Chewing my nail, I stared at the same twenty lines of code in frustration. I'd been combing through it for a while and had been ready to start pulling out my hair because I couldn't seem to spot the error.
"Ugh, so damn tedious ," I growled, eyes narrowing at the monitor.
A buzzing came from the left side of my keyboard and I briefly glanced at the cause of the noise–my phone. Distractedly I grabbed for it, slapping my hand around on the desk until I felt it. I slid the button over before holding it up to my ear.
"Yeah?" I spoke into it, my focus still mostly on my work.
"Olivia, hey, it's Malcolm," Malcolm greeted.
I frowned, he sounded out of breath. I looked at the time in the corner of my monitor and my eyes went wide. I had technically been off work for two hours now. I had been so distracted with what I was working on, trying to solve the problem, I hadn't even noticed it was late. And also very dark in my apartment.
"Shit," I mumbled, beginning to exit out of the programs. "What's going on, Malcolm? Why do you sound like you're working out?"
He let out another grunt before he answered. "I was about to go work out, but I found Jessica."
My brows creased in concern. Yesterday, Jessica told me she was finishing up her case for Luke. Neither Malcolm and I had heard from her all day, but it wasn't too concerning. Until she still wasn't home this morning. Or all day.
I pushed my chair out from the computer desk, abruptly rising to my feet and flipping on a light.
"Please tell me you're not carrying her lifeless corpse," I half-joked.
"That's only partially true," he said between grunts.
"What happened? Where are you?" I asked frantically.
"Relax, she's okay," he told me. "Or at least, mostly. I found her trashed in the elevator. Worse than usual."
"I'm on my way," I told him, darting towards my front door. "Can you get her into her apartment?" I asked him as I struggled to slip my shoes on one-handed.
"That's what I'm trying to do," he panted out.
"Okay, I'm leaving my apartment right now," I told him. "I'll be there soon."
I hung up my phone and quickly grabbed my keys before swinging the door open. I locked it behind me on my way out, briskly darting down the hall to the elevator. As I waited for the elevator to rise, I turned and looked down the hall. My eyes landed on Matt's front door. I hadn't heard from him since he checked on me two nights ago and our night had ended…interestingly. Not a call, a text, or another late night visit through my sixth floor window. My heart sank but I tried to push it away as the doors to the elevator opened behind me.
"I'm the only one who understands you, little dove."
I winced as his voice carried through the empty elevator, my finger roughly pushing the button for the lobby.
"You're mine."
"Not real, not real," I mumbled to myself as my hands balled into fists at my sides.
I flinched at the feeling of a hand brushing lightly down my spine. My eyes closed shut and I wrapped my arms tight around my chest, my heart racing beneath my arms.
"You're not here!" I growled.
The doors opened with a pleasant ding and when I opened my eyes, ready to bolt through the lobby, I was met with a middle aged woman standing hesitantly at the threshold, eyeing me uncomfortably.
I bolted past her and mumbled an apology before I began almost sprinting out of the building and into the cold night. The chill against the bare skin of my face grounded me as I walked the few blocks to Jessica's apartment.
I swung open the door to the lobby of the building, almost running straight into the auburn haired woman I'd seen last time who'd hissed at me. This time she abruptly grasped my arm, eyes wide and pleading as she looked up at me.
"Have you seen my brother?" she asked, her voice wavering. "Have you seen my sweet Ruben? He's been missing since last night."
Tears started to well up in her eyes as she gripped me tighter. I frowned, trying to pull my arm away.
"No, I haven't, sorry," I told her, finally freeing my arm from her grip.
"If you see him," she called out as I headed towards the elevator, "I'm in apartment 6A. Tell me, please! He-he can't be on his own!"
My frown deepened as I entered the elevator, watching as the woman exited the building presumably in search of her missing brother. I pushed the button for the fifth floor and ran a hand nervously through my hair as I waited to reach Jessica's floor.
Shortly after, I was making my way once again down her hallway towards her door. I could hear panicked whispers from inside. I knocked against the glass lightly and waited, noticing how the whispers stopped suddenly.
A moment later the door opened a small fraction and Malcolm's face appeared. He looked pale and terrified and immediately I was worried.
"What's wrong?" I asked as I pushed past him.
He shut the door behind me swiftly as I made my way in. I spotted Jessica leaning against the side of her fridge in her kitchen, blood on her hands. I froze in place, fear rising in my stomach at the sight of so much red.
"Jessica? Are you hurt?" I called out to her.
She shook her head before her eyes darted to the door just a bit farther ahead of me to my right. Her bedroom. Slowly I walked forward and peered into the room. I clapped a hand over my mouth, stilling the scream that almost made it out.
There in her bedroom, on her bed , was the brother that had been missing. He was lying on his back with his head resting on a pillow, a sharp red line across his throat and one of Jessica's kitchen knives in his hand at his side.
I looked away, stepping back into the living room and stumbled into the desk behind me. I struggled to inhale a few shaky breaths before I could even speak.
"Did…" I swallowed hard, trying to meet Jessica's eyes. "Did Kilgrave do this?"
She nodded slowly in response. One finger raised and pointed towards a bloodied shoe print about the exact size of Kilgrave's foot by her bedroom door.
"Jesus… why ?" I breathed out. "Shit, his sister is downstairs looking for him!"
Jessica started to breathe heavily, throwing her hands on her head and suddenly doubling over. "I can't–I can't do this," she gasped out, shaking her head, panic rising in her. "I can't keep fighting him. I can never get ahead."
I rushed to her side as she began hyperventilating, grasping her shoulders and trying to calm her down.
"Hey, hey," I said quickly, "just breathe. You need to breathe, Jess." She continued to gasp for air, her eyes flying around the room wildly. "Jess, relax. You didn't kill him. Breathe. Just breathe."
"Right…right," Malcolm said quickly. "We can…I'll call the police right now," he said, digging for his phone. "We will stop this right now."
"You can't call the cops!" Jessica whispered harshly.
"The evidence will point out that you didn't do it," Malcolm urged. "This won't be on you."
"It's the…third death that I'm connected to," Jessica stuttered out between pants.
"She's right…" I agreed slowly. "Hope's parents and now Ruben? Here, in her own bed?"
Malcolm slowly lowered his phone to his side. He glanced back at the bedroom and winced. "So what do we do?" he asked.
Jessica took a deep breath, calming down abruptly. I removed my hands from her shoulders warily, eyeing her carefully.
"I'm going to end it," she said blankly.
"End what, your life?" I asked her anxiously.
She paused before answering, "There's another way to end it." She shuffled over to her laptop at her desk, stumbling a bit as she walked. "If I go to the right jail, I can end it."
Malcolm and I exchanged shocked expressions.
"No," I told her firmly.
"Jess, you didn't do this," Malcolm told her again.
She began typing away on her laptop and I slowly made my way over, peering over her shoulder at the screen. She was searching for the highest level security prison and my brows furrowed.
"What the hell?" I whispered, looking up at her.
"It's a high tech mouse trap," she explained in that blank tone she'd had since calming down. "I'd be the bait. To get to me, he'd have to use his powers. He couldn't compel someone through seven layers of security. And then there'd be footage-evidence of what he can do."
"That's assuming he does come for you," I whispered.
"He killed a man in my bed," she shot at me. "I think he might."
"No, this is insane," I told her.
"We have nothing else and I can't just keep sitting here while he kills more people because of me," she snapped, her eyes narrowing at me. "Can you?" She turned her attention back to the laptop, typing away again. "There's already a detective who's suspicious of me because of Hope's case. Just need to find his name."
"This is ridiculous," Malcolm said, throwing his hands up.
"Look, I think we can–"
My phone ringing interrupted me and I stopped mid-sentence. Jessica kept typing away as Malcolm turned his attention on me. I slid the phone from my pocket and looked down at the screen. At first I didn't recognize the number; it wasn't a contact saved in my phone. But as I stared at it longer it started to look familiar.
And then it hit me.
"It's him," I said, my hand beginning to shake.
Malcolm froze, eyes wide as he stared across the room. Jessica's typing stopped and her eyes slowly rose from behind the screen of her laptop.
"Kilgrave?" she clarified.
I nodded, swallowing the fear rising in me. "I recognize the number. It's the one I have to…text a photo of myself to every morning," I said softly.
"Don't answer it," Malcolm said immediately.
"I have to," I told him. "He might just keep calling. And what if he hurts someone else because I ignored him?"
I ran a hand down my face slowly, trying to collect myself. Then I slid the button on the screen and accepted the call. I pushed the speakerphone button and sat quietly, eyes glued to the device in my hand as if it was personally responsible for Ruben in the other room.
"Hello, Olivia," the distinct British voice rang through the room.
I tried to keep my breathing even but I didn't respond.
"Oh come on, no need to be rude," he whined. "It's been so long since I heard your beautiful voice." He paused, waiting. He let out an irritated sigh when I remained silent before he continued. "I know you're at Jessica's. I take it you haven't found my present."
My jaw dropped as I exchanged an exasperated look with both Jessica and Malcolm.
"Present?" I asked incredulously. "You call a dead body a present?"
"Oh, that," he responded, sounding rather bored. "You know he was quite annoying. Childish, really. I was doing you both a favor getting rid of him. Talked too much." His voice had an edge as he said, "And he… complimented you."
I laughed; it was a dark, humorless sound. "So you killed him? An innocent man. Fuck sake, Kilgrave, what is wrong with you ?"
"You know I don't like it when others look at you, little dove!" he snapped roughly. "He had no right!"
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to remain calm.
"Don't call me that."
He tsked a few times over the line. "Now you're just being unreasonable. Look, you clearly didn't find my present. I left it on the kitchen counter. I would have left it at your own place," he told me and my blood ran cold at the thought of finding Matt pale, throat slit lying dead in my bed, "but I currently haven't been able to find where you live. Thanks to your…command."
I frowned. What command? I hadn't told him that when I'd seen him the other night; he wasn't even supposed to remember that night. The only other time was…years ago. There was no way that he was still under that command…right?
"Nevertheless, I figured Jessie would make sure you found it," he finished.
My eyes met Jessica's across the room. Her lip pulled back in a sneer at his words and his flippant use of his nickname for her.
Malcolm was searching the counters for a moment before suddenly stopping. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand and picked up a small black box wrapped in a purple ribbon. He turned around and held it out with a look of obvious disgust on his face.
"Well?" Kilgrave prompted. "Don't keep me waiting. Have you found it?"
"Yes," I answered grudgingly through gritted teeth.
"And have you opened it?"
Malcolm handed me the box and I reluctantly accepted it from him. It was about the size of my palm and a few inches tall. It felt fairly light but I eyed it skeptically.
"I don't trust you didn't put poison or a bomb in there," I shot back.
"Olivia," he said, drawing out my name as if I'd made a funny joke. "Don't be absurd. Open the box."
I grimaced before setting my phone down on the end of Jessica's desk. Carefully, I untied the extravagant purple bow, slipping it off with the name card that had 'Olivia' written in elegant script. I tossed it aside on the desk and stared at the box in my hand for a moment, hesitating. Very slowly I began to slide the lid up, as if a rattlesnake would somehow spring from the little container and bite me.
Inside of the box was an average and very normal looking key and a smaller, black velveteen box. I swallowed hard, my hands beginning to shake even further as I set the box down and grabbed the smaller one. I bit my lip and opened it slowly.
It was an engagement ring; a beautiful platinum band with a massive three carat diamond in a pear cut. Along the entire length of the band were diamonds glittering in the dim light of Jessica's apartment. It was easily an expensive engagement ring worth thousands.
I felt sick to my stomach looking at it.
"Well?" Kilgrave prompted anxiously.
"It's a ring," I said flatly.
He huffed at my response. "It's an engagement ring, little dove," he corrected. "Now I'm not exactly proposing–far be it for me to believe you'd say yes right now, especially after we've been apart so long–but it's a promise. Of my intentions with you. I'd rather propose in person in a more…romantic setting. But that key is to a house. And before you say anything," he continued swiftly, "I bought it fairly from the family. Offered them a cash offer a few hundred thousand over its actual value. They were quite happy about the entire transaction."
I snorted in response. "And what do you want me to do with it?"
"Well, come live with me, of course," he answered as if it was obvious.
I blanched at his request, my eyes shifting to Jessica and Malcolm who'd been exceedingly silent through the entire phone call so far. Jessica looked disgusted and Malcolm looked pale with fear.
"I don't think I want to," I answered him.
"Ah, well," he answered slowly. "I know I can't make you. That's sort of the whole point. I want you to choose to. At least for a few nights."
I cringed at the thought of knowingly sleeping under the same roof as Kilgrave. There was a time, years ago before I really knew him for who he actually was, that I used to feel safest when I was with him. He saved me, protected me. But now I'd witnessed enough of his truth to know who he really was–a controlling, murdering psychopath.
I paused, my head tilting to the side as a thought suddenly struck me.
"I'll…think about it," I answered him cautiously.
Jessica abruptly rose from her desk, shaking her head back and forth like I was insane. Malcolm paced in the kitchen, running his hands through his hair and staring across the apartment at me like I had grown a second head.
"Great!" Kilgrave exclaimed. "I'll text you the address. But, and I feel this needs to be stated," he said seriously, "there is a failsafe in place if anyone but you shows up. Or if you don't show up alone. Understood?"
"Of course there is," I mumbled.
"Well, little dove, I'll see you when you come home," he said warmly.
The line went dead.
I sat on the edge of the desk, running my hands over my face as I tried to fully comprehend the evening.
"What the hell ?" Malcolm shot at me. "First she wants to intentionally get arrested and sent to supermax prison," he said, snapping a finger in Jessica's direction. "Now you want to go and play house with him?"
"I'm with Malcolm on this," Jessica told me. "This is stupid and you know it."
"I don't want to," I ground out. "But let's just weigh out the options we have. Option one: Jessica somehow goes to prison? Which, by the way, could take awhile. And then we hope he goes after her? Currently he seems focused on me. Or option two: I go to him."
"And what does that get us?" Jessica snapped.
"Well," I began, nervously chewing a nail, "I'd know where he is. Something we currently don't know. I could keep an eye on him, see what he's getting up to."
"But you'd be alone with him," Jessica countered immediately.
I raised a finger as I reminded her, "He can't control me though."
"Unless he drugs you!" she pointed out.
"Okay, okay," I relented. "So I don't eat or drink anything he offers." I tapped my nails against her desk for a moment as I thought. "I could try to get more information about his parents…maybe try to get more information about the experiments. Or his powers."
"How?" Malcolm asked skeptically.
I shrugged. "Shared trauma. He thinks he's the only one who gets me, and I think he believes I understand him for the same reason. If I play the part convincingly enough…maybe I'll get something we can work with."
"Or maybe he kills you," Jessica growled.
I let out a low sigh, rubbing the heels of my hands against my eyes.
"I'm not saying I want to do this," I assured her. "But if I go to him, I might get something we could use. In the meantime, maybe…maybe you should go to that survivors group," I suggested carefully, my eyes briefly darting to Malcolm and then back to Jessica. "Maybe see if anyone might have other information. About his powers or his parents. Or places he frequented. Because once he realizes I'm not genuinely choosing him, he's not going to just sit at that house and wait for us to attack him again."
Jessica crossed her arms and began to pace behind her desk. The room fell silent for a minute as my eyes followed her movements. After a bit she stopped.
"How long would you go there for?" she asked.
"A couple of days?" I answered her hesitantly. "If I can stomach him for that long. Maybe longer, I don't know."
Jessica turned and scrutinized me with narrowed eyes. It wasn't that long ago that she was having a panic attack from the stress of all of this. I knew she was close to losing hope that we could get out from under him.
"You should really think this through," she told me.
"You cannot be serious!" Malcolm shot in disbelief. "This guy is dangerous and you want to go there alone?"
"I'll go under the pretense that…maybe he is the only one who understands me," I told them, planning it out as I spoke. "That we do share a past. That might be believable. Let him trust me a bit."
"I still don't think you should do it," Malcolm warned me.
I turned my attention on Jessica, my brows raising in a silent question.
"If you…think it'll work…and you're willing to try it," she said carefully, "then maybe it's worth the risk. We have nothing else to go on right now. And if I am immune, or able to be again, to his powers we need to find out how. See if it can be replicated for others."
"Or if there's a way to take his abilities away," I agreed. "Maybe find a way to prove what he can do first though…for Hope. And get him locked up and vulnerable after."
A slow, viscous smile spread across Jessica's face. "He'd rot away, useless in a cell."
Malcolm huffed as he walked across the room and gestured towards the bedroom.
"What do we do about…about him," he asked quietly. "We can't leave him there. And we can't call the police."
"We'll…have to get rid of him," Jessica said slowly, her voice faltering. "I can't leave him here. The cops will arrest me–which would be fine if I went to a higher security prison–"
"You're not going to prison for something you didn't do, Jessica," Malcolm snapped.
"Then we…dump him," Jessica said. "Into a dark alley. Tonight. The cops will think a mugger did it."
My stomach twisted at the thought. Anxiously I began chewing my nails again, staring down at the floor. "I don't like this," I told them nervously.
"We don't really have any other options!" Jessica snapped.
"This is just so wrong," I replied, eyes meeting hers. "His sister is looking for him. Right now."
"Do you want to explain to her that a man used his voice to mind-control him to kill himself and see how she takes it?" she shot back. "They'll arrest me. And if Kilgrave wants me bad enough, you know the police won't be able to stop him. This is on us and you know it. No one else can help us."
Grudgingly, I nodded. "You're right," I admitted quietly. My eyes closed shut, a sting of tears growing behind my eyelids. "I just…this feels wrong ."
It was almost six in the morning when I stumbled into the elevator in my apartment building, pushing the button for the sixth floor. I dragged my hands across my eyes; they were burning from the lack of sleep.
Jessica, Malcolm, and I had spent the evening trying to discreetly dispose of Ruben's body in a back alley, making sure we left none of our own DNA in the area or on his body. The sick to my stomach feeling I'd had since I'd gotten to Jessica's apartment last night hadn't left me once; if anything I was feeling worse as time kept moving forward.
I had reluctantly accepted the fact that later this morning I would be packing up and heading to the address Kilgrave had texted me shortly after our phone call. My plan was to request some time off of work when I got to my apartment, take a very long, hot shower, and pack a few things before calling a cab. The address for the house was outside of the city in a nice suburb. I figured I'd nap in a cab on the forty minute drive. If I could even manage sleep after what had happened.
The elevator doors opened, the noise sounding louder than usual to my tired ears. Sluggishly I shuffled down the hall, digging into my jacket pocket for keys. When I reached my door, I tried three times to get the key to go in the lock, but I couldn't line it up. Frustrated, I threw a hand forward, roughly slapping the door before I exhaled deeply and rested my forehead against it. I closed my eyes and tried to hold back the sob fighting its way up my throat.
"Are you…okay?"
My eyes snapped open at the voice. I pushed off of the door and turned, finding the person who'd spoken.
It felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs and my stomach kicked up out of my throat. A beautiful woman was exiting Matt's apartment, the door half-closed between her hands. She was wearing one of his button up shirts and her hair was damp as if she'd showered there this morning–as if she'd stayed the night with him.
"I'm–I'm fine," I lied, my voice cracking as I spoke.
The burn of tears was hard to ignore now, and I clamped my mouth shut to fight down the strangled noise that had partially escaped. The woman's brows softened as she took a step towards me. I shook my head quickly, waving her off with a hand. I turned around abruptly and tried to get the key in the lock again. I just wanted to get inside my apartment and disappear.
"What's going on?"
At the sound of Matt's concerned voice I hastened my attempt to unlock the door. My heart was pounding fast and hard in my chest now.
Stupid, stupid. Of course he wouldn't wait around for me. I'm not special.
"Your neighbor," the woman answered, "she seems upset."
There was a moment of silence when I finally got my key in the lock before Matt spoke.
"I can handle it, Claire," he said swiftly. "I'll…talk to you later."
As I swung open my door, I heard her let out a sigh before she walked off down the hall to the elevator.
I rushed into my apartment, turning around immediately to shut the door, but Matt was standing in the way. His hand darted out so fast I barely realized he'd pressed it against the door, preventing me from closing it. His face was contorted into an expression of confusion and worry, his brows knitted together and his eyes were darting around my face.
"Olivia?" he called my name softly. "What's wrong?"
"Leave me alone, Matt," I said, choking on a sob.
His face softened instantly as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
"I said leave me alone!" I roared at him. "You're a liar and I can't believe I was so stupid to believe you!"
He advanced towards me but I held out my hands, pushing against his chest.
"Olivia," he tried again, his face twisting from hurt. "What? What's wrong?"
"You get me to tell you things about myself," I choked out, anger and hurt mixing in my words, "things I haven't shared with many people. Personal things. And you–you make me trust you, care about you. So you can what?" I growled. "Get me to sleep with you? Make me think you're different so I let you in? All the while you're still bringing women back to your place?" I let out a harsh laugh. "I live next door to you, Matt! You can't exactly hide it."
Relief washed over his face instantly. "This is about Claire?" he asked me. "Olivia, no, it's not what it looked like."
"How is a woman leaving your apartment at six in the morning wearing your clothes and freshly showered not what it looks like?" I snapped.
"She's a friend," he said slowly, gently. His hands reached out to carefully grip my shoulders, my own still pressed against his chest trying to keep him at a distance. "Claire found me about a week ago, nearly half dead in a dumpster. She's a nurse at Metro General Hospital," he continued, voice soothing and calm. "She helped stitch me up another time since then. But unfortunately, some bad people figured out she might be connected to me. Last night they went after her. Abducted her," he explained, his hands tightening on my shoulders as he did. "But I found her; took care of those men. She was hurt and scared and her place wasn't safe, so I let her stay at my apartment last night. I let her wash up and borrow some clothes so she didn't have to be covered in blood wandering the city. That's all, I swear."
Hesitantly, my hands slid down from his chest. I roughly wiped at my face, glancing down at my feet feeling embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled out. "Sorry, I'm such a–"
"Hey, stop," he whispered, slowly pulling me in towards him and wrapping his arms around me. "I can see how it looked like that. But I wasn't lying, Olivia. I'm only interested in you." He nuzzled his face into my hair and whispered, "I just want you."
I carefully slid my own arms around his waist, burying my face into his chest as a few stray tears began to fall. I still had to leave to stay with Kilgrave soon and I knew I should probably tell him.
"Why are you coming home at six in the morning?" Matt slowly asked into my hair. "And you smell like…blood. And…death." Abruptly he pulled me at arm's length, his unseeing eyes scanning me all over. "What happened last night? Are you okay? Where were you?"
"I'm fine," I assured him. "Physically, at least," I added on. "I've been at Jessica's the majority of the night. When I got there we saw that…Kilgrave he…" I paused, throwing a hand up to my mouth, unable to bring myself to tell Matt what had happened and what we'd done. Shame and guilt burned inside me.
"What?" he asked sharply. "What'd he do?"
"He…he killed one of Jessica's neighbors," I confessed, my voice just above a whisper. Matt's hands tightened on me. "Forced him to slit his own throat in Jessica's bed because he–he annoyed him. Because he–" I winced, my heart racing again.
"He what?" Matt urged.
"He complimented me," I choked out. "To Kilgrave. And he got jealous so he killed him." I buried my face in my hands, tears freely pouring down my face now. "We couldn't go to the police so we…had to dump him…in a back alley."
I could hear Matt breathing heavily beside me now; his body had gone rigid.
"You did what ?" he ground out.
"If we told the police, they'd arrest Jessica," I told him, my voice muffled by my hands. My words continued to spill out fast as I tried desperately to explain the situation. "She didn't kill him–though she was prepared to turn herself in, try to get into a supermax prison. So that Kilgrave would be recorded compelling people to let him get to her. Malcolm and I couldn't let her do that, and since the police wouldn't believe a man had compelled Ruben to kill himself–not that we can even go to them, they're helpless against Kilgrave–we had to dump the body." I was breathing heavily, shaking and digging the palms of my hands into my eyes. "If Jessica and I end up in prison, there's no one left who can stop him. We didn't see any other way."
I slid my hands over my face and through my hair, tugging slightly at the strands as I looked back at Matt. He had an unreadable expression on his face.
"I feel so disgusting ," I told him. "I can't believe I did that. He was an innocent person, he didn't deserve what Kilgrave did to him and he sure as shit didn't deserve to have his body dumped in a damn alley like he's garbage. And his fucking sister is looking for him." I turned, slamming my fist into a nearby wall. "Fuck!" I growled, feeling the panic and anger rising in me. "I fucking hate him!"
Matt was suddenly beside me, very carefully pulling me into his arms and holding me against him. One of his hands was caressing the back of my head as he whispered into my hair.
"It'll be okay, that wasn't on you," he told me. "You can't blame yourself for what he does. You can't control it."
"That's not all," I whispered.
Matt slowly pulled me back from him, a frown deepening on his face. The hand that was caressing the back of my head slid forward and he began to gently wipe away the tears from my cheeks.
"What else?" he asked quietly.
I swallowed thickly at the sudden dryness in my mouth.
"He'd gone there to leave a…a gift as he called it," I said nervously. "He called me."
"He has your number?" he asked roughly, his eyes narrowing.
My eyes shut at his question. Of course he didn't know that, I had conveniently chosen not to tell him about the new arrangement.
"Yes. He made a deal with me, so to speak," I admitted. "In exchange for leaving Malcolm alone, he wanted me to send a picture of myself at ten every morning. I've…been doing that the past few days."
I could see the muscles working in Matt's jaw as his face contorted to a look of rage. His hand around my waist roughly gripped the fabric of my shirt.
"And you didn't tell me this?" he asked me, his voice dangerously low.
"I didn't want you to worry," I said quickly. "It was to help Malcolm. They're just selfies, nothing…nothing inappropriate. It's harmless enough, if disgusting."
"So he called you?" Matt pushed out through gritted teeth.
"Yes, he told me he'd left the…gift at Jessica's because he wasn't able to find out where I lived," I continued. "I think it might somehow be from when I compelled him to never look for me all those years ago. Somehow I think he literally still can't."
"And what was the gift?" he pressed.
I grimaced, feeling the weight of the box still in my coat pocket.
"A key," I said softly. "And a ring."
Matt's nostrils flared as he ground his teeth.
"An engagement ring," I clarified.
"He's forcing you to marry him?" he growled, his hand on my waist now bruisingly tight.
"No," I answered him quickly, lowering my hand over his. His grip loosened. "But he said he bought a house. Said he bought it fairly, at least–didn't compel anyone. And he wants me to stay with him for a few days."
" No ," Matt snarled instantly.
Roughly yanking me to him, Matt wrapped his arms tight around me. I twisted in his embrace, sliding one hand free and gently cupping his cheek. His eyes snapped shut at the touch, his mouth thinning out into a firm line.
"Matt," I said gently. "I have to."
" No ," he snarled again. "I'm not letting you. He's dangerous and I will be damned if that monster places a single finger on you. No ."
"It's just a few days at most," I assured him, stroking my hand down the side of his stubbled cheek. "We have no leads on him. If I go, he can't hurt me. He can't control me. And maybe I can find out something that we can use, some sort of vulnerability or something."
He lowered his forehead to my own, resting it gently against mine. His arms pulled my body tighter in towards his until our chests were pressed so hard together I could feel his own racing heart against my chest.
"I can't lose you, Olivia," he whispered.
I shook my head lightly, our foreheads rubbing softly together at the movement.
"You're not going to," I promised him.
"Don't," he begged me, his plea so quiet I wouldn't have heard it if our faces weren't so close. "Don't leave me."
"I'm right here, Matt," I told him, lifting my face up towards his as I spoke. "And after I deal with this, once this is all taken care of, I plan to still be right here. With you."
His eyes remained closed, a pained look on his face. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out heavily, a mix of anger and fear radiating from him. My fingertips ran along his right temple, gently tracing their way down his face to his chin before I carefully leaned in and placed a kiss against his cheek.
"You would do the same," I told him quietly. "If there was something only you could do that could help save others. No matter what the risk was to yourself, and how much I wouldn't want you to, either. You would do the same."
He exhaled slowly, lowering his forehead to my shoulder, burying his face into my neck. His arms somehow squeezed me tighter.
"I wish you wouldn't," he murmured against my neck.
"It's not that I want to, it's that I have to, Matt," I told him, running one of my hands through his hair soothingly. "I have to do this. And if things are…ever going to be more between us, we have to find a way to trust each other with these things." My nails lightly scratched against his scalp and down the back of his neck. "I worry about you every time you go out as the man in the mask, too."
He stiffened against my body, his muscles tightening. "But he's hurt you," Matt growled out.
"And I'm going to make him pay for that," I answered, voice dark as my hand ran back through his hair.
After a few minutes I felt him relax into me before he lifted his head from my shoulder, his eyes sightlessly scanning my face. Closing the distance between us again, hands resting on my hips, he nuzzled against the side of my face affectionately. I smiled faintly, my arms sliding up his back and holding him firmly in place.
"Please come back to me," he whispered beside my ear, vulnerability evident in his tone.
"I will," I promised, turning to plant a lingering kiss on his forehead.