Chapter 6 - Olivia

It's a bright, sunny day, and Rosa and Kaila are down at the beach. I'm making Kaila's favorite, chicken tacos, and glancing out the back door every few moments, just to make sure I'm keeping eyes on them.

Everything's a little hazy, but when they come kicking inside from the beach, and we have dinner, there's a knock on the door. Rosa and Kaila hide—they're always hiding. Because Amon, Rosa's father, is an evil son of a bitch, and Kaila's father, Bigby, is a fucking coward who abandoned them.

I open the door to a short little man whose hands are trembling when he hands me a paper.

"Sorry," I say, "I was just sitting down to supper."

"This is from Bernice Justine," the man says, his voice shaking, before he turns and runs back down the path.

Bernice Justine. Rosa's mother. We're in danger because Amon has found us, and then I'm staring at Bigby Vandenberg, the aforementioned fucking coward.

"Bigby?" I ask, taking in all 100 feet of him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Bigby says Amon is coming. That we need to leave. I realize he is our only chance of making it out alive.

"Rosa," I appeal. "Please, think of Kaila. We just have to get out of here. We have to keep her safe."

Kaila starts crying.

"Mom," she says, her voice wavering. She's taking deep breaths, like she wants to control it but can't. "I'm scared."

"I know, baby," Rosa says, narrowing her eyes at me.

Rosa, I send to her, though we never communicate like that, in case it's not safe.

"Please," I say, raising her clasped hands in front of me, panic building and building. I don't want anything to happen to Kaila and Rosa, but I also really, really don't want to die. Not at Amon's hands. Not like my family.

It crashes in on me all at once. I've spent almost a decade living in this shack with them, and now I'm going to die unless I can get Rosa out of here.

"Please, Rosie. I know you don't like him. Let's just go with him for now, and then we can figure something else out later."

Rosa won't, but then Bigby is taking her, and we're in Rosecreek.

"Get your fucking hands off me!"

Rosa is screaming, having a complete meltdown, but my eyes can't stop darting to the man with the blue hair. He's standing a way away from the others, his hood pulled up, flinching every time Rosa screams.

He is so, so handsome.

"Oh, thank god," Rosa says, coming around to me, taking Kaila from my arms and backing up against Bigby's Jeep.

"Rosa," I say, tearing my eyes from the man with the blue hair and refocusing on her, "this is the Rosecreek pack. They're going to help us."

But Rosa won't calm down. Then, Linnea comes, showing us the shelter where we can stay.

"This is really something," I say, taking it all in, astounded by the planning.

"I did my best to make it an area everyone can enjoy," Linnea says, "if you follow me, I can show you the living area."

"You wouldn't be trying to get into the interface, would you?"

I jump and whirl around, eyes wide, when I see the man with blue hair smiling at me, his hoodie pulled over his hair. My eyes dart between my tablet and the thermometer on the wall.

"No," I lie, at first, then, at his expression, I clear my throat. "Maybe. It's just freezing in here, and the thermometer keeps adjusting, and I just want to set the temperature a little higher."

"You could have just asked," he says, leaning over and tapping on my tablet, then keying a code I definitely watch to take. "Changes every ten minutes," he says, eyes flicking to the code, before winking at me.

"I'm Olivia," I say, trying to catch my breath.

"Yeah," he says, smirking and backing up the hallway. "I know."

Later, he finds me again at the beach when I'm trying to make a sandcastle. There's no hoodie this time, his bare chest gloriously exposed, his tattoos swirling out over his skin.

"I didn't peg you for a tattoo guy," I murmur.

"I didn't peg you for a staring kind of girl," he says, sitting next to me in the sand, "but here we are."

"I was not staring."

"English must be different in California."

"Oh, fuck you," I laugh, pushing him in the shoulder. When he doesn't so much as sway, I turn, pushing on him again, harder and harder, until he goes limp in the middle of a push, and we topple over into the sand, laughing.

"You ruined my castle," I say, frowning.

"Like I said," he says, tilting his head at the lump of sand on the beach, "English must be way different on the West Coast."

I insist he help me rebuild the castle, and he immediately becomes bossy, domineering. Part of me likes it. The other part of me is annoyed.

"We need water," he says, holding the bucket out to me, completely focused on the castle in front of him. I take the bucket, giggling to myself as I fill it with water.

When I return, I take a deep breath, then dump it over his head, watching his blue hair plaster to his forehead. I squeal with laughter, but then he turns around, his eyes dark and concentrated on me.

"Oh, shit," I mutter, before turning and taking off across the beach. Byron chases me down, scooping me up and running out into the water.

"Put me down!" I scream, only realizing my mistake a second before I hit the water. "I don't know how to swim!" I say, when I resurface.

"You really think you're clever, don't you," he says, gathering me up, and I end up with my hands on his chest, that warm, wet feeling from swimming sliding between us.

"I am clever," I whisper. His face moves closer to mine by just a centimeter, then, something strange passes over his expression, and, without warning, he drops me into the water again.

When I come up for air, he's gone.

***

An alarm goes off, and I sit upright, panic coursing through me. We have to evacuate the compound. Kaila is scared.

Bigby appears, leading us to Aris's house, where we'll be safe. When we walk into the kitchen, Byron is sitting there on his laptop.

I start to say something, but Byron makes a loud noise, which startles everyone.

"Sorry," he says, shaking his head, his eyes meeting mine momentarily, catching there, and I feel something heavy pass between us before he speaks again. "False alarm. Thought I had it."

I glance between him and his computer, drag my chair up beside him. Instantly, his scent washes over me, that natural, underlying scent, layered with his body wash, laundry soap, and cologne. I want to reach out and bury my hands in his hair, but instead, I focus on his computer.

"Oh," I say, "if you look at the user database—"

"I already checked that," he says, eyes darting over to me, and I get the feeling he doesn't think I know what I'm doing. I crack my knuckles, wanting to prove to him that I can figure this out.

We can't stay in the shelter because it's not safe. I glance at Byron. He's staying here, too.

"I'll stay here," I say, feeling Byron's presence next to me like a black hole I'm orbiting and about to fall into. "I can help Byron with this. The faster we get it solved, the faster we can get back into the compound."

"I don't need help," Byron says, raising his eyebrows at me.

"We'll see about that," I whisper, running my fingertips over the top of his thigh before taking his laptop from him. The move makes my heart race, and from the way there's a blush over his cheeks, I imagine it makes him feel something, too.

Later that night, when I showed up at his door, he hooked an arm around my waist and drew me inside. I melt against his sleepy body, moaning into his mouth, letting him lay me down on his bed and take all my clothes off.

We work together to figure out how someone broke into the compound.

"It's strange because the system accepted the thumbprint, but also doesn't have it registered in the system," I say, later in the day. Every night, I show up at his door, but we act like nothing is going on during the day.

He glances at me, eyebrows raised.

"Exactly," he says, slowly. "That's why it's difficult to figure out. I don't know why the system would treat it that way. It should either be an acceptance or a denial. Whoever this guy is, he did a great job at breaking through our firewall."

"Right," I say, before I can stop myself, "because it had to be a guy."

He's not misogynistic, he tells me. So why is he always saying stuff like that, insisting he doesn't need my help, pushing me away?

When I stop showing up at his door, he doesn't bother coming to mine. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the hurt radiating through me. During the day, I work tirelessly to figure it out.

Then, I do.

"I told you!" I say, bursting into the room and pointing at Byron, who looks up at me, startled.

"Told me what?" he says, crossing his arms, actually removing his fingers from the keyboard for a moment.

"I told you there was no exploitation in the system—this was not a hacking job, Byron!"

Byron sighed, leaning forward and running a hand through his hair, which looked a little duller than usual.

"Olivia," he says, glancing up at me with his hands together. "Do you have an explanation for how someone was able to break into our facility without exploiting the system? There has to be something with the cybersecurity that I'm missing."

"Yes, I do have an explanation," I say, adrenaline running through me as I put my tablet in his face. Byron reaches up slowly, taking the tablet and scrolling through the proof that there's a registered user in the system that just isn't showing up in the database.

Just like I suspected the entire time.

"Oh, no," he murmurs, before pushing the tablet back into my hands and taking off for the door. Disappointment sinks through me, and I almost hate myself for how much I wanted him to smile at me, proud that I managed to figure it out.

"You're welcome!" I shout after him, anger and sadness flooding through me. After that, I only want to avoid him, but I can't. We're sitting in the lab together as Rosa works on her antidote.

"Just grant me access to the internal systems," I say.

"I'm not doing that," Byron answers, teeth gritted.

"Clearly, you need my help with this," I say, wanting to rub it in his face that I've been the one making all the major strides lately.

"I don't need anyone's help—I'm trained by one of the most highly sophisticated agencies in the United States."

I almost laugh. I did a lot of reading on their agency, and I was not impressed.

"Oh, yeah, the agency that had a major leak—with not one but two double agents—that nearly led to widespread chemical warfare? That one?"

For the first time in nearly an hour, Byron is stunned silent. Why would he assume I haven't done what he would do, if he was in my situation?

I've already scoured all the messages and communications of all the people in this pack, just to be safe. Byron turns to me, slowly, and I smile innocently at him.

"Are you the one who did this? You hacked into the system? Just to mess with me? That serum is seriously dangerous—" Byron says, scowling and pointing his finger at me.

"Ha!" I laugh. "As though you actually think a woman is capable of getting through your precious firewall."

"Stop saying that like I'm sexist, I am not sexist, I just—"

"You're not? Explain the constant—"

"For the love of Antoine Lavoisier," Rosa says, and I jump, eyes flying to her as I realize she's still in the room. My heart races, a blush rising to my cheeks when she meets my eyes, knowing she can see right through me. "Can the two of you be quiet for a single moment? Byron, you don't have to actually sit right here next to me. I'm sure everyone will be content for you to sit out in the hallway."

"Actually," Byron mutters, "your boyfriend practically threatened to rip my head off if I so much as thought of taking a bathroom break while I'm here to protect you."

"Bigby is your boyfriend?" Kaila asks, from her spot across the room, her eyes peeking up at us over her book.

"No," Rosa says to her, and then to Byron, "I'll rip your head off, if you keep saying stupid things like that. Bigby is not my boyfriend, and I'm not going to be able to get any work done with the two of you going back and forth like this!"

"Well, then just tell him to give me access to the internal systems," I say. "He's lucky I'm asking nicely."

"Excuse me?" he says, raising his eyebrows at me, and for a second, I see him like he was when he had his face buried between my legs, and it sends a rush of heat through me. When his nostrils flare, I cross my legs, responding without missing a beat.

"Byron, sweetheart, what do you think is going to happen if you don't give me access?"

"Yeah, right, go ahead and try."

"You already admitted you think I can get through your security measures. Don't confuse yourself now."

"There's no way you're going to hack into the system right after you tell me you're going to hack into the system—"

"Oh really? Because I just did."

"You're not even looking at your tablet!"

"What? Oh, you need to look? Honey—"

"Olivia!" Rosa says, just as Byron shifts, his thigh pressing against mine, and it's like my entire mind turns to jelly. I can't stop thinking about the way that thigh feels when he's leaning over me, kissing me, the cross around his neck dangling between us—

"Kaila," I say, ripping my leg away from his, trying to regain control of my body. "Why don't I call Aris and see if he'll bring Araya down. We can all go to the park."

"Yes!" Kaila says, jumping up from her spot as I go out into the hallway to make the call.

"Son of a bitch," I hear Byron say, "she actually did hack in."

"Hey," Rosa snaps, and I know she's going to rip into him for using the B-word. "Don't say that word around my daughter. Better yet, don't say it at all."

" Right sorry, it's just—Olivia makes me crazy."

"That makes two of us."

I smile like an idiot down at my phone, trying to remember what I came out here to do.

That night, Byron comes to my door.

Later, we're at Bigby's house, playing Monopoly, and Byron keeps running his hand over my thigh under the table.

"Gods, Bryon, you are such a cheater!" I breathe, handing over more money to him. He keeps distracting me, which is costing me properties and cash.

"That's what sore losers say," Byron says, pursing his lips and re-arranging the money in his hand. "Just admit it, Ollie Pop."

My chest warms.

"Do not call me that."

"Losers don't get to pick their nicknames," Byron says, making Kaila giggle, and my chest warms further.

So, he's not perfect, but he'd make a great dad. I go outside to get some air, and try to shake away some of the overwhelming lust I feel every time I look at Byron.

But he comes out to find me on the porch, pushes me up against the siding of Bigby's house, and kisses me senseless, his hands under the hem of my shirt, his lips skating over my skin.

That night, he shows up at my door, but when I step forward to wrap my arms around him, he cocks his head and grins.

"You want to go for a run?"

We shift as soon as we hit the trees, racing through the woods. We follow a rabbit for a while, then tumble down a hill together.

When it starts to rain, hard, we seek refuge under a pavilion far from the house. We shift back, and Byron slots his body to mine, making love to me in the rain. The tender touches, soft breaths, the way he holds me like he knows I could break—I realize it all at once. That this is more than a fling. That Byron and I are end game.

"Byron," I breathe, looking up at him when we're done, laughing at how the water drips from his nose and onto my chest. "I love you."

"What?" he mumbles, pulling his head back, looking at me, his expression still sleepy and lust-filled and adoring.

"Byron, you—you're my mate."

"What?" he says, rearing back, and I miss his body heat immediately. It's a lot to deal with, I know, so I take a deep breath, meeting his eyes.

"I—" I say, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. I don't even care that I'm naked—I feel so comfortable with him, it's just the same as being fully clothed. "We're mates. Can't you feel it? I'm just, so, so happy. After all those years hiding with Kaila and Rosa, I never thought I would get to have a family of my own—"

" Family ?" Byron whispers, shaking his head and backing away more, his face white.

"Byron," I say, my smile falling a bit. I reach for him, but he steps back, avoiding my touch. The sting is immediate and painful, and I watch it flicker over him, too.

Because we feel each other's emotions. Because we're mates.

"No," he whispers, still shaking his head, his breathing coming fast, and I feel his panic wash through me as it washes through him. "No, Olivia, I'm sorry. We're not. You're mistaken."

With that, he turns and shifts, racing back into the thunderstorm, while I stand and watch from my place under the pavilion, watching his figure disappear into the woods.