CHAPTER 84: IN THE VILLAIN’S EYES

Chapter EIGHTY FOUR

**KIERAN MORRISON**

Watching both siblings made my heart feel warm.

I couldn’t even fight a smile as I watched Oliver stick his tongue out at his sister.

Something twists in my chest, but it was majorly because he was too adorable at this moment and my heart kept tightening.

I wanted him to be just as carefree with me again. I wanted the light in those perfect green eyes of his to sparkle for me.

Just for me.

I could manage him sharing his affection with his family, but never with anyone else.

The easy way they argued, the way their mother smiled at them both - it was so normal.

So whole.

I studied their interactions unable to help myself.

So this was how families work when they weren’t haunted by ghosts.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been surrounded by laughter from my own family, even way before Ginny died, the wall of our mansion had always been cold, completely devoid of life.

Ginny has been the only source of light and laughter, and then Oliver. That was why even in hate, I couldn’t let him go, erasing him from my life meant losing everything.

I would go insane if he completely left.

I pushed down the pain that the memory of Ginny’s absence always brought.

This was the thing about grief, you never got over it.

Some days, you might even believe that it had gotten better, you felt better, and then suddenly, it felt like a sharp knife slicing through your heart, scraping it raw with pain all over again. And you sink even deeper than before.

At least, I had Oliver here.

And he was mine. That’s what mattered.

Mrs. West’s sister arrived with some movers.

Ollie and little pumpkin had gone to help with the packing of their mom’s and his sister’s things into the company’s truck.

I turned my attention back to packing Ollie’s things, my hands were steady even though my pulse was racing.

This had worked better than I’d planned.

’I said make it unlivable, not make it look like a war zone,’ My gaze surveyed the destruction in Ollie’s room with mild irritation.

I hated that the crackheads had destroyed something that belonged to him. Still, the excessive damage in his house served my purposes perfectly.

Vince.

I could imagine his shock when he realized that I’d taken his advice which he had probably meant as a joke.

I lifted a box from under Oliver’s bed, and my breath caught. Even though I had burned the picture the last time, he’d still kept the rest of the things.

He kept everything I had ever given me.

And it meant a whole lot. More than a whole lot, but these were the only words I could use to describe it.

Whether he acknowledged it or not, Oliver was just as obsessed with me.

He couldn’t hate me, he couldn’t forget me. He’d always known where he belonged, which was with me.

Inside the box were the things I recognized, a diary with a lock I’d bought him.

A necklace, small and silver, that matched the one I had hidden somewhere in my own room.

My fingers traced over the jewellery, and I slipped it into my pocket. Henceforth, he would have to wear it, just like I planned to make him wear everything of mine.

Continuing through his belongings, I mentally took note of everything he would need, down to the textbooks he’d need for studying in my room.

When I found his underwear drawer, I had to pause, gripping the edge of the dresser as inappropriate thoughts flooded my mind.

Not yet.

But soon.

I selected one of his boxers, bringing it briefly to my nose. It smelled like laundry soap, much to my disappointment. I wanted to smell him, taste him, just like I’d done back in my house.

I folded the piece of cloth, satisfying myself with the thought that soon my pretty boyfriend will be sleeping in my bed, and he will smell like me instead.

What we did earlier still felt like a perverted dream to him. His perfectly soft voice and the way he’d creamed on my fingers.

Even now, the memory of his hands on me made me hard.

I wanted more.

But I knew even more wouldn’t be enough until I consumed him entirely. The thought sent heat curling through my groin until it ached.

It was his fault for being so perfect, I craved him so much that all I could think of now was ways to insert myself permanently into their family dynamic.

His sister was my little sis now, and he was mine.

The sound of Oliver and Pumpkin’s laughter drew my attention back to them.

They were still bickering, but gently now, the way siblings do when they love each other.

The way Ginny and I used to.

I was done with Ollie’s things, as I walked downstairs, my eyes found his across the room, and even as I watched, his smile slowly faded.

His eyes held worry again, I knew it from the way his teeth gnawed on his lower lip as he watched me approach.

It was the same nervous expression he wore when little Pumpkin had asked about my sister earlier.

He should know that I felt no anger toward him.

Not anymore.

I just wanted him close. He should just remain mine.

After all, this was why I’d done all of this.

Oliver’s house was destroyed, which meant he had to stay with me and our relationship would finally move forward.

There was no more distance between us.

No more running, from both the past and our future.

-

-

The drive to my family’s house had been silent.

I had done everything on a whim, but thinking about it now, I should really consider getting my own apartment. I meant it when I said no more distance nor distractions, and this included my family.

This thought had formed when my Mom had stood by the entrance to our house to welcome Ollie. I didn’t even want her smiling at him, and it felt too fake.

She’d even gone ahead to fucking mention that she regarded him as a son.

The fuck.

Ollie wasn’t her anything.

He was just mine. It was as simple as this.

Just as we made our way inside my room, Oliver turned to me, his eyes sparkling with uncertainty. Fear.

Why was he afraid of me again?

I somehow knew exactly what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

"Kieran, we need to talk about it."

My palms started sweating, I might look composed and untouchable in his eyes, but at this moment, my heart was racing with something closer to panic.

We couldn’t avoid this forever. I’d known this conversation was coming.

"Before we can move forward with anything, we need to talk about Ginny." Oliver continued, his lips were trembling and his eyes were misty, just like it had been back in his house when he had tried to stop his sister from resurrecting the ghost that was trapped in both our memories.

A part of me wanted to run. To lock this conversation away and never let it see daylight again.

To bury Ginny’s ghost, another part of me knew that this was inevitable.

If I wanted all of Oliver—every glance, every breath, every thought, then I had to erase the past that had lived between us like a shadow.

I would have to tear it out, piece by piece, until there was nothing left to pull him away from me.

Until there was just me in his mind.