24: Well, We're Off Now

I still don't know what we're doing. Sketchy.

I'd texted Sarah, who was thankfully still awake due to her insomnia. She came right over to look after the twins while I went out with Oliver to who knows where. Sarah had a key so I wasn't worried about her getting into the house without me there. I felt a little guilty about leaving the twins, but I didn't want to be alone. And if I wanted to accept it or not, Oliver made me feel safe.

I nervously rub my hands together and I look to Oliver. He's been quiet the whole ride and I don't want to be the one to break the silence. He told me to do as he says, and he hasn't exactly said I'm allowed to speak. So, I stay quiet but am antsy in my seat. I want to know where we're going so bad.

After some twenty minutes of driving he finally parks the car in front of a house I recognize. I've been here before, several times. But that was way back when I still had two parents and lived a neighborhood away. I look from the house to Oliver then back to the house.

I'm afraid to speak, not wanting him to get mad, but my surprise and curiosity takes over.

"Oliver, why are we at your house?"

I look back to him. His face is stone cold and he's staring at the house being me with a hateful glare. His knuckles are white as he squeezes the steering wheel tighter as the seconds pass. I wait for him to respond but he doesn't, and I take it as a sign that I should keep my mouth shut too.

After a couple of minutes of hateful glares towards his mansion, Oliver finally speaks up. His voice is stern and demanding and I listen intently at everything he says.

"We go in, we go out. We don't get caught."

I nod and we get out of his car together. His hand grabs mine and pulls me to the bushes. I follow his steps, trying to place my feet exactly where he does. When we make it to the fence that blocks the back yard he lets go of my hand.

I turn to him and watch him crouch with his fingers interlocked so that I can use him as a step. I look at him in shock but say nothing. Doing as I'm told, I wait for him on the other side of the fence.

"There's a camera, there," He points to the first camera, "and there," He points to one farther away, "Do what I say," He repeats.

I nod to him and take his hand again as he guides me in weird directions as to avoid being caught by the cameras. He does this seamlessly and I can tell he's done this several times before. He knows exactly where to step.

We make it to the front door and I'm slow to react at his sudden stop that I hit his back with my face. He turns to face me and I just smile reassuringly, giving my forehead a rub. He leans forward and gives my forehead a kiss before returning to his ninja things. I can't help but blush at his actions. Even at the most dangerous of times, he still gets a response from me.

Oliver whips out a key from his pocket and tries to unlock the door. Tries being the key word here because that door was not budging. I look at him concerned as he rubs his eyes in frustration. He looks to the backyard again and lights up when he gets an idea.

"Plan B."

If breaking in through the back door was Plan A, what's he gonna make us do for Plan B?

He tugs me along by my hand that's still interlocked with his and continues his little ninja act as we scurry through the backyard once again. We're at the other side of the house, leaning against the wall. There's a window a couple feet away and I see him staring at it. My eyes widen when it clicks in my head that he wants to sneak in through the window.

I stay silent, though, following his clear instructions that I do as I'm told.

The window is a couple feet off the ground, probably six feet. Enough that I would have to pull my self up to be able to get in. Oliver goes first, easily lifting himself up into whichever room is on the other side.

I stand there alone for a couple seconds, wondering what I'm doing sneaking into Oliver's own house with him. But then his head pokes out the window and his arm reaches out to help me. I gratefully take it, knowing that I would never be able to pull myself up without his help.

I'm almost in when my foot gets stuck on the window sill and I fall forward. I want to scream, but I keep it in, only gasping slightly as I start to fall. But the fall doesn't really hurt.

I open my eyes to see Oliver's face. I realize that I fell on top of him. No wonder the fall was so cushioned, I had a human body under me. I was straddling Oliver Grey.

I try to move off of him but his hands go immediately to my hips and stop any further movement. His eyes swing open and catch mine, putting me in a mesmerized daze as they usually do. I blush when his hands tighten around my hips and I stop any movement that I'm doing.

His eyes are still on mine as he speaks, a hoarse whisper, "Don't."

I smirk at him, knowing that he means don't stop instead of don't move. And before I have any rational thought stopping me, I close the small distance between us and kiss him.

He instantly starts kissing me back, his grip on my hips loosening enough so that I can move more freely. Oliver groans lightly into the kiss and I smile at his reaction. Before I can keep going, he flips us over.

One of his hands hold my arms up above my head, gripping my wrists and holding them down. His other hand starts roaming my body. He's smooth as he slips his hand under my hoodie and his cold hands on my warm torso sends electricity all through me. He smirks in the kiss and I know that he can tell what he's doing to me.

I keep lifting myself, or at least trying, so that I can kiss Oliver deeper and be closer to him. But my hands being trapped above my head greatly limit my movement. I groan, wanting to get closer, but Oliver likes this teasing he's doing.

There's a loud bang when the door hits the wall and Oliver stops kissing me. He looks up to the door and from what I can see on the floor, he looks like a deer caught in headlights.

"Who's your catch of the day, Oli?"

Only two people ever call Oliver that nickname. He hates it and would probably break in half whoever said that name. Except for those two people, his mom and his dad.

When the realization hits that his dad just caught us making out on the floor, my cheeks become a darker shade of red, if that's even possible.

Oliver stands up and helps me up before turning to look at his dad who's smiling at us.

"Oh, I know you," Mr. Grey speaks up again, "You're Tim's daughter."

I frown at the mention of my father's name. No one had called me 'Tim's daughter' since the days of fancy parties and banquets.

Today was not the day to associate me with my father. Actually, no day was, he was dead to me. He'd made his choice to not be my father anymore long ago.

He pauses before saying something else, staring at me with his eyes that are so similar to Oliver's, but they aren't. They hold something darker within them. Something I don't think will ever leave him.

"Still on that business trip?" He smirks.

I hadn't talked about my father in years. People stopped asking after a while when my response became so programmatic. My lips part when he says that. The pain of my father's disappearance filling me once again. What did he know?

"She has a name," Oliver grunts out.

"Oh, I bet she does," speaks Mr. Grey, "Do you remember it though, Oli?"

I roll my eyes and am about to speak up, but Oliver stops me. He must have sensed my annoyance because he grabs my hand and squeezes it tight. I took it as a 'shut up, Haze'.

"How did you know I was here?"

"New cameras."

Oliver curses under his breath and looks to me quickly before looking at his dad.

"Well, we're off now."

"So soon? It's late, you should stay."

I want to accept the hospitality. When I was young, Mr. Grey was always the life of the party at the banquets and parties and galas he would host. He'd always give us kids fun little toys and activities to do so we wouldn't be bored.

But Oliver's tone towards his dad didn't seem loving and happy as I expected it to be. I thought back to when he told me that with me, no one could find him. Was his dad one of those people?

"No."

"Oli," Mr. Grey's voice turns dark and angry, "Stay."

"I said," His voice is low and his words come out through gritted teeth, "No."

"Don't go against your father's wishes."

"I do what I want."

"Oliver! You are staying here!"

The tone that escapes Mr. Grey's mouth is all but evil. His bright eyes fall and turn dark and his hands ball up into tight fists. I move a little so that I'm hidden behind Oliver, afraid of what might happen next.

"You wouldn't do anything in front of a guest."

"You test my patience, Oli."

I squeeze Oliver's hand, trying to get a message across. The window was still open and we could escape the way we came in. He must've gotten the message because all he says next is, "Run."

I turn and jump out the window, not caring that I hit the ground hard from the six-foot height. The adrenaline that's pumping through my body covers up any pain. I wait for Oliver to jump out and when he does I start sprinting with him. He's quick though, quicker than me, and I fall slightly behind.

I turn back to see Oliver's father leaning out the window. It's too dark to see his face, but I can only imagine the anger that he's showing. He was shaking his fist and I could hear his voice begging us to stop and stay with him.

I keep running but I can't help but feel bad for Oliver's father. He seems lonely in that big house and maybe he just needs someone to talk to. But I remember the evil tone he used against his own son and I shake that thought away.

When I make it to the fence, Oliver is already waiting for me with his hands interlocked so that I can jump over. I make it to the other side and wait for him, but he doesn't show up at the top of the fence. I try not think the worst as my fears start getting the best of me. But then I hear his voice.

"Hey, dad, see ya never!" He yells as he pops over the fence seconds later.

I smile when I see him and let my fears flow out of me.

"Come on," Oliver says, grabbing my hand, "Let's get outta here."