Olivia's Curse

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"It's one thing to dislike my aunt and what she did. It's another thing entirely to try to frame me for murder."

Ryan's suggestion was ridiculous. Why would someone try to lock me up for what my aunt did? And why would they be willing to murder Daniella to accomplish it? Sure, Ryan wanted to punish me or whatever. But, at least he wanted to do it for something I did. If I had tried to hurt Daniella, I would deserve it. Regardless of the supernatural reasons beyond my control.

"Let's just go back to the antique store, talk it out, and take me to the police station."

"It's your funeral," Ryan muttered. Rolling his eyes, he walked toward the car. "But we need to change first. My powers only work to a certain extent, and I can only disguise you, not me. If we change, it will throw the scent off a bit and hopefully, we will make it there without being seen."

I was back to where I'd been before we spoke to Daniella. My mother's words be damned, I wanted the police to find me. I still didn't trust Ryan. Not one-hundred percent. He could turn on me at any moment. The police wouldn't hold me for long because they couldn't completely disregard Daniella's statement.

"Here." Ryan threw something, and it hit my chest. Acting on impulse, I caught it before it hit the floor. It was a beige trench coat; the kind where you weren't sure if someone was wearing clothing beneath it.

"Seriously?" I scoffed.

"Unless you'd like to strip in the middle of the carpark?"

I withheld a groan. "Fantastic."

Hilariously, Ryan had one to match. Once we pulled our arms through the sleeves, we stood in the carpark in matching ridiculous disguises.

"Ryan, you really need to work on the whole incognito-thing." I laughed.

He ignored me and pulled bags out of the car boot. There were seven in total.

"We can't leave them here," he explained. "Not just because we wouldn't have any supplies, but they'd have a lot of questions."

I nodded, but it was pointless because his back was turned.

"I'll take five. Do you reckon you can manage two?"

"Yes," I replied with a flick of my hair. "I'm not completely useless. I can carry two bags."

He turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, you're not completely useless. If we need to make a campfire, I'll let you know."

I scowled. "Whatever."

That was how we ended up strolling through town in matching stripper trench coats and covered in duffle bags. We couldn't have looked more conspicuous if we tried. We took the back alley route, which only amped up the hilarity. Two sixteen-year-olds, wait, teenagers because Ryan wasn't even my age, marching down dark alleyways with getaway gear. If the coats were black and made of leather, I'd have made a matrix joke. Keanu Reeves would have been proud.

"You forgot the sunglasses," I quipped. "Then maybe people would think we're famous."

Ryan refused to comment.

I was right: the walk was lengthy and took about forty minutes at a brisk pace. The hospital was on the other side of town and it was a miracle we made it to the antique shop without bumping into anyone I knew. The police were probably at mine or Ryan's house. With a bit of asking around they had no doubt discovered his identity, and our houses were so close that it was the first place they'd look.

"I can't believe that worked." I dropped the heavy bags to the floor and slumped into a dusty chair. The seat looked like a heap of crap to me, but it was probably expensive to the right buyer. I'd never understood antiques.

"Me neither," Ryan admitted. "But I'm glad it did."

I let my eyes wander around the room. The shop was in disrepair. I wasn't sure how long Ryan's family had owned it, but it must have been a while. No one had been inside for a long time.

I voiced my thoughts. "How long have you had this place?"

Ryan let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a chuckle. "A while."

"That's not very specific." His evasion only made me more curious. "How long is a while?"

I swore I saw Ryan wince. "Sixteen years, give or take."

Until Ryan spoke, I'd been struggling to remove the trench coat, but at his words I paused, tangled in the material. "What?"

"we have planned this for... a while." He avoided my gaze.

I yanked my arms out of the coat sleeves and placed my hands on my hips. "What do you people have, some kind of Olivia radar or something? What kind of freaky shit is this?"

He refused to look at me. "Something like that. It's more of a curse radar. We know exactly when you'll be born, what you'll be able to do, etc. It's not just you, it's everyone like you."

"But if you knew when I'd be born and the circumstances..."

I didn't need to finish my sentence. Ryan bit his lip and finally looked up. In his green eyes shone regret.

"W-why didn't you save them?" I stuttered. "You, you knew what Auntie Olivia would do, and you did nothing."

"I was two years old, Olivia."

"But that's not the point!" I shouted, waving my arms in the air. "Your... your people could have saved thirty-nine innocent lives, and they did nothing!"

Ryan stood from his seat and paced the room. "It's not that simple, Olivia. We can't interfere. It's not our job."

"I thought your job was to protect the world from people like me? Surely that includes protecting it from every incarnation of my soul."

I'd already seen the terrible things Ryan, and people like him, could do. But this... this was the worst of all. And he had the nerve to call me the bad guy.

"Our role is to help you on your way to becoming better. We don't hope that you'll fail." He paused in his movements to let out a terse laugh. I didn't see what was funny.

I dropped my gaze to the floor. "I can't even look at you right now."

"Olivia, just listen..."

"No," I interrupted him. I didn't want to hear another word. I was right not to trust him. "I need some space."

"Olivia, you're not being fair."

"Doesn't feel nice when someone doesn't hear you out, does it?" I replied bitterly, climbing to my feet. The silence that followed was deafening. "I'm going to the bathroom."

I didn't turn to look at him as I left the room. Probably because I worried that he'd use his magical bond crap to beat me into submission. But, mostly, I knew that I wanted to hear him out. Just a little. And that meant he'd broken down a few of the walls I'd built over the years.

It was time to build them taller. Brick by brick.