36. Olivia
Olivia
The moment I step into the stuffy, reserved study room, I want to run back to my dorm and never come out.
Maybe finish the project myself. I have all the materials to do that.
My nerves eat away at me. I can handle a lot.
Investigating gang leaders and corrupt nursing homes?
That’s my specialty. But this? Having to be in the same small room as Mack, interacting with him in close quarters, and finishing this bullshit project together?
It makes me want to run for the hills, hide, and pretend this was never a thing.
Too bad I’m stuck.
Every second I’m locked away in this room, studying with Mack about some poor sap who got his heart torn out and his blood completely drained from him, is a second too long.
Sure, I want to know what happened to poor Ezra.
Nobody deserves to die like that. Not even a simple construction worker with no family to speak of.
But why Mack? Seriously? Why did the universe put him in my path like this?
Couldn’t I have simply been initiated into their gang with ease? That was the damn plan, after all.
But I guess this whole study buddy routine fulfills the purpose of my investigation.
Being close to him and JJ while undercover and trying to befriend them is in the fine print of Jonathan’s tasks for me.
Although Mack isn’t making it easy with his hateful looks and subtle declarations of revenge against me.
He has to know I destroyed the treehouse. He must have seen me walking away from it. But why not confront me then? Why confront me in class in a passive-aggressive way? Ugh. That means only one thing. He has plans to destroy me. Slowly.
Well, that makes my stomach turn even more when I sit in the familiar, third-story study room.
Through the half-glass walls, I can see everything happening around me, which is a whole bunch of nothing.
JJ wasn’t kidding when he said nobody comes to this side of the library.
Except us. And now, Wilder and Mack. I want out of here as quickly as possible so I can get back to my quiet room.
Yesterday, Simon left with Daniel to stay at a hotel and go on a date out of town, which gave me the night to myself.
I walked around practically naked, feeling more relaxed than I have since I got here.
Wade’s still in the hospital, not expected to come back to the dorms until the end of the week.
And Simon? Well, he texted me that he probably won’t come back from his mini vacation for a few days.
I’m glad he can afford to miss class. Me, on the other hand? I’m still in deep shit.
So here I sit at the study table, pulling out the folder our professor gave us and spreading the papers in front of me until they’re all in neat piles. Autopsy photos. Autopsy reports. Ezra’s personal history. Everything.
Picking up a crime scene photo, I cringe, staring at the naked man left for dead in the parking lot behind a building.
Someone threw him away like trash after using him for parts and didn’t give him any dignity in death.
Who would do that in this town? I mean, I have some guesses.
Could Franco have done this? Is he doing it now?
Or are new players throwing their hats into the ring?
“I fucking hate this place,” I mutter, rubbing at my temple and aching for a damn drink I know I shouldn’t consume.
And I won’t. Drinking has done nothing but aid me in hiding my face and sleeping for days on end.
Not to mention losing my damn glasses. It’s tempting, though.
But what good of an agent would I be if I did that?
Not a good one.
I blow out a breath as I run my fingers over the other crime scene photos, trying to find more clues in the pictures.
Not that I haven’t spread them out over the past week and tried to find any sort of direction.
Whoever did this was very thorough in their clean-up efforts.
No DNA was found at the scene. Just Ezra.
The man who seems to be at the center of everything.
I pull out my phone.
Oli: Hey there, pal, how’s it going? Still bored?
I smirk when the dots in our chat immediately start to bounce.
Carter: Pal? Who the fuck you calling pal? I’m not your pal, Princess.
Carter: But I am always bored as fuck…
Oli: Don’t you run a company or something? Don’t you have a girlfriend and other dudes living there? How are you bored?
Carter: Because I fucking am? Did you text me to pester me, or do you have something to unbore me?
Oli: Both?
I chuckle when the dots bounce again and then stop and then start bouncing again.
Carter: Thank fuck. Because your last tasks were boring as fuck.
Can’t track that asshole who put a tracker on you.
That other fuck’s computer is locked up tight.
Even I can’t access it, which shouldn’t be possible.
And that dead chick you sent me? Dead end.
Locations were off, and it’s untraceable.
So…tell me you have something juicy as hell?
Oli: You have such a way with words… But yeah. I need help on a case I’m studying…
Carter: A case? Count me the fuck in. Now say please, asshole.
I roll my eyes.
Oli: Please, asshole?
Carter: Lay it the fuck on me. I’m going stir crazy. Thank fuck for fall break soon… So don’t ask for shit then. We’re leaving town. Maybe going to the beach or some shit to get some sunshine. And fucking. Lots of fucking.
Oli: I swear to fucking God, Carter. I don’t need to know about your sex life. Seriously!
Carter: …well, I won’t be fucking bored then. Sooooo…
Oli: Fine. Deal. I won’t pester you then. I’m working a case for a class that’s suspiciously connected to the other shit happening around town. Ezra Thornton. He was found naked with his heart and blood missing.
Carter: A case for class? Fuck. Whatever. I’ll look into everything and report back… I fucking guess.
Oli: You’re the best.
Carter: That’s fucking right, I am. Now go the fuck away. I’m busy.
I snort, shaking my head. I swear to God, one day Carter will become a valuable asset to Veritas. One day. He’s too busy, though. His girlfriend and her other boyfriends are in college a few hours away, and Carter is currently running the company his mother left to him. CC Tech.
Jonathan knows about him. Hell, he met him when we investigated their old prep school, East Point Prep. Carter was our inside man during the investigation. Something we always have before setting foot into an investigation.
Except this one. That’s my job, now.
Jonathan has no idea Carter’s been helping me for years since me and technology don’t get along. I can get into the basics. Like the Veritas system to look up old files and type up my current missions. Oh, and my emails. Other than that, I’m useless when it comes to computers, despite my degrees.
My gaze snaps at the slightest hint of movement outside the study room.
Mack weaves through the tall bookshelves with a scowl etched deep on his face.
A permanent look for him these days, it seems. My stomach drops at his appearance.
God, I remember the smiles he used to wear.
They were contagious and real, taking up his entire face.
The way they lit him up from the inside out.
Mack was a golden retriever trapped in a man’s body.
I can still hear his laugh in the back of my mind. The old Mack.
This new Mack, though? Something seems to weigh down every inch of him. Like all the worries of the world rest on his shoulders that sit tight at his ears. Tension radiates off him, giving fuck off vibes. Light a match, and he’ll go up in flames, exploding until the entire world burns with him.
As Mack passes the DVDs on the shelf outside the study room, he abruptly stops and gazes at them with a crestfallen expression, as if lost in the titles.
His fingers brush along the spines of the cases until his hand drops at his side.
A heavy breath blows between his chapped lips, and he shakes his wet, shaggy blond hair and seems to come back to himself.
The scowl pulls at his lips again, and he forces his gaze away from the DVDs to the carpet beneath his feet.
For several beats, he waits there. The time ticks away one second at a time until Mack’s chest heaves, and he steps away from the movies on the shelf. His expression holds what seems like a glimpse of grief.
Mack cringes when he takes a single step and runs a free hand down his right leg, muttering something I can’t hear through the thick glass of the study room.
He shakes that away too, limping a few steps until he stops outside the door and pulls it open, storming into the room like a damn hurricane hell-bent on destroying everything in his path.
Mack doesn’t spare me a glance as he limps into the room and plops into the chair opposite me. He sets a heavy backpack beside him with another wince and rifles through it, pulling out a thick folder stuffed with papers of different sizes, and drops it onto the table with a thud.
“I’ve got forty-five minutes to get this shit over with. Then I have more class,” Mack grumbles, wincing as he readjusts in the hard library seat. “Unless you want to give me the evidence folder and let me finish it off.” He raises a brow, looking me over with a hopeful glare.
So very tempting, Macklyn. But that’s a no from me. Who knows what he’ll do to sabotage my involvement in the project? Or Wilder’s. I’m doing this so we all get the grade. Because right now, I really need my grades to go up again.
I snort. “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase teamwork makes the dream work?” I quip back, straightening my papers into piles with a huff. “This is a group project.”