Page 52 of When Hearts Unravel (The Orchid #6)

Olivia’s eyes snap toward mine, her hands still on my shoulder. A myriad of emotions appear in her eyes—shock, confusion, disbelief, understanding, anger, and finally…betrayal.

“What?” she rasps. “What did she just call you?”

My eyes flutter shut and I focus on the pain in my shoulder and chest, because the alternative is unbearable.

If my Olive didn’t decide to give up on me before, she sure as hell did just now.

“Casey, I’m so sorry,” Ava wails, her blond hair falling over her eyes, as she grips my arm.

“I-I just knew something was going on. When I saw the news of you almost getting shot and an attempted kidnapping in Greece, I knew shit was up. I pulled up all the videos of the incident. I’m not an idiot.

It looked like a hit. And then, you didn’t go back home and instead stayed on this cruise.

It made no sense. Shit was going on. I had a feeling. ”

Oh, Ava. I try to pat her hand to console her. I don’t blame her. Raya was brutally murdered by The Association. As her daughter, of course she would be livid.

I only blame myself for not knowing she was spiraling.

Her lips tremble, her watery eyes imploring me to believe her. “I planted a bug on your phone with my text message—”

I shudder, my fingers turning into ice. “The damn birthday card,” I rasp. “I should’ve known.”

Ava nods. “I picked up bits and pieces of what you were planning. And when I saw the photo of the woman,” she glances at Bree, “I sent it to someone I knew back at home. Someone I trusted. They said she was a Caruso. Gabriella Caruso. A-And I just went nuts.”

She looks up, her face wet with tears. “It’s been so hard.

The Association is always onto us. Cora would get scared at the most random noises.

She’d jump when someone knocked on the door.

We’ve had people tail us, take photos of us.

We can never get out. It’s like they want us to know they’re watching, that we’ll never be safe. ”

“It’s okay, Ava. I don’t blame you.” Sweat drips down my forehead as I slowly sit up and lean against the wall.

Bree kneels next to me, her lips trembling. “I’m sorry, Rex. You were shot saving me.”

A weak chuckle snakes past my lips. I cough.

“No. You saved me,” I whisper.

I stare at her face, the image splitting.

Atonement. That was the whole purpose of this mission, right? Bree survived. The Association’s mole is dead. I don’t hear anymore gunshots, so I assume the assassins sent in earlier are either dead or apprehended.

We just need to hold out for Elias’s people. I’m sure he’s sending over reinforcements.

But the victory is hollow.

A chill settles in my body and I’m woozy.

Olivia doesn’t need to tell me, but I know. I’m losing too much blood.

I look at the woman I love. She’s quiet. Too quiet. Her gaze is focused on my wound, but I see a vein pulsing in her temple, a new tension bracketing her mouth.

She’s worried, scared, and…furious.

Ava murmurs, “I just thought if I could just kill one of the bastards, maybe I’d feel better and I wouldn’t miss Mom so much. I would have avenged her death. And these bastards wouldn’t mess with us. It’s stupid, I know. I wasn’t thinking.”

She buries her face in my lap, and I gently sweep my fingers through her hair.

Does any of it matter anymore? Why she did what she did? How I got hurt and how I might bleed out tonight?

How the truth…my most shameful truth I’ve hidden from everyone, has finally come to light?

Olivia knows now. The ugly truth. The extent of my madness.

“Olive.” Her nickname comes out in a shaky exhale. “P-Please, I want to explain everything. I-I—”

“No.” She shakes her head and this time, when I look down and gaze upon her face, I see tears pooling under her eyes, her nostrils flaring. “I need to focus. Need to stop the blood. Dammit, where’s the ambulance?”

Quickly, she swipes away her tears with her arm. But then, her eyes fill again and she mutters to herself, “Fuck. Stop it. Stop it, Olivia.”

Agony twists inside my chest, far more painful than the bullet wound.

Seeing her cry for me, at me, her anger at herself for not reining in her emotions, something she was very good at before being with me, I want to bash my head against the wall or dig my fingers into my bleeding wound to show remorse.

She’s innocent. I dragged her into this because I couldn’t stop my selfishness, because I wanted a taste of her starlight, because I wanted the peace only she could give me.

I told myself I’d protect her.

Delusions. They were delusions of a drugged-up, sleep-deprived man.

“Olive.” I shiver. Fuck, it’s cold. My fingers tremble as I clutch her nape and pull her head down so our foreheads touch. “I’m sorry for not telling you. Lying by omission. P-Please, listen to me. If I don’t make it—”

“Stop!” She shakes when I caress her face. “Save your energy. Survive this, then we’ll talk. I-I’m so fucking mad at you—”

The wail of sirens echoes against the walls, followed by flashing lights.

Then, I see the vans, then the crowds.

Reporters, cameramen, more chaos.

Tick-tock.

Time’s up.