Page 68 of The Unravelings

Blackmailing asshole.

And I really don’t want to face him. Or any of them. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be Oliver anymore. I really had my heart set on being Olivia again, lounging in the bunker as I awaited another case.

Man, did Jonathan disappoint.

A tiny voice in the back of my head that’s been there since I walked through Veritas’ door and became theirs echoes in my head. Buck up, Liv. It’s one little study session with JJ. One little encounter that will only last an hour. One measly hour. You can survive this. Like you’ve survived everything else.

You have no choice.

You have to do this.

It’s a job.

I raise my chin, forcing my muscles to loosen as I stare at myself in the mirror again. I’m in there somewhere beneath this facade Jordy helped me create. Oliver. Olivia. Beneath my thick glasses, short hair that—shit, I still need to book in a haircut. I frown, running my fingers through my shaggy locks. It’s grown so much since I chopped it in the hotel bathroom.

Add that to my to-do list. Right after studying with JJ. Even though we won’t be studying. We’ll be talking. Or staring. Or whatever the hell else he decides we need to do while I’m trapped in the study room with him.

Now, I need to go to the library before I run out of time and stop standing here, basking in my dread and self-doubt. This is the perfect opportunity to suss JJ out and pull information from him. Sure, he’ll probably want to know where I’ve been and why I’m back dressed like this. And at some point, I’m going to have to tell him something. Especially if I ask him to tell me information on my family’s death and how it was presented to the rest of the community. An electrical fire? That’s what the newspaper reports said online when I looked earlier. Hell, they even interviewed Franco’s lying ass as he fake-mourned our deaths.

That was it, though.

There wasn’t anything about suspected foul play or the gasoline used to douse our home. I know Franco has the police in his pocket. It’s a fact. Just like the guys do, too. Did he pay the officials to mark our deaths as accidental? Most likely. But I still want more information.

So, that’s what I’ll do tonight. I’ll use this fun game of blackmail to get information out of JJ.

If I can face him one-on-one without losing myself, that is. It was hard enough when I learned he would be my tutor. Being so close to him in such a small space.

The mental image of JJ’s face covered in tears as sobs worked from his throat flashes in my mind. He was genuinely upset. He’s either an amazing actor, luring me in with a false sense of security.

Or he’s being real.

“We weren’t there. We were in Vegas. Don’t you remember?”

Remember?

I wish I could remember clearly what happened before everything imploded and my world caught fire with lies and deceit. But I can’t. There’s a void there. The only thing I see when I peer at their faces is their smoldering betrayal.

The masks. The knife. The screams of my mother and sister. The smell of gasoline permeating the air.

The trauma won’t leave me. It never will. It will always hang in the back of my mind, in the shadows, waiting to remind me of what I lived through. What I fucking survived.

Maybe that’s why I was so fucking baffled when they broke into my house and killed us all without shedding a tear.

I knew they weren’t supposed to be there. They were on a mission for Franco.

In my mind, though, I thought they were lying. Even though I saw them off and they drove away toward the interstate with frowns on their lips and regret in their eyes.

It was obviously all a ruse. A sham to fool me into thinking I was safe. Then and now.

Or…was it?

“Fuck!” I grunt, trying to keep my voice low and hidden from Simon on the other side of the door.

I clutch my hair and take several breaths. Is this what Jonathan wanted? My confusion? My heart breaking all over again?

“Get it together. You’re stronger than this,” I hiss to my reflection. “You are Oliver. You can take anyone on.”

Longing hits me hard. Before, when I crashed over being here, Jordy was by my side with reassurance. A phone call away. Now, I’m on my own while he’s away on his case.