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She skips past me, dropping onto the couch. She's put more space between us, but that's nothing I can't fix. I intend to fix it, in fact.
As the movie begins to play, she sighs a sound of pleasure I feel in my dick. “I love this movie.” She turns to flash me a smile that I feel in my chest. What the hell? “I love the way they fall for each other, thinking that they're playing each other. It's great.”
She’s giddy with excitement, and so damn innocent.
Or maybe she knows exactly the game she's playing, and she's even better at it than her sister was. I can't tell. But I know I want to play her.
I want to find the fault in her game and ruin her.
“Have you heard from your family?” My question turns her body to ice, and she grips the blanket in her lap tightly. Her knuckles turn white and a small shudder rolls through her body.
I take that as a yes but wait for confirmation.
It takes a moment, but she gives it to me. “I have.”
“And?”
“And they're not happy.”
“You gonna tell me about it?” I press, shifting closer. Her breath hitches. Her eyes lift to mine, and there's distrust there. I don't like it, even though I know I deserve it.
“Do you want to know?”
I dip my head in the affirmative. “Of course, I want to know.”
“Well,” she starts, uncomfortable. “Remira is fuming, as suspected. She's demanded that I come home. I've ignored her.” Her pale cheeks turn red. “Actually, I blocked her. I've blocked them all.”
“You’ve blocked them all?”
“That’s right.” She gives me a firm nod.
“Who all have you heard from?” She can’t miss the dark pitch to my tone as I wait for her answer.
“Remira.” I don’t miss that she never calls Remira, Mom. “Ophelia.” I flinch at the name, my lip curling. “Darius.” Unpleasant jealousy heats my blood, but she continues before it can fester. “And when everyone else failed, Dad called me. But I didn’t answer.”
I feel my eyebrows dip. I don't like knowing that my brother has called her. Clearly, that jealousy festered even though I’d been foolishly hopeful it wouldn’t.
“What did Darius have to say?”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down hard. I think for a moment that she’s not going to tell me.
“Olympia.” Her name is a sharp warning that has those blue eyes darting to me. The flash of fear I see pisses me off. I’m not sure why. “Tell me what he said.”
She shakes her head like she's going to deny me. But instead, she holds my eyes with challenge in her own. “He told me he would come and get me. That I don't get to leave him. Not for anyone. Not even for you.” I open my lips to say—I’m not even sure what, when she continues, “If you don’t believe me, the messages are on my phone. The passcode is one, three, three, two. I’ve also saved the voicemails, so you can listen to those, too. My phone is on the counter. I’m going to bed.” She stands, starting to move away from me when I catch her wrist in my hand.
It's so small, my fingers overlap where they connect. Her eyes flare as they hit mine, and I hear myself saying low, “I believe you.”
Her lip trembles. Her eyes shift to the side, and she pulls in a breath that shakes the foundation of my very soul.
I tug on her wrist. “Stay.” When she doesn’t agree, I find myself whispering, “Please.”
eleven
Olympia
He said please.
I lower to the couch beside him, unsure what kind of game he's playing. He must be playing a game, because if I've learned anything about Tav in the week that I've lived with him, it’s that he avoids spending time with me. He doesn't want me anywhere near him. Ever.
