Now I really was shocked. “Do you know the student well enough that you can help with the case?”
“I knew her well in the academic sense, and at this point, any information would be useful.”
“I agree.”
I didn’t agree at all.
“I’ll give you space with the detective when he comes around.”
He cleared his throat. “I was hoping you’d be by my side, sweetheart. I might really need your support.”
My brows came together. What the fuck was up with this man? “Really? I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
“He’ll ask routine questions.” He let out a chuckle. “He might even wonder where I was five days ago.”
The realization struck, and the knife slipped into my finger.
I hissed, dropping it onto the board. I quickly spun around. “Paper towel!”
Drops of blood fell to the floor, and Oliver, not knowing where the paper towels were, spun around and grabbed the tea towel hanging from the oven handle. He pressed it against my finger, cursing. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t think it’s deep.”
I couldn’t even feel it yet. I was shaking, but it wasn’t from the cut. I couldn’t look at Oliver. Couldn’t look him in the eye because I understood perfectly what he wanted from me.
An alibi.
Oh, my God. Why was I so surprised?
He’d come home filthy. At two in the damn morning.
Where had he gone?
I was shaking uncontrollably. I felt sick. I felt…discombobulated. I felt relief that I could show my distress for once and pretend it had something to do with the cut on my finger.
Oliver fussed over me, finding a bandage and pressing kisses to my head that made my skin crawl. There was nothing more miserable than pretending to accept tenderness from a monster.
I knew what he was capable of. I had accepted that he might kill me if I ran. I had even suspected I wasn’t the first woman the cabin had watched.
Eyes everywhere.
But I hadn’t thought he would do something to one of his students.
As I stood there, feeling numb, I wondered quietly, “What’s the student’s name?”
He pressed a kiss to the tip of my bandaged finger. “Lucy.”
I watched him closely.
His mask was impenetrable.
I found his gentleness worse than his physical blows to my face and body. It took everything inside me not to let my own mask drop. Beneath it was pure hatred and disgust.
Sometimes those emotions turned inward. Other times, I was grateful there wasn’t another woman in my place. No one deserved to learn how to survive him.
While my freedom was gone, I still found ways to escape inside my mind. My rebellion leaked out of me in strange little ways.
Like being able to watch him now, taking care of me, smiling at him, all the while thinking:
I hate you, Oliver Black. I wish you were dead.
He met my gaze and looked warmly at me. “I think you’ve stopped bleeding.”
I never stopped bleeding.
He just couldn’t see it.