Page 83 of Curse

I open my mouth to say something, anything, to get closure, maybe figure out what the fuck is actually happening right now. But I close it again, frozen.

I feel numb, like I’m moving through molasses as I join Olivia at the door, the only sound the slap of my flip-flops.

As much as I hate him, I can’t believe this is really it. I can’t believe it’s over.

41

Siena

We make our way down the hall and out into the chilly night air. Olivia’s golf cart is parked nearby, and I slide into the passenger seat as she tosses the duffel bag into the back.

“I brought your things,” she says brightly, settling into the driver’s seat.

“I don’t have anything,” I reply, frowning.

“Of course you do,” she counters, giving me a quick smile. “Your cute dress, that hat and jacket, and all the books we read together. You’ll want them for your shelf, right?”

Her gentle tone does little to settle my nerves. I glance out across the sprawling estate, my thoughts churning. He basically confessed to playing a role in the death of Mikey and Emily, but he didn’t say what he did or why. I’m also deeply confused as to why he’s so fucking irate over that flash drive. How ironic would it be if the damn thing Matti wants so desperately is tucked away in that duffel bag, and I’m being sent off with it?

Olivia pulls onto the path, zipping along at a brisk pace. Thefog rolls in thickly, soft tendrils licking at the dimly lit trail. The weather is growing colder, the air crisp yet suffocating. It’s hard to breathe.

“Don’t worry,” Olivia says as we pull up to the tarmac, her voice a mix of reassurance and nonchalance. “He can be a moody fuck, but this isn’t over.”

“What if I want it to be over?” As much as I hate him, I know that that’s not true even though it probably should be, but I don’t seem to have much of a choice. At least I can pretend for a moment that I do.

Ahead of us, a private jet looms in the darkness, its engines roaring. Tiny lights outline the runway, barely cutting through the dark.

She leaves the golf cart idling as she hops out and grabs the duffel bag. Without a glance back, she strides up the stairs into the plane. Not knowing what else to do, I follow.

Inside, the luxury is staggering. White leather armchairs are nestled intimately around polished marble tables, glowing under soft ambient lighting. Rich cream-colored wallpaper with gold accents covers the walls, and heavy gold-trimmed curtains frame large windows.

Every detail screams wealth and control, from the staff area outside the pilot’s cockpit to the glossy wood door at the back of the plane.

Even the staff is luxe. A stewardess glides toward us, her sleek blonde bun pinned with a golden chignon pin. She’s dressed in an immaculate white pencil skirt and blouse, cinched at the waist with a gold belt. Her matching earrings catch the light as she smiles and greets Olivia with a soda water and cucumber and hands me one as well.

“Thanks, Kayla,” Olivia says with a grin. “But can we getsomething a little stronger?”

Kayla’s expression is regretful but playful. “Ooh, sorry, Olivia. Orders are orders,” she says with a wink and walks away.

Olivia flops into a chair, her long legs draped over the armrest as she sips her drink.

I sit tentatively on the edge of the seat beside her, leaning in close. “Where the fuck are we going?” I hiss.

Olivia sighs and shrugs, looking almost apologetic. “Nowhere interesting, unfortunately.”

I frown, confusion mounting. “Home? Like, my house in Jersey?”

“Yep,” she replies, leaning in conspiratorially. “Matti asked me to bring you clothes while you were sleeping—by the way, you look great in my stuff—and when he told me you were going home, he suggested I go with you.”

So, they’re her clothes, and he asked her to accompany me. “Why?”

Olivia scrunches her forehead at me. “Why? Because you’re one of us.”

“Olivia, he’s literally kicking me out right now.”

“Who cares about Matti?You’re mine.” She leans in close, glowering at me darkly like the men in the books we read, and then bursts out laughing. I can’t help but laugh along with her.

Kayla comes by, taking our drinks from us as the engines roar and the plane begins to taxi. My protests falter as we hurtle down the runway, the sudden acceleration stealing my breath.

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