Page 13 of The Unravelings

And has been this entire time.

“You found those fuckers yet?” He gestures to the broken gravestone, cracked through her name and the 224.

That’s when it hits me. Like, really gut punches me and knocks my breath away. She’s not in that grave. Never has been. Mack talks to no one. Not her corpse. Just a casket six feet deep with her name above it. Because Olivia isn’t there. She’s walking around, breathing, and living still. And somehow, we missed that in all our grief. Franco told us she died, and we unquestioningly accepted it. Even looking into the ashes of her home, we never questioned the firefighters or the people at the funeral.

We all thought she was dead and gone, but how wrong we were.

I swallow hard, my brain filling with static and indecision. It’s on the tip of my tongue. Olivia is alive. I saw her. We spoke. She threatened me with a knife. Watch the evidence; I can prove it to you.

Her words ring in my mind, her tone authoritative and demanding. “This stays between us.”

Too bad she’s in no position to make demands, but I can’t come into this conversation full of emotions and half-cocked. I need to know more information. Even if this creates a rift between us later. I’ll take that risk to figure out what the fuck is going on and why she’s suddenly alive and breathing.

I’m sorry, Mack.

“No,” I blurt way too quickly. Mack raises a brow, inspecting my stone expression. Do not show him any ounce of emotion, or he’ll suspect something. “But I have a few leads from around town. I need to investigate it more. Then, we’ll have confirmation.” Not a total lie. I do have a few leads.

And one very alive suspect.

There’s something about outing Olivia that feels wrong. There has to be a logical explanation as to why she faked her death and ran. Her father, maybe? He’s still at large. Somewhere on this planet. What if he’s responsible for all of it? Not to mention, she ran again. Right out of her dorm and God knows where. If she never came back, Mack would be heartbroken all over again. Angry Mack I can handle. Grieving and rage-filled Mack is another story.

Maybe it’s selfish to conceal that she’s alive. I’m sure the other two would do the same if they knew. Protect her at all costs. But no one ever said I wasn’t selfish. I am. So, I’ll keep her secret for now. I’ll use her to my advantage and suss out why she’s here again.

Because if I were Olivia, I’d never want to come back here again and face us. Not after faking her death. Or making us think she was dead for five years. I’d stay as far away as I possibly could, instead of coming back dressed as a man named Oliver.

4

Malic

Hunting my unsuspecting prey this early in the morning is usually more…thrilling than this. Give me screams, blood, and a thrilling chase. Not this. The air is fresh, quiet, and there’s not a hint of bloodshed on the horizon.

Booorrrriinnngg! Come on, boys! Give me some entertainment! Come after me!

Something. Anything.

I yawn, leaning against a large tree outside the mansion on the hill, overlooking the graveyard. The Fuckwits’ house. My enemies. The boys I want to squish for existing. And I will one day.

Soon.

But not today.

For three paranoid idiots with cameras everywhere, they never know I’m here. Ever. Even Mack and the dog walked right past me an hour ago without a clue.

The light wind blows, swaying the trees and blowing across my skin. Yawn. Something exciting needs to happen. Maybe Hux will finally pop out and declare war on me.

War sounds exciting. Bloody. Fucking glorious. No matter how much of a party pooper Wilder is.

Or maybe…

My thoughts trail off when JJ emerges from the front door with his shirt barely on and his shoes untied. Things just got interesting. A constipated expression crosses his features as he hurries away, unaware of his stalker.

Me.

Okay, maybe my entertainment has arrived. Now what does little JJ have in store for me? Hmmm, where is he off to so early in the morning? He barely emerges on a good day. Only to go to class and back home. Usually, he’s attached to his laptop.

Ask me how I know.

I follow behind him, concealing myself in the shadows of the trees and never being seen. Like always. It’s my specialty to watch, observe, and then report back. Or, to make mental notes of the situation and keep them to myself for later.