Page 37

CHAPTER 37

O live stepped inside the house and glanced around, waiting for trouble.

But there was no one in the kitchen.

She paused. This place looked just like it had nine years ago when she’d lived here.

Dark wood cabinets that were too ornate to be in style. A subway tile backsplash and dark-green granite countertops. Beige tiles stretched across the floor. A bay window bumped out from one wall. A wooden table that had been outdated when Olive lived here, but was now even more outdated, still nestled against those windows. Even the curtains were the same—dark blue with a yellow striped pattern.

Memories hit Olive of her dad making blueberry pancakes for her and her sisters. More memories of sneaking in this back door late at night. Living here had been the beginning of Olive’s rebellious phase.

More than once, she’d been caught and grounded—but that hadn’t stopped her from doing what she wanted.

Her disobedience had caused her mom some stress. A pang of remorse ached in her chest. Olive now wished she could take that back. But hindsight, as the saying went, was 20/20. She couldn’t go back and make life easier for her mom, but she’d always regret that.

The floor squeaked beneath her, and Olive snapped back to the present.

She’d gotten too caught up in her memories. She needed to keep moving, to remain on guard. After all, this door had been left open.

What if it had been left open on purpose?

Steeling herself to search the rest of the house, Olive crept through the kitchen and eased into the dining room.

She swung around the doorway, gun raised, searching for signs of life.

There were none.

She stepped back into the kitchen and headed into the living room.

Again, more memories filled her. Memories of family movie nights with popcorn. Memories of having her sixteenth birthday party—her first guy/girl affair. Memories of her dad arguing with those men in the middle of the night and then denying it.

Olive paused near the front door and glanced up the wooden stairway. The bedrooms were located up there.

She wouldn’t leave here without checking them out.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, a creak sounded above her.

Her breath caught.

Someone could be in the house.

If so, Olive needed to figure out who.

Olive briefly considered calling backup.

If someone was inside this house, she didn’t want to battle them alone.

But that would require calling Nova, and Nova was in no position to protect her.

Olive had no one else to turn to right now.

This wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous assignment, so she hadn’t thought she’d need backup.

And just because Olive had heard a creak upstairs didn’t mean she was in danger. Maybe it was the wind. They’d had a few strong gusts today, after all. The breeze could have knocked something loose, and that could have been the sound she heard.

She’d never know unless she checked it out.

One way or another, Olive knew she’d head upstairs. There was no need to delay the inevitable.

Gripping her gun, she started up the first step.

She walked slowly, quietly. The stairs didn’t make any noise beneath her. Plus, she still remembered where all the creaks were. She’d become an expert when she’d lived here.

She reached the top landing and paused. If she went right, she’d reach the primary bedroom. To her left was the hall bathroom and two smaller bedrooms, the one closest to her being her old room, and the other being where the twins had slept.

Olive considered her options before heading right. She’d check out her parents’ old room first.

Carefully, she pushed the door open.

She scanned the inside of the room. A king-sized bed stretched in the center of the space with an off-white coverlet over it. A large dresser and a chest of drawers lined two walls. A standing mirror was positioned in the corner.

Olive glanced at the reflection to see if it showed anything she couldn’t see from where she stood.

It didn’t.

Still, she carefully walked around the edge of the room. She paused at the primary bathroom.

Instead of flinging the door open, she opened it quietly.

She wanted the element of surprise to be on her side.

But the bathroom was empty.

She blew out a breath.

This room was clear. But the flashes of memories she kept experiencing might be the most dangerous thing of all. This place represented all she’d lost—her mom, her dad, her sisters.

Her childhood.

Her family hadn’t been perfect—not even close. But she felt like a different person now, a much lonelier person.

Shoving those thoughts aside, Olive moved on to the hall bathroom.

The small space had no place to hide. It was clear.

Then she checked the twins’ bedroom.

To her surprise, the pine bunk beds were still there.

An uneasy feeling filled her. Other people had lived here since her family, right? Although, the neighbor did say no one had lived here since he moved in three years ago.

This place hadn’t been abandoned for nine years. What sense would that make? The house was perfectly sellable, perfectly livable. There was no reason for it not to be lived in . . . unless there was more going on than met the eye.

Her uneasiness grew.

Carefully, she walked across the floor and slid open the accordion-style closet doors.

The space was empty.

She let out another breath.

Her muscles remained tense as she waited, expecting someone to pop out.

But so far, those fears were unfounded.

Only one room was left.

Hers.

Perhaps this was the room Olive dreaded seeing the most.

Because this room would remind her of the last normal year of her life.

By the time she’d reached sixteen, she’d known her family was anything but normal. But living here and being with Jason represented a sweet time in her life, nonetheless.

After leaving Oasis, her family had been murdered.

Life as she knew it had been over, never to return again.

The house back in Indiana . . . it had been torn down after four people were murdered there. No one wanted to live there after what had happened. So Olive had never revisited the memories there—not that she’d want to.

This was the first time she’d ever gone back to one of her childhood homes.

She wasn’t sure this was such a good idea. But she wasn’t turning back now.

Olive swallowed hard and opened the door to her room.

Her lungs tightened again.

It was almost like this place had been left as a shrine.

She clearly pictured herself sitting on her bed doing her nails. Listening to Taylor Swift. Talking with Jason on the phone.

Her mind kept getting swept back in time, filling her chest with a distinct bittersweet feeling.

Then another creak sounded.

The next second, a shadow lunged at her from the darkness.