♣ Chapter 15 ♣

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          For the umpteenth time in this house, I awaken to bright light, wincing as I shade my eyes. Looming over me is a very concerned Oliver, lines etched into his forehead. He takes my hand in his and smiles.

          "Hey," he says.

          "Hi," I say. Sitting up in the bed, I realize that I am back inside my bedroom, my packed suitcases stacked in a corner near the closet.

          "How are you feeling?" Oliver asks.

          "My shoulder feels like hell," I say, wincing as I try to roll it. It pangs with a throbbing pain. Man! Shelby really had a good grip on me. "Was I out for long?"

          "Just a few hours."

          "Where's Shelby?"

          His face hardens and he gives my hand a squeeze. "You don't have to worry about her. I've taken care of everything."

          I lean my head back on the bedhead and exhale sharply.

          "Did you find anything?" he asks, looking desperate for the answer to be 'yes', which it actually is.

          Should I really tell him? I don't want to endanger his life as well. He's only just lost his sister, and the same sinister man in the attic will kill him if I say anything. I don't want to have him die by his hands as well.

          But then again, at the very least I know I can trust Oliver, unlike Vincent who only lies over and over again and insists that he's only trying to protect me. If he really is trying to protect me, why hasn't he told me himself that his brother is in the attic? Why isn't he the one here trying to protect me instead of his best friend? Why?

          I have decided that I should confide in Oliver with a slight nod to myself.

          "You were right about everything. I can't believe that he's been lying to me all this time," I say.

          "So...he really is up there?"

          "Yes, and he wants to see me again tomorrow," I whisper, afraid that James may have some way of finding out that I'm telling Oliver everything. He almost tried to kill me and I wouldn't put it past him to do it again, especially based on what I've heard about his background.

          I can't believe I put myself in danger because I was so curious about what Vincent has been hiding behind closed doors.

          But something else bothers me as I think about all that has been revealed. Is Shelby in on it, too? Does she know that James is living up there? And is she aware that he's the one responsible for Amelia's death? She's been warning me all the same as her employer, so she must know something.

          Most importantly, do the other employees know, too? They haven't alerted the authorities about Amelia's death up to this point, and I have a feeling that they won't be involving them anytime soon. I have to do something.

          No, you do not! My conscience bites back. This is what got you into this mess in the first place.

          I sigh, rubbing my temples as a mini headache erupts in the front of my brain.

          "Your neck," Oliver's voice breaks me from my train of thought. "It's bruised. Did he hurt you?" Oliver inspected the marks on my neck, running his rigid fingers along the purple bruise. His face flushes with anger as his brows turn down. "I'll kill him."

          I place my hand on his arm and smile. "Thank you very much for being concerned, but I don't want you to get involved in this. You might just get yourself killed," I say.

          "I'm already involved," Oliver states. "That asshole killed my sister. If he wanted to get away with this, he should've killed me, too."

          "Oli, you shouldn't say things like that out loud," I whispered. "Who knows if he can hear you or not? I don't want him granting your wish."

          "Megan, if it's a fight he wants, then let him come at me."

          "Oliver, stop it. This is serious."

          "I am being serious!" he protests. "All I'm trying to do is protect you."

          "I don't need any protection. I can take care of myself." I sigh, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "I need to talk to Vincent first. He knows more about all of this than both of us." I frown. "What time is it?"

          Oliver glances at his watch. "It's a little past eight. Why?"

          "That's strange. He said he had an important meeting to attend, but I didn't think it would take all day. He left since this morning and I'm beginning to get worried."

          "I'll see if I can find out if he's still at work," Oliver says. "You get some rest. I'll be back in a few."

          "Thank you," I tell him before he stands, places a kiss on my forehead, and hurriedly leaves the room. I feel the heat rush to my cheeks as the feeling of his lips on my forehead still remain. I try my best but fail at suppressing the bright smile that appears on my face.

          Oliver really does care about me and my safety, and he really tries his best to be there for me whenever I need anything or whenever something happens to me, and for that, I'll be eternally grateful.

          But then my mind drifts to Vincent. The man who claims he loves me and wants to spend the rest of his life with me, but if he wants that, why would he barefacedly lie about important things, like his brother, and the fact that he's a renowned serial killer that is still alive and hiding in the attic of this house?

          That's not someone I want to live the rest of my life with.

          A nauseating feeling floods my head and my stomach begins to grumble. For me, that mixture isn't exactly really nice. I decide to slide back down and lie in bed so that I can get a little rest and rid myself of this nausea. I close my eyes and soon drift off to sleep.

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Wakes at the beginning and falls asleep at the end. Is Megan the most tired person you've ever met?

Sometimes, I do the opposite during a lecture, though, so... 😂

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★ MARDAIS ★

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