49. Olivia #3
“She should also mention that she’s been undercover as Oliver. You know, the boy you beat your meat to every night,” Malic quips. “He is a she and she’s been pretending since the beginning of the semester. It’s like magic.” He wiggles his fingers.
I wrinkle my nose, trying to stop the blush from heating my cheeks. Wilder does what now to Oliver each night? “Can we stay on the subject at hand here? You need my help. Why?” I fold my arms across my chest, watching him as he nods.
“My sister,” he says in a soft voice.
“I need a fucking drink,” Wilder mumbles. “I need… Fuck it.”
I blink several times when Wilder plucks the cigarette from behind his ear, walks to the gas stove, turns it on, and lights the thing.
“Old chap,” Malic says in warning. “Don’t let this be the breaking point. You’re better than that.” He gestures to the cigarette with furrowed brows.
“Y-You knew!” Wilder says, tossing a hand out.
“You… And you…” He points to me accusingly with shaky fingers while holding the burning cigarette between his ring and middle fingers.
“I… Am so fucking confused. You? You’re Oliver?
You’re Olivia? What the fuck?” He slumps down, letting his back slide down the stove, and stares into space.
“Is this a dream? Oliver is my brother’s dead ex-girlfriend and I…
Fuck! You… We…” He squeezes his eyes shut, wildly gesturing to the kitchen island.
“Oh God. I let you suck my dick, and it was amazing,” he moans, holding his head between his hands.
His cigarette continues to burn down, glowing a bright orange, but he doesn’t take a puff of it.
“So amazing and fuck,” he mutters to himself, looking at the ground with a dazed expression.
Well, glad to hear it was amazing.
“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad,” I say gently, trying to reassure him for some reason.
I kind of feel bad for the guy. For me, being in disguise is never about tricking people close to me.
And Wilder was getting there. Underneath it all, he’s a really good dude who took the time to invite me to fight with him.
Hell, he even knocked me out and took care of me.
Wilder has a heart. Malic, on the other hand? I’m not so sure.
“Have no fear, my keeper will be back to his old self once his cigarette burns out and he realizes it’s okay,” Malic sighs. “He’s gone through quite a shock. And you…” He trails off, turning to me with a wide grin.
“What about your sister?” I ask again, having a feeling this will all lead back to the pictures I saw on SlamApp of Meredith.
“Ah, yes. Meredith Monroe. My sister. She was found murdered not too long ago.” Everything about him tightens at the word murder, and he blows out a breath. “I need your help in accessing police reports and surveillance footage.”
“And you think I can do that because?” I lift a brow.
“Because of this.” Malic points to my badge clutched in my hand. “I know you can access anything with that. They won’t think twice. You can waltz into the police station, flash your badge, and they’ll give you whatever you want.” He grins like this is the easiest thing he’s ever done.
“This isn’t Supernatural, Malic. I’m not Sam and Dean. I can’t smooth talk my way into official police records with my pretty smile. Even my tits wouldn’t work. I’d need warrants and shit. Besides, I barely know how to send an email,” I huff. “I can’t get surveillance footage or any of that.”
The only thing I know how to do on my computer is send reports back to Veritas.
That’s it. That’s why I have fucking Carter do my dirty work.
He’s a bored genius trying to entertain himself while his girlfriend and her other boyfriends get their college degrees.
And me? Well, I provide that entertainment for him with my lack of computer skills, I guess.
“But how fun would that be?” Malic grins.
“You. Me. A ’67 Chevy Impala. The open road,” he sighs wistfully.
“We could solve all the murders. Especially here in this town.” He nods a few times like it’s the best idea he’s ever had.
“Unfortunately for us, there’s no such thing as real monsters.
Only humans. And what does Dean Winchester always say?
Right. Demons he gets, but humans he’ll never understand because they’re fucking crazy.
Like me.” He points to himself joyfully.
“Oh, and whoever is depositing organless bodies around town. They’re the real monsters. ”
“I don’t think that’s how the quote goes,” Wilder pipes up, sounding shell-shocked and empty. “Fuck,” he gripes.
“You’ll be fine, lad. Take it easy over there. My little ghost and I are going to have a long discussion on…”
“I think not.” A deep voice echoes through the house, drawing all our eyes to the man standing in the doorway.
“Step the fuck away from her.” Authority springs from his voice and has my back straightening.
His fingers curl into fists, and heavy breaths expand his chest. I swear his wild brown eyes dart around the room until they land on me, and his gaze softens. “You good?”
I can only nod, trying to catch my breath.
Never in my life have I ever seen JJ stand tall with a thunderous expression, promising to kill everyone in the room who wants to hurt me.
Sure, he’s protected me over the years. But this?
This is different. JJ isn’t a scrawny teenager anymore.
He’s a man with muscles and a deadly expression.
“Oh, goody. The other half of your secret has finally shown up,” Malic says with a little clap. “Care for some pancakes, Enemy Number Three?”
“Enemy Number Three?” I mutter, rubbing my temple as a headache starts to form.
I really need a drink or my bed or something far, far away from this damn room.
There’s way too much testosterone floating around in here.
Especially with JJ inching closer and closer toward me, with concern bleeding from every inch of his strained muscles.
He adjusts a backpack on his shoulders with a huff.
“Oh, yes. Well, my number one hater is the fucker who…” Malic trails off with a smirk.