Surge (46 page)

“Olivia?” I ask and she shushes me. I’m tense and preparing for a wheezer to come popping out, but she starts making smoochie noises at the trees.

“Come on, Mori,” she says. And wouldn’t you know it, but Sarah’s prick of a black and white tabby, comes prancing out to her as soon as she called him. Olivia couches low enough to scoop him up with her free hand and snuggles his fur as she walks. “Did you have a nice hunt, baby? Lots of mice?” I can hear the purring from here, the asshole.

“When did he sneak out?”

“He didn’t sneak out,” Olivia answers as she opens the door. “He came with me to help keep watch.” I snort at that, since that cat is as lazy as they come, but Olivia just puts him down on the floor gently. “Go see Sarah, boy.” Morris rubs against her leg one more time, hisses at me, and bounces down the hallway.

“That cat is evil,” I say when he disappears. Olivia shoots me a disapproving look.

“Mori’s not evil, he’s misunderstood,” Olivia says and lifts her chin to meet my eyes. “You don’t like him, so was it you or John, that stomped on his tail earlier in revenge for a scratch?”

“Huh?” I ask.

“Earlier, I heard what sounded like someone was strangling a cat, so was it you or John who was abusing poor Mori?” I get it, so I start laughing, until I see her scowl.

“No one was doing anything to Morris,” I reply once my ability to speak returns. Olivia relaxes now that she knows no animal abuse was committed, but looks at me to explain. “That dying cat sound you heard, happened to be the extremely talented Kelly. You mean to say that you didn’t like it?”

“Fuck no!” Olivia exclaims. “I was preparing to come kill the mother fucker responsible, but it stopped before I had the chance.”

“That must have been when Kelly took her drunken tumble.” Olivia’s soft grey eyes turn to steel.

“Drunk?” Olivia asks in a raspy hiss.

“Yeah, she’s been getting drunk every night since you’ve locked yourself in solitary confinement.”

“My Jack?” Olivia growls and I nod. “That’s only for medical uses and occasionally numbing pain.” Liking the way that fire emerges in her eyes, I toss in some fuel to ignite anything that remains of the meek girl who was hiding herself from me.

“It was like she was celebrating or something,” I add and nearly smile when Olivia’s face flushes with pure anger. She’s fucking gorgeous any time you look at her, but furious? Olivia is a fire goddess, her black hair offsets the dagger throwing eyes; making them pop, so that’s why I throw in one last splash of lighter fluid. “Kelly was dancing and singing,
‘ding dong, the bitch is dead.’
”

“Oh the bitch is alive and kicking alright,” Olivia says and clenches her fists before looking at me. “Is her hangover what’s responsible for tying us over the last few mornings?” I nod and she smiles with what can only be anticipation. “Don’t you worry about her, I’ll handle it.”

“What are you gonna do?” I ask.

“Don’t worry, as much as I may want to kill her, I don’t harm innocents. Even if they are obnoxious bitches, who rupture the ear drums of unfortunate bystanders.”

“Damn,” I mutter and hear her laugh echo back to me, as she turns the corner.

<~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~>

I wake up the next morning to the smell of coffee. Knowing immediately what that means, I’m dressed and running to the kitchen to prove myself right. When I see Olivia singing at the stove, whipping up pancakes, and wearing an apron over her leather; I can’t help but smile.

“Morning, Jared,” Olivia says over her shoulder. “Coffee’s ready on the counter. Pour yourself a mug and sit, pancakes in five.”

“Morning, Livia,” I say and hop up on the counter with my mug already in hand. I set the second one aside for her to add whatever she likes to it. Next time I’ll know how she takes it, and make it for her myself. She glances at me and raises a single eyebrow.

“What? You said to pour a mug and sit.” I point to my mug and the counter I’m sitting on. “As you can plainly see, I am in fact doing both.”

“You’re a real smartass, you know that, Mouth?” Olivia asks, but I can see the blue flecks in her eyes that reveal her mirth.

“I believe that being a smartass comes with the territory of being Mouth,” I counter and she laughs. “Just like you wouldn’t be Lara without the attitude.”

“Or I could be Joan Jett,” Olivia proposes. “We both love our leathers, have black hair, and will kick ass when we need to.”

“Fine,” I huff, but she’s still my pocket sized Tomb Raider. “But you forgot the part about singing.”

“Duh, that’s a given.”

To prove her point, Olivia walks over and flicks a button on a battery operated radio. Drums and guitar pour out, before she starts singing Joan Jett and the Blackhearts’ “Do you wanna touch?” Two words, fuck yes. Especially when Olivia begins dancing and singing into her spatula, while shaking her braided head.
Beautifully rounded hips are still swaying, when John and Cory walk into the kitchen. John’s eyes are rounded as he takes in the gorgeous woman dancing and singing her way around the kitchen, while Cory just smiles with what appears to be relief. Olivia finishes the pancakes and dances her way over with the platter, nodding her head at the duo standing in the doorway. When the song is over, she flips the stereo off and carries it with her to the table. When John asks why, she said she has need of it, so we shrug and dig in.

<~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~><~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~>

“Those were delicious, Livs,” Cory says and pats his stomach. Olivia wasn’t kidding when she said he knew how to clear a plate, he finished four stacks of pancakes to my two.

“Are you sure?” Olivia asks with dancing eyes. “You hardly ate.” Cory and I laugh, but John’s too busy consuming his weight in carbs to join us. “I swear that I would kill to have your metabolism. I mean, if I were to eat that many pancakes, you’d have to roll me on out of here.”

“Please,” I say and wave a hand at her. “What could you possibly weigh, 90 pounds soaking wet?”

“One thirty-seven actually,” Olivia replies matter of factly. “If Akio were to break out his chart, that would be considered mildly obese for my height. So, don’t any of you tell him, or I’ll break your freaking fingers.”

“Obese?” I ask and she nods. “Who the fuck came up with that shit?”

“Anorexic Annie, that’s who,” she answers.

“Well, I think you look fan-flipping-tastic, so Annie can go to hell,” John comments as he pushes his chair back to accommodate his full stomach.

“Puh-lease,” she says. “You’re only saying that because you want more of my cooking.”

“Am I really that transparent?” John asks and we nod. “In all seriousness, Livia, you are fucking gorgeous, so feel free to stab anyone who tells you any different.”

She laughs at that, but pats John’s hand with her ungloved one. I look at it curiously, and see her engagement ring on it, but what I really want to see is her other one for a wedding ring. As if she can read my thoughts, she folds her hands on the table. Aha, no wedding ring, so she must just go by Travis’s name out of respect.

But then I remember what happened the last time I assumed something, and make note to ask later. Not that it matters really. Either way she is grieving for the love of her life, regardless if she gained the widow status or not. And even widows could care for another with time. That’s all I really need. I already care about her, so it would be nice if it were somewhat reciprocated.

“Speaking of people I should stab,” Olivia says and pulls her gloves on. Once they’re tucked inside her sleeves, she stands with her radio.

Walking over to her bag, she starts digging around, and comes out with a zippered case. Setting the case on the floor, she opens it and reveals pages of CDs. Olivia starts flipping through the pages until she finds the one she wants, and swaps it out with the Joan Jett disc. Hearing a guitar riff come blasting out of the speakers, she stands and air guitars her way down the hallway, singing some song I’ve never heard.

“I have to see this,” John says with a smile and chases after her.

Cory and I follow after him, and hear Olivia start singing something about a drunken whore and her party being over. Olivia continues singing as she dances her way to Kelly’s room, and kicks the locked door in on the chorus. Olivia goes over to the bed and flips Kelly’s snoring ass off of it, as she starts singing quietly. When Kelly’s still sleeping, even after being thrown off of the bed, Olivia starts screaming the end of the song.

“What the FUCK!” Kelly shrieks and sits up abruptly, to see Olivia grinning above her.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Olivia exclaims and smiles even bigger, when Kelly winces. “I heard that you’ve been having a little too much to drink, would you like to tell me why?”

“I don’t have to answer to you,” Kelly spits out. “You aren’t my mother.”

“Thank Jesus for that,” Olivia replies as she crosses herself. “Now, answer me.”

“Because I fucking felt like it, alright bitch?” Kelly asks.

“I feel like bitch smacking you right now, but as you can see, I’m not,” Olivia says with a shrug. Moving faster than I expected, she gets directly in Kelly’s face, who flinches back. “But the next time you want to get drunk off your ass, you get your own fucking booze, or I’ll drown you in mine. Understand?”

“W-what if I don’t w-want t-to?” Kelly asks in an attempt at false bravado.

“Want to what?” Olivia inquires.

“G-get my own,” she answers and gulps.

“Don’t test me,” Olivia hisses. “Because I’ve had enough of your shit, or do you need to spend another day in my trunk?”

“No, no I don’t want that,” Kelly replies as she shakes her head vigorously.

“Good, now get the fuck up, and be the first person in the van, or you will be riding with me; via my spacious trunk, where no one has to listen to you.”

“O-okay,” Kelly says and stands up. She makes no move to get dressed, just runs out of the room in her nightie with an armful of clothing. Olivia flashes us a smile.

“See, that’s all you had to do,” she says.

“Sing, shove her out of bed, and threaten her?” John asks and Olivia nods. “I’ll remember that. What was the song? I’ve never heard it.”

“Papa Roach’s ‘Hollywood Whore,’” Olivia responds. “Isn’t it perfect for her?”

“Absolutely,” I agree.

“I have one for Tommy too, but he’ll get to hear that later,” she says with a smile.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Theory of a Dead Man’s ‘Gentleman,’” she answers and I laugh.

“Tommy likes guys?” John asks in a bewildered tone, that makes me laugh even harder. “What?”

“Oh, John, you are so goddamn clueless,” Olivia says and pats his arm on the way by. “Isn’t it a wonderful morning, Cory?”

“Every morning with you is wonderful, Livs,” he replies as she kisses his cheek.

“You just love me for my cooking,” she whispers and he laughs. Olivia leaves us in the room, so they immediately look to me.

“What’d you do?” Cory demands.

“Apologized and had a splash fight,” I answer with an
‘it was nothing’
shrug.

“A splash fight?” John asks incredulously, so I nod. He shakes his head and mutters, “Freaking pansy,” as he leaves. Cory’s not so easily convinced, so he crosses his arms, and stares me down in wait of answers.