30. Olivia #4
“You had it?” I ask, furrowing my brows. I knew it was missing. But I wasn’t sure where. Everything that’s happened since I dropped it, I didn’t account for JJ taking it from my room. “Why…”
JJ shakes his head. “I was confused. I took it because I thought it might give me some answer about where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing. But I want your trust more than anything, Spitfire. I want you to be able to look me in the eyes and know that everything I’m saying is truthful.”
“A token of good faith?” I ask, running my fingers over the word “Vengeance” shining back at me.
“One of many,” JJ whispers. “Now, I really have to go. Don’t be late, okay?” He gives me a pointed look before spinning around and slowly walking deeper into the woods until he completely disappears between the trees.
I blink several times. “Yeah, sure. See you later,” I huff, rubbing at my aching forehead. Carefully, I secure my knife and hide it away from any other prying eyes.
The fresh air has been nice and all, but I need my bed to recover from this weird as hell day. Once I trudge through the woods alone with my thoughts and make it back to my dorm, I finally breathe a sigh of relief. It feels like this is finally coming together.
As I unlock my bedroom and go inside, I immediately close the door and relock it.
My back hits the wood, and I pause there, squeezing my eyes shut.
The knife in my hand feels heavy, like lead holding me down.
It’s been missing for so long, and I didn’t even look for it.
Maybe I wanted to pretend that my encounter with JJ never happened.
That being back here wasn’t real. But it is.
Taking several deep breaths, I open my eyes and observe my room.
It’s like I left it.
I plop down on the edge of my bed, running my fingers through my hair. Exhaustion from the blood drive and my talk with JJ settles deep into my bones, weighing down every muscle in my body.
No rest for the wicked, though.
I grab the envelope from my pocket and hold it up to examine it. Oliver Davenport. This is it. The moment my case changes and I get into the Syndicate Jonathan has sent me here to infiltrate. JJ came through. He kept his word. And that’s all I can hope for these days.
“Well, here goes nothing,” I mutter, ripping into the envelope.
Oliver Davenport,
You have been selected. Expect to hear from us soon, when you least expect it.
The Franco Syndicate.
I nibble on my bottom lip, nerves taking over. Okay. Good. I got the invitation, but what does it mean when we least expect it?
For the rest of the day, I stay in my room, catching up on case notes for Veritas, hoping they don’t figure out my glasses are MIA.
Another problem for another day, I guess.
As I’m about to get up and leave to meet JJ again for our study session, a voice breaks me out of my concentration.
“Oli!” Simon’s shout rings through the air, and a pounding at my door takes my attention away from my computer.
“Coming!” I shout, shutting my laptop and then opening the door for Simon as he bursts in with a grin exploding across his lips.
“First off, today was amazing. Well, minus the blood and needles.” He fake-shivers, making a face. “But Daniel—” He sighs with a dreamy expression. “I feel like I got to know him better beyond…” He gives me a look and shuts his lips immediately.
“Good!” I grin. “I’m happy for you guys.”
“Anywho! Oli! Did you?” He holds up a ripped envelope with his name on it, beaming with pride.
“I did,” I chuckle, grabbing mine and holding it up.
“Looks like we’re in this together. My dad is going to be so thrilled that I’m making new connections for our business. He’s going to be so fucking proud.” Simon chuckles under his breath, and his shoulders relax.
“And you’re not worried about the initiations anymore?” I raise a brow.
Simon waves a hand. “With you there with me, we’ll fly through them like champions. Now, let me make you a drink, and we can celebrate!” He claps his hands a few times, excitement wafting from him.
“Ugh. Si. No more drinks,” I groan, slowly following him out of my room and into the living room. “I don’t think my stomach or my brain can handle your concoctions right now,” I playfully quip.
Simon snorts. “Fine. No pink drink or alcohol. We’ll have cappuccinos and cookies from Jenni’s Cafe.
My treat.” He doesn’t wait for me to agree as he picks up his phone and puts in an order for delivery.
“And done. We won’t even have to leave. They’ll be here in ten minutes.
” Happily, he makes his way to the couch and sits beside me with a sigh, and we fall into a comfortable silence where our thoughts consume us.
Simon’s phone beeps twice, and his face falls when he looks at the screen. “What…” He trails off in a choked sound. “Oh, my God.”
“What? What happened?” I instantly perk up, watching him fold in on himself.
He throws his phone at me as he wipes his eyes, and I read the short message repeatedly.
Wade: I was attacked, almost kidnapped, and stabbed… I’m in the hospital…