42. Olivia #2
Somehow, I didn’t notice them when I was putting my clothes away on the first day I arrived.
Of course, I was too busy sulking in my despair to notice he had done me a solid favor.
Besides the vibrators, that is. That fucker is still in the doghouse for that move.
But I’ll forgive him. Eventually. Because wearing normal panties that aren’t boxers is the biggest relief that I can’t explain.
I’m finally back in my own skin. I might be wearing another face, but as Claire, I can still be myself for a while, at least. Something I’ll enjoy while it lasts.
Then, when it’s necessary, I’ll put my Oliver mask back on and go undercover as him again.
Because I have to. I’ll have to solve whatever is happening here with Franco and the other gangs.
And the dead bodies piling up. There’s so much here that I can’t leave now.
“Yeah,” I choke out. “This is me for right now.” I swallow the lump in my throat, staring at the fake ID JJ gave me at our study session last night.
“So, shall we?” Simon asks, turning the engine off and bringing me back from the night before.
Oh. His song is done. Right. Time to shop until we drop.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Let’s go.”
A sliver of excitement thrums through me at the prospect of shopping.
It’s something I haven’t been able to do in a very long time.
Not for myself, at least. And nothing like this.
A whole day spent gathering the perfect outfit.
It reminds me a little of my old self. A sliver of the girl who would drag the boys to the mall to find the perfect skirt or shirt after my mom gave me a small amount of money she’d saved up.
Something we didn’t have a lot of back then.
Not with my dad spending it all on the booze he drowned himself in.
“You have no idea how excited I am for this,” Simon chortles the second we get out of the car and head through the main doors of the large mall, filled to the brim with people.
It’s an odd sight to see.
“I see this mall never died,” I blurt without thinking, peeking at the food court we’ve stumbled into.
The tables are full of people eating their lunches and chatting. More people stand in line at the vendors with shopping bags hanging from their arms.
“Nope,” Simon says gleefully. “They have the best stores, too. Let’s go!
” He grabs my arm, dragging me through the food court and into the main part of the mall, chatting a mile a minute.
“We should stop here at Nicole’s.” His grin widens at the massive selection of clothing in the windows. Men’s and women’s.
“Sounds perfect. You’ll tell me if my outfit sucks, right?” I ask, tilting my head.
“Oh, you bet,” Simon chortles, pulling me into the store. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re the hottest person to walk through the Coliseum doors tonight.” He winks at me, and then he snags the men’s section. “But first…” He trails off, slipping away from me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I browse through the women’s clothes, trying to figure out the perfect outfit for tonight. Something that gets Malic’s attention and says, take me home and fuck me good, please.
Will I actually go through with it? That’s a toss-up. Malic was good. Rememberable. God, I crave him after all these weeks. So, yeah. A good dick down. Maybe he’ll fall into a deep sleep, and then I’ll make my escape.
Easy peasy, lemon squeezey. I can totally pull this off. This totally won’t go sideways. Fuck. I swallow hard, mentally going through the damn plan. Simon will be distracted by Daniel, whom I will introduce to myself as Oli’s lookalike cousin. And I will work my magic on Malic. I hope.
Carter: Send me the fucking memory stick at your earliest convenience, Agent fucking Princess.
I roll my eyes toward the ceiling with a huff. This asshole is going to be the death of me one day. But for right now, I unfortunately need his expertise.
Oli: Agent fucking princess again? Jesus… Someone piss in your Cheerios this morning?
Carter: I’m fucking bored. Again. And no. Fuck you.
Oli: Fuck you too
Oli: And the company you’re running? That doesn’t keep you occupied? Surely you have enough business to keep you up at night…
Carter: Eh. It’s fucking boring too. I do have a girlfriend who keeps me up at night, thank you fucking very much.
Oli: Dude. We’ve talked about this. Multiple times. I really don’t need to hear about that. She’s like my sister, remember? FFS.
Carter: Get the fuck over it. Now…tell me about this memory stick you’re sending me again. Anything exciting? Come on, entertain me.
Oli: I need you to make sure everything on it is real. There will be documents, surveillance footage, and all kinds of fun stuff. It’s, um…from my murderous exes trying to prove themselves innocent. So…yeah…it’s kind of important…
Carter: Well. Once again, my fucking interest is piqued. Should I keep grabbing the popcorn? You know what? Fuck it, I will get the popcorn. Your life is way more exciting than mine.
Carter: Actually…scratch that… Let me have a fun chat with the murderous exes, Agent fucking Princess. Let me introduce them to some fun torture devices.
Oli: Tempting…
Oli: And torture devices? Jesus.
Carter: I’m not fucking kidding.
I stop typing momentarily, letting my brain actually go down the path it’s been wanting to take since I talked to JJ and saw the potential truth in his eyes.
Maybe they didn’t do it.
JJ says they didn’t.
I saw the surveillance footage of them at the casino. All three of them. Until Huxley slipped away. Where did he go? Certainly not to the hotel like the other two. Did he come back to finish me off? Did he hop on a private jet and get back to Greenwood in record time?
Damn it. My head hurts trying to sort all this shit out.
Oli: Tempting, but they could be innocent, and those files are the key to it all.
At least, I fucking hope. I want answers so fucking badly. Even if it blows my entire world apart.
Carter: Fucking all right then. Let me figure that shit out. Send it to me.
Oli: I’ll send you the tracking number when it’s on its way. Right now…I’m shopping…
Carter: Shopping? Fuck that. I’m out.
And then, nothing. Per his usual.
I tuck my phone back into my pocket and browse some more clothes, side-eyeing Simon as he has a stack of clothes in his hands for himself. He grins as he makes his way back to me from the other side of the store.
“I’m all sorted,” he quips. “Now, how about you? Why don’t we pick out something amazing for tonight?” Simon grins, like he has something in mind for me.
I raise a brow. “Do you have something in mind?”
Simon doesn’t have to say a damn thing when he grins at me, because of course he does.
“That’s the one!” Simon says with approval.
Finally! I’ve tried on at least a million outfits, and he disapproved of every single one. Now I remember why I stopped shopping in person and started ordering outfits online. I hate trying on outfits. Once upon a time, I loved going to the mall and doing this, but not anymore.
“Jesus, Ol-Claire,” he quickly corrects himself with an apology on the tip of his tongue. “You’re beautiful like that.” Leaning forward, he places his elbows on his knees, lighting up at the sight of me. “I mean, you were beautiful before, but wow…” he says, eyeing me up and down.
“I… Thanks,” I breathe, swallowing hard as I stare at myself in the floor-length mirror. Unease prickles at my skin at how exposed I am in the newest outfit he insisted I wear. This isn’t me. At least, not this version of Olivia. Years ago? Yes. Definitely her.
“Are you sure about this one?” I ask, pulling at the small red crop top that barely covers my tits and definitely doesn’t cover my stomach. “It’s…” So small. Barely covers anything. Or hides me from the world.
I’m way more comfortable in my Oliver disguise than this. Give me a baggy shirt and sweatpants any day of the week to hide myself. But this? I’m out for everyone to see.
“Add the jacket!” Simon says, pointing to the dark black leather jacket he laid out for me.
I eye myself in the mirror again, blowing out a breath before grabbing the leather jacket and putting it on.
Swallowing hard, I take in my appearance, wincing when all my scars are on display for the world to see.
My burns. The cut across my throat. The belt marks on my back from when I was younger.
I don’t usually show people. Not like this.
Not since I got them. I’ve always hidden myself in dark colors that hide every inch of me.
But before?
I was always in bright pinks and purples. Skirts. Dresses. Anything to brighten up my world and theirs.
“I feel naked,” I grumble, running my fingers over my exposed stomach again.
“You look hot,” Simon chuckles, standing beside me now and staring at my reflection, too. “You’ve been hiding a lot underneath your sweatpants and baggy T-shirts,” he says with a reassuring tip of his lips. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers directly into my ear.
He’s not wrong. I’ve been hiding a lot from him.
From the entire world. But for a very, very long time.
I’ve hidden under the identity of Agent Seven, losing myself in my work, so I never had to confront the pain, rage, and regrets nestled in my soul.
I’ve hidden my true self from Simon. From everyone around me.
Even Jordy doesn’t get to see all of me.
“You really think?” I ask softly, eyeing the lacy red crop top wearily as it clings to my body and accentuates my tits perfectly.
“Yeah, you’re like a completely different person. It’s amazing,” he whispers with awe.