Jake may have continued talking. If he did, Olivia didn’t hear a word he said. Glancing up at the other man, she could actually see her brother in his eyes.
No.Her mind refused to believe it. She blinked, sending tears down over her cheeks.
Jerking her arm free, Olivia yelled, “Please do, Jake! Please explain to me why you’re trying to convince me that this man is mybrother!Mikey died ten years ago!”
As the volume of her voice increased so did her tears. She turned and started to walk away, only stopping when she heard the imposter speak.
“I didn’t die, Olivia. They just made it look that way.”
Very slowly, Olivia turned around and moved back toward the man. She stopped directly in front of him and glared into those all-too-familiar eyes. He kept talking...or at least tried to.
“I’ve been working undercover and—”
Olivia didn’t even realize she’d swung her arm until she felt the sting on the palm of her hand from where it had made contact with the guy’s cheek. His head snapped to the side from the impact of the blow, which he simply took as if it were deserved.
Speaking in an emotionless voice that even she didn’t recognize, Olivia said, “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. I just want you gone.”
She turned and walked toward the hallway, wanting to get away from him, and—for the first time in her life—Jake, as fast as she possibly could.
“When you were seven, you broke Mom’s favorite picture frame. You threw your plastic Cinderella play shoe at me. You were mad because I’d pulled your new Barbie doll’s head off.”
Olivia stumbled to a stop but kept her back to the two men.
“And when you were thirteen, I caught you and Jennifer Green smoking cigarettes behind the garage. I made you both swear to me that you’d never smoke again, or I’d tell Pops.”
Her breath hitched. She ignored the tears, now, not caring that they were running down the length of her neck.
It can’t be.She’dburiedMike. She’d held her dad’s hand as they stood over his grave and cried together. As they told him goodbye.
Olivia heard movement from behind her and knew he was stepping slowly toward her. She wanted to run, but her feet refused to budge.
She didn’t turn around, though. Mostly for fear she’d start to believe the man’s lies.
“I call you Junebug because when you were born, mom told me your middle name was June. It reminded me of June bugs, and the name stuck.”
Olivia’s hand flew to her mouth, holding back her sobs while the man continued to talk.
“The night before I left for boot camp, we both sat in your room on that God-awful boy band comforter of yours and made promises to each other. I made you promise to watch over Pops, to do good in school, and to stay away from that prick, James Marshall. You made me promise to make it through camp, and I swore to you, I wouldn’t give up. No matter how hard it got.”
Oh, God. How could this man know all of these things?
“You also made me pinky swear that I’d look out for Jake. You told me I’d better make sure nothing happened to him, or you’d find a way to sneak onto base and strangle me in my sleep. Then, you said when you were finished with me, you’d find my girlfriend at the time, Tiffany Walker, and tell her about Michelle Haynes kissing me behind the concession stand after the Homecoming game.”
A strangled sound escaped from Olivia’s throat. Her mind raced with pain and confusion. She’d never told anyone else any of those things. Only Mikey knew, and he was dead.Wasn’t he?
Olivia turned back around slowly. She had to wipe her eyes in order to focus on the man’s face.
He was standing right in front of her, now. She studied him closely. The corners of his mouth turned up just enough to see the dimples in his cheeks, even beneath the dark beard.
He had her brother’s strong cheekbones and a slightly crooked nose. Mikey had broken his once. He’d gotten into a fight after school when he saw a kid bullying a younger girl.
Her brother was a lot like Jake, even back then. Always protecting those he cared for and those who couldn’t protect themselves.
She wiped her eyes again, her breath catching when she saw the small scar at the base of his bottom lip. Mikey had gotten stitches in that exact same spot when he was in high school. He’d been showing off for a girl in his class.
They were swimming in her backyard pool. Misjudging the distance he needed to jump away from the diving board, Mikey had flipped off of it, smacking his face in the process.
Later that night, he’d bragged to his friends about the three stitches he’d received...and the sympathy date he’d scored out of the whole ordeal.
