It’s way past time.
8 BLADE
I’ve been replaying seeing Olivia for the first time since our last meeting over and over in my head. I imagined the triumph I’d feel when she saw me. I imagined making her feel like shit and showing her that I was going to devote the rest of my life to destroying her, just like she had me. I relished the idea of proving to her that in my eyes she was just as guilty as her brother, and I was never going to let her have a moment of peace. Fuck, even using Layna was all because I knew it would cause Olivia pain.
Today is not living up to my fantasies. Olivia looks and acts like a broken doll. I honestly have no idea what’s going on. She’s acting like a child—either that or a basket case. I can’t tell if it’s all an act, or if it’s real. If it is just a performance by her, it’s a damn good one. As if dealing with that isn’t enough, I find myself drawn to a woman with jet-black hair, hazel eyes, and a curvy body that instantly grabs my dick’s attention. I don’t have time for that. I sure as fuck didn’t expect it. If anything, I was worried about what my reaction to Olivia would be after all this time. As much as I want to deny it, I loved her at one time. Those feelings imploded. I know they’re gone. That emotion has been ripped out of me every day, every hour, minute, and second of the years since my brother was killed. I don’t have time for this—especially for a woman who is close to Olivia.
If all of that wasn’t enough, now our club’s Chaplin comes walking in and Olivia runs to him like he’s her fucking father and not the man they’re getting ready to put in the ground. I haven’t seen Cross since before Bear died. When I was arrested, he was on leave from the club because his daughter had cancer, and he wanted to be there for her. I heard he came back after she passed away, but I never followed up to see how he was doing. I had my hands full at the time. It looks like I should have.
“Hey, little one. I’m sorry I’m late,” Cross says, holding her close.
“We’ve asked for the room to be cleared so Olivia could say goodbye to her father privately,” the woman who wet dreams are made of explains.
“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” Cross asks softly.
Fuck, why do I feel like shit is going to get even more complicated for me. I need my club behind me. Cross has been with me and Bear for a long time. He hasn’t so much as looked at me since he got here, and that doesn’t sit right with me.
“What are you doing here, Cross?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“We’ll talk later. I’m not here as part of the club,” Cross says, and it didn’t escape my attention that he wasn’t wearing his club cut—I just chose to ignore it. It’s then I hear the roar of bikes. I look over and see three members with Saint’s Outlaws cuts on. One I don’t know, but he fits the description Hangman gave me of the new guy, King. He’s a muscled black man, hair cut short, and an air around him that demands no one should fuck with him. Sasa—one of Bear’s oldest friends who has been like a second brother to me—whose Cherokee blood shines through in all his features, and Money, who is another old timer who … What the actual fuck? “Ollie-girl, some of the guys are here. They want to stand beside you. Would that be okay?”
I watch as Olivia looks down at her finger, moving my brother’s signet ring back and forth. She whispers something without looking up. I have to strain to hear it, and then I’m still not sure I heard correctly. “Do they know?”
“Ollie, you’re safe. Remember our promise?”
I think my brain must be misfiring. What the fuck is going on with the members of my club and Olivia? And who is this weak woman that is inhabiting the self-assured Olivia I used to know. Hell, the Olivia I met that night who urged me to shoot her. Am I in some fucking twilight zone, where everything is upside down?
She bites her lip and nods. “I remember,” she says with a shaky breath. She doesn’t look up. “We can start. I’m okay.”
“I still think you should leave, Mr. Aetos,” the fucking detective says.
I look at Cross. “I want to talk to you first thing in the morning.”
“Looking forward to it,” Cross responds, looking far too cocky.
“Let’s go,” I order Layna, trying to contain my anger.
“You aren’t going to let these people make you leave? Blake! This is ridiculous,” Layna whines.
“Get your fucking ass in the car or walk home. I don’t give a damn. We’re leaving,” I snap. As I turn to walk away, Olivia lifts her gaze to look at me. I stare at her. My gaze searches for any sign of the woman I faced off with last time. It disturbs me that I can’t find a trace of her. Is Olivia that great of an actress? She played me throughout our entire relationship, though. She could be doing it again.
I all but stomp my way to my SUV. Layna’s whining in my ear, but I’ve tuned her out. I can’t believe so many of my club were here to support Olivia—and it’s obvious they were supporting her. Not one of them bothered to speak to me. It seems I need to figure a lot of shit out that I hadn’t planned on.
The first of those being, what the fuck is going on with my club and Olivia Davis.
9 OLIVIA
“What are you thinking, Ollie-girl?”
I turn to look at Cross. “I’m thinking that my father would be disappointed in me for the meltdown I had at his funeral.”
“Bullshit. Your father would be damn proud he had a daughter who has survived all that you have.”
“I doubt that. If anything, he’d be ashamed of me.”
“Why in the fuck would you say that?” Cross asks.
I swipe at the heavy drops of tears I can feel on my eyelashes. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just hate that I was so weak in front of Blake and that stupid bitch Layna. I thought I was ready. Clearly, I’m not.”
