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Like I won’t understand why.
But I do.
“I was in the military,” I admit to her, and she cocks her head to the side, confused. “I left a while ago. Before the executive orders.”
I don’t elaborate. It’s the most I’ve discussed this, besides with Dylan.
But with Olive, I find myself wanting to lay my secrets bare. I want to cut open my chest and tear out my fucking soul and place it at her feet, if she would just let me.
With this little Omega, I’m unhinged.
“I won’t let it happen to you,” I promise her, as she continues to stare at me, her brow furrowed. “You won’t lose yourself.”
“I…” Her expression is bewildered. “I can’t stay here, Killian. I justcan’t. Thank you for helping me, but I can’t live here. With you.”
Her voice breaks on the last word, and I narrow my eyes.
My admission was pointless.
“There should be some clean clothes in the dresser until we can order some for you.” I snap. “Do you need help undressing?” I leer over her, taking a step closer.
The vulnerability in her eyes disappears, replaced by familiar daggers.
“Never,” she hisses.
“That’s my girl. And be sure to keep those drapes closed, unless you want a new room atEden.”
It’s a lie. The windows are tinted, but she doesn’t know that. I shut the door, inhaling her scent one last time.
She murmurs something behind the door that sounds a lot like ‘bastard’, and I smirk.
I can’t wait to put that smart mouth to good use once she’s rested.
* * *
I makea stop at another bedroom down a secluded hallway.
I don’t bother knocking, and I barge in on Brock, who is concentrating on his computer screen. Well, one of them at least. Two others sit on the sides of the massive middle one.
“What?” He grunts, his eyes never leaving the screen.
“You looking her up?” I ask, peering over at his results.
“Yeah. Olivia Astor. Twenty-four. Degree in computer science.” His eyes narrow as he types. “Fuck, and she’s reported missing.”
“Well, yeah. That’s not surprising.”
Brock swivels his chair to face me, exasperated. “Yes, and she was last seen in Los Angeles. Which means they could go door to doorlookingfor her.”
“Ah, calm down. It’s more fun that way. It’s like hide and seek, but life and death.”
I flash him a grin. Getting under his skin is much too fun, and Dylan isn’t here to play interference.
“Well, some of us actually have something to lose,” he says, cocking an eyebrow. “Not all of us would thrive in prison.”
I scoff and shake my head, laughing. “I can thrive anywhere. Unlike you, who likes to hide behind a computer screen and sit on piles of money.”
His eye twitches.
