Page 4 of The Unravelings

I’m a failure. I couldn’t handle the most important job of my career. I couldn’t take the heat. I shake my head, trying to remind myself that I’m good at my job. Failures happen. Everyday. But I’m not used to it. I’ve never truly failed at one of my missions.

So, why this one? Why did I have to come here?

“Spitfire,” he croaks, reaching for me, but thinks better of it when I home in on his hand hanging in the air. He hastily drops it to his side. “Spitfire, please. This is killing me,” he gasps out, tapping his chest several times. “You’re alive. I…I went to your funeral. I…I want to understand, please,” he begs with shaky knees and folding his hands together.

“Don’t touch me,” I hiss, frantically stepping back from him with trembling legs. I’m almost at the limit of how much more I can take, which isn’t a lot. “You have no right. Not after you killed me!” I grit out through clenched teeth, taking another step toward the door and trying to sneak around him without him blocking my only escape.

He reaches for me, and his eyes widen at my accusation. Complete devastation washes over every inch of his body, and he sags, staggering back a step, and clutching his chest directly over his heart. His lips flap open and closed several times, and a ghostly white steals the color from his sun-kissed skin.

I don’t give him a chance to say another word or try to grab me. Or convince me that I’m wrong. I bolt out the door, past Simon, who furrows his brows and gets up quickly with our early lunch laid out on the coffee table.

“Family emergency,” I say, taking off out the dorm door, not giving anyone a chance to respond.

Panic consumes me when I quickly escape down the steps and take the back exit out of the dorm building that no one seems to use. Dread sits heavy in my gut when voices from the front of the building echo through campus, almost stopping me in my tracks. They’re low. Almost sounding pained. Fuck. Right. Dane’s memorial service is today and is happening outside the front of the dorm building. It’s something Simon and I were going to attend after we had lunch and got dressed.

Shit.

Nerves eat away at me the further I get from campus. Could he be following me? I peer over my shoulder, noting the empty spaces around me. No people. No crowds. Only the bright sunshine beaming. Everyone must be nursing a hangover from the party Hux, JJ, and Mack threw at the graveyard. Or they’re busy at the memorial. Which is fine. Whatever. As long as there aren’t witnesses to my escape.

I make it a few blocks from campus before the tears flow freely down my cheeks, covering me in my own despair.

I’m so dead. Jonathan is going to kill me for my failures. Maybe more than kill me. He’s going to ground me in the damn bunker for eternity and never let me lead a case again.

I’m so fucked.

2

Olivia

Humidity smacks me in the face the moment I step through the lone warehouse door, revealing a place I’d rather not be. Shivers run down my spine at the eerie feeling skittering across my flesh. I’m being watched; there are eyes everywhere.

Blinking several times, my eyes adjust from the bright sunshine outside to the dimly lit room. Darkness clings to the far corners of the warehouse, casting bone-chilling shadows that dance in the muted sunlight from the broken windows. I swallow hard when I nearly stumble over discarded and twisted metal lying on the ground, surrounded by thick, red stains on the concrete.

It’s not blood. Nope. It’s oil left behind from whatever this warehouse used to be. This is absolutely not a murder house. At least, that’s what I whisper to myself. Maybe I’m overstimulated and too overwhelmed to approach this place with a rational mind.

Fuck.

Instinctively, I reach for my weapon. The one I always carry with me on missions, but I freeze when all I’m met with is the fuzzy softness of my sweatpants Simon forced me into earlier. Memories of JJ standing before me with glistening eyes, pleading for me to talk to him, flash through my mind as the knife slips from my fingers and lands carelessly on the floor.

I left it. The only weapon I could use. I ran out of my dorm without grabbing it again.

Fuck.

Today was such a good day. Relaxing even. The most I’ve let go since I got to Greenwood. Then, JJ had to come and ruin it all with his stupid face and stupid words.

How did he figure out it was me? I’m undercover. In the perfect disguise! Okay, maybe not perfect. But I was pulling Oliver off well. No one batted an eye when I walked on campus dressed as Oliver Davenport. Everyone believed I was him. A man. Not Olivia. I may be a little scrawny with not much muscle, but I blew them away with my fighting techniques. Take that, Brutus! You massive bully.

Thank God, I’ll never have to stand before him again. He’s going to annihilate me if I go back. If being the keyword.

So how did JJ put the pieces together so easily? Simon knew because he walked in on me in the shower and saw me in all my naked glory.

Not my finest moment. But still… How did it all come to this? How did I climb into the skin of a man and get thrust into such a bullshit situation? What was Jonathan thinking, sending me here to confront my past?

I’d love to have a long conversation with JJ while he was tied to a chair. Okay, more like an interrogation. But still, JJ and I need to talk. Or would need to, if I were to go back. Which I’m not. Ever. Going. Back.

There’s no way in hell that I’m setting foot back onto Greenwood University’s grounds. Absolutely not.

Which brings me here, to Jonathan. In a creepy as fuck warehouse meant for murders, not conversations. I recheck my messages, confirm I’m in the right place, and nod.