Chapter 2

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Olivia Denver's POV:

I point at my right knee. "This was just the beginning too." I show him my bruised left knee and both elbows.

"Oh no. I'm so sorry." He puts the file on a shiny brand new treatable and runs to me. He cleans my left knee with antiseptic and sticks a band-aid. He looks at my elbows with a puppy face. "I wonder what shape the car is in."

"There's no car anymore. It went into the ocean," I state the details plainly. His face turns pale. "I'll buy you a car back with my salary," I say comforting him.

"That's not it, Olive. That car was Sarah's favorite," he says in a disheartened tone.

"Then I'm happy it's gone." I smile ear to ear.

He throws the wet cotton in his hand on the floor and walks away.

"Hey, one elbow is left," I call out loud.

"I've shown you how to do it." Comes his voice from the kitchen.

Very well. I can do it myself. Anyways his touch was doing some weird sensations in me. I finish the laborious task in a minute. Taking his file from the tea-table I read it.

5 girls and 1 male chef were killed around 3 AM. All had their throat slit with a kitchen knife. No fingerprints were found of others except the restaurant staffs and girls at the party. So a killer should be among staffs only. Cops arrested Danny Brown tagging him as a serial killer.

"Hey, Brownie. How did you get out?" I ask out loud.

"Can't you read English?" he yells from the kitchen.

Huh! Brownie being Brownie. I read further and catch it in just a second.

There was only one staff left, the chef. When he saw girls getting killed, he hid somewhere and called Brownie. When he arrived at the restaurant, the chef and others were dead already. Cops arrested him but he proved that there was no point in slitting throats with a knife when he had a gun in his hand.

Reverse psychology but proves the point. He got fined for keeping an unlicensed gun. And after spending 3 months the cops let the case slide down tagging it as closed. But with no killer found, Brownie's image still stays greyish in the cop's eyes.

He walks to the dinner table behind couch I'm sitting on and arranges the food. "World still doesn't believe you're innocent," I say, feeling pity for him.

"Do you believe me?"

"Yes, I do."

"That's enough for me."

My eyes well up and with a lowered gaze I walk and take a seat beside him. Opening the lid of a bowl I see my favorite delicious noodles. I raise a fork but put it back as the elbow's cut sends a painful wave.

He takes the fork and feeds me with it, in silence till the last bite. His saddened face makes me feel a little heavy in my heart so I stay silent too. "You like it, right?" he asks.

"No. I love it." I smile. His face lightens up too.

He starts eating after I finish my food. I still stay seated and stare at him. After a few bites, he turns towards me. "You're finished. Go sleep now." I don't move. "You know Sarah used to do the same."

I jolt up on my feet and stomp to my designated sleeping area: The couch in the hall. He finishes his food quickly and goes into his bedroom. "You should sleep here, Olive."

I obviously don't plan to do the 18+ thing with him until I get treated at par with Sarah. So I deny politely, "I'm not going to sleep with you."

"You're wounded so you should sleep here. I mean not with me but beside me," he explains. I still don't leave the couch.

"I think you're weak in Prepositions, Olive."

"I'm not doing any positions with you, Brownie."

"Unha! Then why don't you shut that door too." He points at his bedroom door.

"Cause I wanna stare at you all night."

He puts his pillow towards the end of the bed nearer to me. And he lays flat on his belly looking at me. "Have I ever told you? You're weird in a cute way," he says smiling.

"That sounds so illogical."

"It's love, not logic."

I send him a flying kiss that he catches in mid-air and places it on his lips. I smile still staring at him. I doze off after a while. But I bet he must have been up all night planning an actual kiss.

As soon as my eyes get open, I see a pillow hovering in front of my face. Just a little push and I'll be killed as side characters of any movie: Pillow over the nose while they stay asleep. "Don't kill me," I yell.

"Shut up, Olive. It's me." Brownie raises my head and puts the pillow under it.

"I was saying it to you only." I chuckle.

He scowls and picks the case file. "Listen. I think I can help you. I'll get you in touch with a cop so you can investigate Spencer's case."

"No cops. Agency rules." I say flatly.

"He's my friend so we'll invite him for dinner and have a chit-chat. He won't know we're investigating." He raises his eyebrows. I nod positively.

"But we will have to cook a good dinner." He says stressing on we.

C'mon, He is your friend coming to your home for chit chat with you, Brownie. Why would I burn my hands cooking for him? I raise my hands and show him my bandaided elbows.

"Okay. I'll cook. Anyways, the breakfast is ready. Go freshen up."

"You can go to the restaurant. I'm not that unwell," I inform.

"You sure?" he asks. I nod. He leans towards me and gives a peck on my forehead. "Take care. Olive," He turns and pads.

Didn't I say earlier he must have been planning an actual kiss? 

Are you alone? No. We're together. (Book 3) ✔️Where stories live. Discover now