I hear footsteps in my bedroom. Then a light knock.
“Oliver?” someone hesitantly calls. Nick.
Does he know about Matt?
You’re so stupid!
Yeah, okay, Nick’s a werewolf, too. Are all Matt’s friends werewolves? Will they hurt me? No, if Matt trusts them, they won’t.
Matt wouldn’t hurt me. Even my extremely stupid mind knows that.
But do I really want to go out and deal with things right now?
“It’s safe, Oliver. I promise. Will you please come out?” Nick says, gently coaxing.
I guess I don’t have a choice anymore.
Chapter Twenty One
Oliver
Nick gently walks me over to my surprisingly intact couch, and I sit there for who knows how long. My house is overrun by strangers. Well, not really. Marcus and Sloan stand in front of a handcuffed, very human-looking Dalton.
And I know Nick, who’s sitting on one of the armchairs beside mine.
I can hear Dalton shouting something, but I can’t make out the words. Everything is a bit out of focus. A little slow.
My mind’s running on overdrive, refusing to focus on anything other than the memory of Matt's inhuman face.
Sharper cheekbones.
Glowing eyes.
He almost looked ethereal.
Beautiful.
The hurt on his face didn’t change that. Not one bit.
I will myself to remember how he hid this massive secret from me.
All his behavior makes so much sense now. His insistence that I stop my investigation. That Dalton was just a drug addict. His deplorable investigation skills were just another way to misguide me. I almost feel relieved that Matt isn’t actually that dumb, that bad at lying. But he’s been lying to me for weeks. Who knows what else he’s lied about?
Adrenaline still courses through my body. My heart beats so fast, I'm amazed it hasn't launched out of my body.
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Nick says, slicing through my tangled thoughts. “I injected him with anti-shift serum. That’ll prevent him from shifting for at least twenty-four hours.”
I nod, realizing that out of the ten thousand thoughts vying for my attention, none are about the possible danger surrounding me. It surprises me a bit, but I trust these people. I try not to think too much about why.
Because you still trust Matt. You’re hopeless!
“Oliver?” Nick places a tentative hand on my arm. I focus on his touch, the heat he generates. It's grounding. “Meena will be here to tell you everything, but I might as well get started.”
Reality slams into me. I drop back into my body.
“Matt, where’s Matt?”
“Back at his apartment,” Nick answers, rubbing the back of his neck.
