Chapter 25

twenty-five

Tav

I’ve thought about nothing but getting back to Olympia since I drove away this morning for work. It’s just after two in the afternoon as I step through the front door to what sounds like an empty house. Because it’s sunny outside, I figure she’s out on the patio. I’m prepared to be hit by a brick of desire at the possibility of finding her doing some yoga routine or another, but at the sight of the closed and locked patio door, a frown hits me instead.

Where is she?

I stand in the living area for a minute, listening to the unusual silence of my home. Shit, I’ve come to expect her noise. I’ve come to expect her.

The sound of her in my space is something that I’ve not only come to expect—but it’s a comfort. I like her here.

Jesus, if I hadn’t been so determined to get rid of her because of her last name, would I have realized it sooner?

How much time with her have I wasted?

And how has my misguided hatred of her affected what we can become now?

Christ, that scar on her ass is bad. It had felt bad when I’d caught her ass in my hands in the pool. But seeing it last night as she slept, even in just the light of the moon, I could see it was bad. Around the one raised welt, there were other fainter, thinner welts. But the fact they were there at all did something to me. It chased away sleep and lit a fire in my chest I wasn’t sure I’d ever fully be able to douse.

All the shit she’d said since she arrived hit me like brick after brick, blow after blow, to my heart and soul. She hadn’t lied to me when she told me in all her round about ways how unsafe she’d been at home with Remira.

She hadn’t lied, and I hadn’t listened.

Now, I have questions. Only, I know I have no right to ask.

But I want to know where William was in all this? Where was her father when Remira was beating her with belts that left welts like the ones on her ass? Why was she suddenly so sheltered that she had nothing and no one to turn to when she needed help, but me? How was I her best and only choice?

And how had she been promised to my brother?

Rubbing my brow, I sigh a heavy sigh.

I have no right to ask my questions considering the way I’d pushed her away again and again. Making her life harder even as she desperately clung to happiness and hope. I have no right, but I’ll still ask.

I’ll ask because I need to know everything.

And then I’ll make them pay.

I’ll make them all pay for the way they betrayed my mother. And I’ll take vengeance for how they hurt Olympia.

Cocking my head, I listen to the silence again. Starting down the hall, I see her bedroom door closed and feel my lips quirk in a grin.

Finding her spread naked with her toy rubbing against her glistening cunt had been the least of my expectations last night.

Softening my steps, I listen at her door. When I hear a small moan—no—cry—my heart seizes.

I don’t think twice about opening her door and stepping into her room. I don’t even know why she’s in here. I told her last night that she was to be in my room from now on. That she was mine.

“Olympia?” I call her name gently, moving fast when her shoulders shake.

She’s laying on her bed facing the window, her back to me. But I can see well enough that she’s crying.

The fuck?

Did someone contact her? I thought she said she blocked them all?

I move fast to close the space between us as she makes quick work of wiping away the evidence of her tears. She fails miserably. The wet might be gone, but her face is red and blotchy. The tip of her nose is bright.

She’s not a pretty crier. She’s a beautiful crier. Her emotion a story of truth written into glassy eyes and flushed skin.

I don’t think as I scoop her up into my arms, sitting on the edge of her bed as I hold her against my chest.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” It sounds like a lie.

“Olympia,” I press. “You’re crying. Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say, Tav.” She does her best to push away from my chest. I don’t let her. “I don’t know what this is.”

“This?” My brows dip as I scowl.

She huffs, her body deflating as though she’s just too exhausted to continue the fight. “I’ll give you the will. We’ll fly to Carolina today, and I’ll give it to you.”

My frown deepens. “I already told you I have a copy of both the original and the forged.”

“Then what do you want?” She cries, her red-rimmed, blue eyes searching mine with a desperation that has my heart slamming violently in my chest. “What is this—this new—you?”

And it all comes down to trust. I fucked up. This—her distrust—it’s the consequence.

She’d been a child when I left. She’d been the only innocent one in the fucked-up picture of my past. Yet, I’d set the weight of my anger on her to bear. It shouldn’t be a surprise she’s cracked under the impossible pressure of it.

“Get dressed.” I set her on her feet, pinning her with a firm gaze. “We’re going out.”

Her head snaps back as though I’ve given her whiplash. “What?”

“Wear a nice dress.” My eyes scan over her body. “I like that little blue one you got last week.”

I almost grin when she stomps her little foot, folds her arms over her chest, and pouts. “I don’t want to go out.”

Without thinking, I grab her around the back of her neck and draw her into my chest. Her arms fall away from her chest to land on mine in an attempt to steady herself as I drop my mouth to hers, invading.

She tastes sweet. She always tastes sweet, like apples. But this time, beneath the sweet there’s a bitter tang of grief I never want to taste again. Still, I kiss her like I might just devour her, until the fight spills from her and she relaxes against me.

Pulling away, I look down into her face in time to see her bottom lip wobble. She might have kissed me back, but she’s having a hard time processing her emotions. She’s having a harder time trusting me when I tell her all the games are done. Forgotten. She’s mine, and I’m hers.

“The blue dress for me, yeah, Princess?” I request as softly as I can.

She studies me for a long moment as she nibbles the corner of her lip, before she finally agrees with a nod. “Give me twenty minutes to fix myself.”

Palming the side of her face, my thumb drifting over her full bottom lip, I tell her, “You’re beautiful, Olympia. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” When she gasps, the magnitude of that statement hitting her hard, I kiss her again. A simple, quick kiss. “You steal my breath.”

I can see the thoughts whirling in her blue eyes as she watches me back away from her. When I hit the door, her hand drifts to her belly and I don’t miss the tremble as I remind her, “The blue dress, Olympia.”

She nods, whispering, “Twenty minutes.”