Surge (33 page)

“That would be me,” Olivia says from my left. I glance at her and see that she’s worrying her bottom lip. She’s wearing her leather armor, but the visor to the motor cycle helmet is up. “I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds. I mean, I’ve already made her violent, and now I’m dressing her...” I hold up my hand to stop her from rambling, when what I really want to do is kiss those abused full lips. No way in hell is that happening anytime soon, no matter how much I want to.

“She looks perfect,” I say and meet Olivia’s eyes to show her that I’m serious. “I trust you.”

Olivia bites back the smile that tries to break through, but I catch it in her quirking lip and shimmering grey eyes. How that bitch could say that they were dead is ridiculous. Olivia’s eyes can be storm grey or an icy steel when she’s pissed, showcase blue flecks when she’s happy, or bleed their color to a cool grey when she’s remembering something unpleasant. The unpleasant one is the only one I don’t like seeing, that’s when I want to shield her behind me and punch anyone that so much as thinks of looking in her direction.

Thinking about the lying whore upstairs, I recall that Olivia had a plan which we were supposed to carry out today. I motion for Olivia to follow me out of the apartment. She must get the idea, since she waves Cory to come with us before following me out. John must have seen the exchange, since his face turns hard and he stubbornly joins, regardless of the lack of invite.

Olivia and Cory jog up the stairs ahead of us, so I follow Cory’s booted feet up to the fourth floor with John trailing behind me. Olivia left the door wide open, so we can see her as soon as we reach the door. She’s holding Victoria by the roots of her hacked red hair while doing something to her throat. Her gloved hand is squeezing it, while Victoria thrashes her head around.

“I thought you were going to make her suffer?” John asks somewhat disappointedly. He wanted Olivia to take some much deserved vengeance out on the red head.

“Oh, she will,” Olivia replies cryptically. “I’m just not going to kill her.” John and I look at her in confusion, so she explains. “I just crushed her voice box. That’s step one. Step two is to drag her down to the courtyard, and chain her up. I know for a fact that waiting for the inevitable, while chained helplessly to something, is a fate worse than death.” Olivia glares at Victoria. “I hope you like a taste of your master’s medicine, you cunt.”

After Olivia wraps another layer of rope and tape around the chair, she motions for Cory to come and pick up Victoria. John and I give him a hand with moving the awkward shape and weight through the stairwell. It takes us about ten minutes to reach the bottom of the stairs and carry the captive into the courtyard. Dropping the chair without care, the now mute woman strapped down, doesn’t so much as squeak. That reminds me of what Victoria said about Olivia when she had her throat carved. Any guilt or pity that I should have felt for the red head, vanishes with that one memory.

Picking up a chain from the ground, Olivia wraps it around Victoria’s waist, the arms of the chair and Victoria’s legs, before attaching it to a padlock on the metal gate. Gripping the chain, Olivia places her foot on the chair and pulls to make sure that even Houdini himself couldn’t break free. Satisfied, she then leans into the red head’s furious eyes.

“I’m sure I’ll see you again in Hell,” Olivia sneers. “Be sure to say hello to Frank, Kale, Kenneth, Terrence and Mark for me when you get there.”

She points above her, so I follow Olivia’s finger and find several bodies chained by their necks to the exterior wall of our condo; which I didn’t even notice were there until she pointed them out. Why the hell are they up there, how the fuck did she do it, and when was this? Where was I when she was strapping corpses to my house? All questions to wait, and even then, I may never get the answers.

“Oh, and my Aunt Crystal too. Can’t forget about her, and that greedy bitch must have croaked by now.” Olivia pats the girl’s cheek. “But I have a feeling I’ll be joining you all soon, and with a few others in tow, so don’t start without me. Or our guest of honor, Cole. I’ll make sure he gets an extra special kiss goodbye from me.” Red starts struggling, but Olivia just laughs. “We’ll have ourselves a nice little reunion for old time’s sake.”

Over my dead body. I’ll drag her out myself if I have to, but my pint sized Tomb Raider will
not
be joining the fuckers who tormented her. Cory and John look ready to tear the world apart too, so I’m positive that Olivia won’t be joining any the bastards she takes down. And who the fuck is Aunt Crystal?

I don’t say anything, because there’s no point to arguing with someone dead set on a plan. I’ll just have to prevent Olivia from her suicide mission if need be. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

And Olivia’s lack of care for what happens to her own life, has just become my personal enemy.

<~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~>

“What the fuck, Livs?” Cory hisses as John locks the entry door behind us. Olivia tries to walk upstairs, but Cory grabs hold of her hand. She looks at him with those vacant eyes. “I just got you back, and you already want to leave me? I can’t lose you again. I just can’t.” Cory’s voice cracks as he chokes on a sob. “You’re all have left.”

Olivia shakes her head as she jumps to wrap her arms around his neck in a fierce hug, and Cory returns it with equal fervor. Her feet aren’t even on the ground, but Cory keeps her lifted and safely wrapped in his arms without even so much as hunching with her added weight.

“I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. I’m not going anywhere, you hear me, my big teddy bear?” Cory nods, but doesn’t let her go. “Good, because I have plenty more ass kicking to finish, and I’ll need your help.”

“You know you’ve had us Prescott boys wrapped around your little finger ever since you were able to curl it at us,” he says. Olivia laughs as she wipes tears from both of their faces with one arm sleeve, and holds on with the other hooked around his neck.

“That went double for you,” she says. Cory laughs and sets her down, but doesn’t unwrap his arms from her waist. “Don’t even try to deny it. All I had to do was say your name, point, and whatever I wanted you to do, would be done like that.” Olivia snaps her fingers together.

“That’s ‘cause I was a man,” Cory boasts as he puffs out his chest. The pose is eerily similar to the cocky rooster he accused his brother of being. I wonder how much he resembles Travis, and if it’s painful for her to look at Cory if he does?

“You were only eleven,” she counters with a grin. “And you were taking orders, well before then.”

“Fine, you had me at the first gummy smile, alright?” Cory huffs with what I swear are blushing cheeks, but she just nods her head in agreement.

“Much better,” she says and pulls back from her hug from the giant.

Cory has a good foot in height on her, but you can obviously see that he’d follow her to the end of the world if he had to. I’m guessing Travis was equally enraptured by her, and maybe that’s why I’m infatuated with her. Maybe it’s her pheromones that attracts men like bees to honey, or maybe it’s just Olivia, but whatever it is, I know that I want more of it.

I want the easy camaraderie she has with Cory. I want to be able to hold her hand or hug her whenever the impulse arises, instead of having to fight the urge to do so. I want to be able to joke around with her and kiss her forehead, like he’s doing right now. I’ve never envied a man so much in my life, and he only treats her as a sister. I would have probably had a coronary if I had to witness Travis’s affection for her.

“What the fuck are we?” John demands with his arms crossed and a smirk upon his face. “Chopped liver?”

Olivia turns to face him. Slowly raising her trembling arms, she waits for John to hug her with a forced smile on her beautiful lips. John takes a step forward and shakes her hand. Olivia frowns at his offending appendage before pulling him to her. He stumbles at the unexpected action, but rights himself to accept her embrace. Olivia whispers something up to him, and John nods before pulling back.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” John replies and turns to glare at Cory. “Come here, you asshole.
‘I have no one left.’
Again, what the fuck are we?”

“A pain in my ass,” Cory answers and John lunges at him.

They start wrestling to gain dominance, but a small tug on my coat has me turning my attention to the pixie next to me. She’s fiddling with her leather jacket sleeve and won’t make eye contact for a few seconds. Clearing her throat, she still sounds a little raspy with her shaking voice.

“Th-thank you for t-taking care of h-him,” Olivia says and finally looks up to meet my eyes.

“No thanks necessary,” I reply with her words. “He took care of us really.” She shakes her head.

“No, he may have shown you how to
survive
,” she counters. “But you made him
live
. Humans are social creatures and it’s not healthy to be alone.” Olivia raises her trembling arms to present herself as an example.

“You are perfectly normal,” I say and she just gives me a single brow lift. I ignore it and press on. “How long were you alone?”

“Really alone, or felt alone?”

“Both,” I answer.

“I’ve been alone for, what month is it again?”

“End of August,” I say and she nods.

“Then I’ve been alone for about four months.” My eyes bulge at the answer that she said so casually, like it’s normal to be by yourself for four months, and not give a shit. “But I’ve felt alone for fifteen.”

“When did you lose Travis and Cory?” I ask and hold my breath in hopes that I’m not pushing her.

“Fifteen months ago,” she says. “That bad day I was referring to was Travis’s anniversary.” I nod and she continues. “I went to the nearest liquor store, locked myself in, and drank two bottles of Jack by myself. Spent the next two days sleeping or hurling my guts out, but I felt numb by the end.” Olivia gives me a sardonic grin. “Still think I’m normal?”

“Absolutely,” I agree. “You were grieving.”

“Was I grieving when I sat on a ledge of the John Hancock building, and tried to convince myself that there was still something left to live for?”

“Yes,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “You were still fucking grieving.” She shakes her head at me.

“Don’t care about me, Jared,” Olivia says with a pat to my arm. “It’ll only get you killed in the end. Just ask Travis.” She taps her face. “Oh that’s right, you can’t because I’m the fucking black widow.”

Olivia runs upstairs before I can argue with the ridiculous things she was spouting off. Cory shoves past me and chases after her. Even John punches my shoulder and glares at me. What the fuck did I do?

“What?”

“You know exactly what,” John answers. “You pissed her off.”

“She pissed me off first,” I retort and his eyes widen with interest. “She was saying some bull shit about being crazy and a black widow, so I was simply saying that she wasn’t, that she was only grieving. Then she accuses me of caring about her. As fucking if. I don’t care about women, unless they’re related by blood.” John’s laughing by the end, and I really want to punch him, but I restrain the urge and cross my arms in wait of him sobering.

“You are so screwed,” John says and grips my shoulder, before meeting my eyes. “But I gotta say, that you have excellent taste. That’s one hell of a woman, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“I don’t,” I snarl. “Because I don’t fucking want her as anything more than a friend.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” John shouts with a fist bump to the sky. “‘Cause I have no problem plowing past the friend zone. I’ll even become faithfully monogamous for the first time ever in my young life.”

Clenching my jaw to the point of pain, I shove my supposed best friend out of my way, and stomp upstairs. Fucking bastard. Accuse me of having feelings for a woman. Who the hell does he think I am, some lovesick schoolboy? Hell to the no, I won’t go. Olivia may be a special woman, but she isn’t for me. Nuh-uh. No siree.

Then why does the just the thought of John’s hand touching hers, make me see red? Why does the thought of any man, that isn’t me, touching Olivia; make me want to go into a jealous rage and kill the mother fucker?

Jesus Christ, the bastard was right. I fucking care about Olivia. I’m scared spitless, so I react in the only way I can think off. Turning slightly, I land a low blow to the asshole behind me. John falls forward and cups his injured balls with a grunt of pain, and a muttered curse.

That’s what you get, you prick. Make me aware of feelings better left hidden. Like in a caged treasure chest buried at the bottom of the ocean, with a freaking ton of sharks protecting it. He just unleashed earth shattering shit, that there’s no possible way that I can rebury or ignore. Fucking John.

And goddamn that beautifully damaged woman for making me care about her.

<~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~><~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~>