Page 10 of He Is Ours (Lovers in Crossfire #2)

Chapter ten

Olivia

I

don’t

know

what

I hate more—the situation, the men inside that casino, or the fact that a part of me still wants to trust Alex even after everything that happened to me.

But trust got me into this situation in the first place, so trust is not very easy for me right now.

Oliver starts to speak, his voice commanding as he lays out the next part of the plan.

He’s always been the one to take control of the situations we have been in.

To think instead of acting on impulse. Right now, I wish I had that ability.

Instead, my pulse pounds with rage, my fingers twitching at my sides, aching to do something, anything, to feel like I have control again.

And then Alex steps toward me, hand outstretched.

My eyes stare at his hand, and my breath catches. For a split second, my body betrays me, and muscle memory draws me toward his familiarity, the way his fingers used to anchor me, the way he once made the world feel a little less dangerous. My fingers almost move toward his.

Almost.

But then the moment shatters, my mind going back to the auction, and I take a hesitant step back.

His face doesn’t change much, but I see it— the flicker of hurt in his eyes and the slight tensing of his jaw.

The ghosts of all the unspoken words linger between us.

I should feel victorious for keeping him at a distance, for proving to myself that I don’t need him, but all I feel is something hollow and aching in my chest, the missing piece of my heart.

Why can’t my mind make up what it wants to do?

Why is this situation so difficult? Oliver was right when he said that Alex is not his grandfather, but why can’t I get past it? Why is there still an ache in my chest?

Then, I notice movement next to Alex, and Rachel steps forward, offering her hand to me. I grab it. No hesitation. No uncertainty. I take it without even thinking twice.

As soon as I have her hand in mine, I feel secure.

She’s steady. Familiar. Safe. She’s been with me through the worst of it, and right now, I need something solid to hold on to.

Something that won’t slip through my fingers like everything else has these past few months.

Every good thing that has happened seems to be falling apart, and she is holding my jagged pieces for me.

When my fingers close around hers, I feel Alex break behind me. It’s not just something I imagine. I hear his breath falter, feel the shift in the air, the weight of his presence retreating.

A part of me screams to turn around, to see if he’s still standing there, to see if I’ve finally cut the last tether between us.

But I don’t.

If I do, I might lose the last shred of resolve I have left.

I can’t let him back in. I can’t risk it.

Not when I still don’t know if he’s the one I need to escape from.

Not when I still don’t know if I’d even want to.

Oliver’s words repeat in my mind, but the what-ifs won’t let me go.