Oliver (Project Arma Book 7)
Oliver: Chapter 22

Tori was bombarded with familiar scents the second she stepped through the door. Cinnamon, clove, nutmeg…maybe even a hint of vanilla.

Home. That’s what it smelled like.

She stepped left into the living room, which opened to the kitchen. The space was small but homey.

So many memories hit her at once. Of her mother standing by the stove cooking dinner. Watering the potted plant by the window, which was now wilting. Even Charlie laying by the fire on cold winter nights.

This was where she’d grown up. And bit by bit, she was recapturing those memories.

Once the nostalgia settled, Tori took note of the state of the place. It was trashed. The coffee table was turned over, the beige couch slashed so severely it would be impossible to salvage. Even the cupboard doors in the kitchen had been pulled from their hinges.

An unexpected rage blasted through her veins.

A strong arm snaked around her waist as Oliver came to stand beside her. “You okay, honey?”

She should probably be sad that her belongings were destroyed. Belongings that had mostly been chosen and bought by her or her mother. She wasn’t. She was furious. So damn furious that her skin tingled with the desire to hurt the person who did this.

“Why did they have to destroy everything?” Was shooting her into a river not enough?

Oliver pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “If your body had been found in the river, they probably wanted it to look like a murder-robbery.”

Well, they would have achieved it. “I wish you guys had been here when they’d done this.” If anyone could have stopped them, it was Oliver and his team.

“I dream about that shit,” Kye muttered as he stepped into the room.

He and Wyatt had done a quick sweep of the house before she’d come inside. That’s how she’d already known she wasn’t going to like what she saw. Their faces had been tight with barely concealed anger.

She hadn’t asked about Charlie yet. She’d been too scared of the answer.

“Was he…” God, she couldn’t even say it. “Is Charlie in there?”

Her bedroom was behind where Kye currently stood, the door closed enough that she couldn’t see inside. His features softened. “No.”

No? So they moved Charlie’s body?

She walked slowly to the bedroom, feeling Oliver’s presence behind her. Sure enough, when she stepped inside, Charlie wasn’t there.

For a moment, she didn’t know what to think. She was relieved that his body hadn’t been left to rot. But where was he? “Do you think he survived?” Her heart soared at the possibility.

“It’s very possible. We can check with the park rangers and local shelters.”

That was something. A small sliver of possibility that he was alive.

For the next half hour, the four of them searched her family home. She found photos—so many photos—of her mom, of Samantha, of Charlie lounging in the sun. Everything of true value to her was unharmed. And nothing else had been taken.

When every room had been thoroughly checked, she stepped back into the living room, feeling an odd combination of elated and defeated. She’d regained a ton of memories, mementoes…even her family home. But at the same time, had found, and remembered nothing to help the search for Hylar.

Tori hugged her waist. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything helpful to you guys.”

Oliver was in front of her in seconds. Wrapping his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

She smiled as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He’d been doing that a lot today. Kissing her here and there. Light touches. She wasn’t about to question it. She needed every one of them.

Then his gaze shot up to the ceiling, his jaw visibly tensing, before he quickly looked away.

Strange. He’d done that a few times in the last thirty minutes. Turning her head, she followed his gaze to the air-conditioning vent.

When she turned back to look at him, and he didn’t volunteer any information, Tori had to ask. “What is it?”

He sighed. “There are cameras in your air vents, honey.”

What?

Tori studied the spot where he’d just been looking. The vent was positioned in the center of the ceiling.

She moved underneath it. She couldn’t see—

Her breath hitched in her throat. “No.”

“Tori…”

Ignoring Oliver’s warning, Tori grabbed the last remaining unbroken chair and positioned it underneath. She shrugged off Oliver’s hand, not sure if he was trying to stop or help her, but not wanting to take a chance on the former. Once she was stable, Tori studied the vent again.

She saw it. And her blood ran cold in her veins.

“I’m going to kill them.” Her voice was low but deadly.

Oliver ignored her attempt to brush his hands away, instead taking hold of her waist and lowering her to the floor. When she attempted to pull away, he tightened his hold. “Tori—”

“I want to know if there’s more.”

She saw the tick in his jaw before he released her. She grabbed the chair but it was swiftly taken from her hands by Oliver. He followed her as she walked past Kye and Wyatt into the hallway. Shoving it under the air vent, she climbed up to study it.

Sure enough, there sat another camera, so small, and positioned so discreetly, it was almost invisible.

Without a word, Tori climbed down and systematically checked every vent in the house.

Cameras were everywhere.

She intentionally left the bathroom until last, not wanting to believe she’d find one there.

Climbing onto the edge of the tub, she studied the ceiling fan, ignoring Oliver’s curse as he steadied her waist. When she spotted the camera she was looking for, Tori’s mouth dropped open.

Even here? While she showered or lay naked in the tub?

This time, she didn’t resist when Oliver lowered her to the floor. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession. She felt both angry and violated. “They watched me in here? And in my bedroom…”

Nausea welled in her stomach.

Oliver tugged her back into the bedroom. His hand went to her chin, tilting it up, waiting for her gaze to meet his. That’s when she saw it. The anger that mirrored her own. The outrage.

“I want to murder them for it. For touching your life at all. They would have done it because you were close to Samantha. To make sure she didn’t say anything she shouldn’t or question anything they didn’t want her to question.”

It made sense. It all did. It didn’t make her feel any better.

For about the hundredth time that week, Tori wished she knew where her friend was. Whether she was safe. She leaned into Oliver, absorbing some of his strength. “Do you think we’ll find Samantha?”

“We’ll do everything we can.”

That wasn’t a yes. But it was the best he could do. She doubted he wanted to lie to her, but he couldn’t say what she wanted to hear, either.

Her gaze went back to the ceiling. “Do you know how long it’s been there?”

Samantha had been working for Hylar for years. She didn’t want to think they’d been watching her that whole time.

Oliver stretched his arm up. The man was so tall, he easily reached the small camera, yanking it down.

The second the camera was released, liquid sprayed into Oliver’s face.

His big body immediately dropping to the ground.

He’d barely hit the floor when the shattering of glass sounded from the living room.

A cry escaped Tori’s lips as she dropped to her knees beside him. Oh god! His body was so still. Was he even breathing? “Oliver? Wake up! Please, wake up.”

Nothing. Not a flicker of movement. He was out cold.

A war raged from the living room. The sound of fists colliding with skin, bodies being thrown to the floor. It was loud, echoing through to the bedroom, shaking the very walls.

Her desperate fingers clinging to his shirt, shaking his still body. “Oliver, you need to wake up! They’ve found us. Please!” Her words were coated with panic. Not panic for herself. Panic for him. That he was vulnerable. Unable to defend himself.

“He can’t hear you, love.”

Tori jumped to her feet and spun around. Ice trickled into her veins. “Adrien.”

She positioned herself in front of Oliver. To anyone watching, her attempt to shield him would look ridiculous. But an overwhelming need to protect the man she loved consumed her.

Adrien took a step forward. Tori’s muscles tensed as another man showed up behind him.

“Anthony, you grab Oliver. I’ve got the girl.”

No…

The two men moved forward at the same time. Tori kicked a leg out as Adrien went to grab her. He caught her foot easily. She quickly followed it up with a punch to the throat. He blocked that too, spinning her body around, holding her tightly against his front, an arm against her throat.

“Don’t fight me, girl. I’m already angry about the tranq.” His arm tightened, cutting off her air supply. “If it wasn’t for Hylar, I’d be killing you right now.”

Black dots began to obstruct her vision, her chest rebelling, screaming out for air. She was moments away from passing out when his arm suddenly dropped, causing Tori to fall to the floor.

Before she had a chance to recover, she was tossed over Adrien’s shoulder. She could just make out Oliver beside her, hanging over Anthony’s shoulder.

Adrien began to move. Tori kicked her legs out. Punched the man’s back.

Nothing.

She lifted her head as he stepped into the living room. Violence and chaos. The room was flooded with it. Wyatt and Kye were fighting for their lives, outnumbered two to four.

Kye glanced up in time to see them stepping out the door. She heard his deep growl even after she was carried out of sight, into the late-afternoon sun.

When Adrien’s feet hit the driveway, Tori’s heart began to pound. If they got her and Oliver in the car, who knew where they’d end up—or if they’d ever be found.

She needed to make a last-ditch effort.

That’s when she noticed the sheath on his hip—and what looked like a knife handle. The guy must have forgotten about it. Or assumed Tori was too scared to act.

Reaching down, she yanked the knife out of the sheath.

“What the—”

Tori plunged the sharp knife into the back of his thigh before quickly yanking it out. Adrien cried out, dropping her onto the driveway.

Air whooshed out of her lungs as she hit the ground hard. Ignoring the pain, Tori pushed to her feet. She’d only taken a step when fingers tangled in her hair.

Pain cascaded through her head as she was thrown several feet, the knife dropping from her fingers.

Her body collided with metal. A van. Their van.

She’d barely pushed to her elbows when she was yanked up by the arm. A fist immediately hit her in the face. Her head reeled back.

This time, she barely felt the pain. She barely felt anything. Her head felt light. Cloudy. Her legs wanting to give way but an unyielding hand continued to hold her up.

Adrien moved his face so close to hers, his breath brushed her skin. His features swam in front of her. “Next time you stab me, I stab back.”

The edge of a knife pressed against her stomach, tickling her skin.

“Do you understand?”

Her eye felt heavy. She knew she was minutes away from passing out. But when the knife pressed harder, just piercing her skin, she finally found her voice.

“Yes.”

“Good.” The knife vanished and she was carelessly thrown into the back of the van. Adrien climbed in after her, while Anthony got in the front.

When the van began to move, Adrien lifted a phone to his ear. “Disengage. We got them.”

Oliver’s body lay still beside her. She reached out her hand and touched his arm.

I’m sorry I couldn’t save us.

She could only hope she’d get the chance to say those words out loud.

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