When Perfect Meets Crazy

Chapter 32: 31 - Absolutely ridiculous vs. unbelievably brilliant?

“Came from where?” I inquired.

“I lied before.”

I froze, fingers stilling in the act of wiping his split brow. My entire being tensed.

My eyes narrowed.

“What did you lie about?”

My voice could’ve easily cut glass. I was ready to feed him to the wolves.

He flinched.

He drew in a deep breath, mentally readying himself for the confession. All around it was a smart move

seeing as I more than prepared to orchestrate his demise. Savouring what could possibly be his last

breath wasn’t a bad move on his part.

“I lied about school,” he continued. “I’m not in high school. I’m in my first year at Harvard. I didn’t lie

about Harvard.”

He pinned on the last part as though it could somehow excuse the lie he did tell.

Relief flowed through me as I released my breath on a sigh, annoyance running through my veins. That

build up for a lie about school? My heart almost stopped beating over a stupid lie about his level of

education?

I was torn between the urge to slap him and the urge to throw him out the window.

I settled for pinching the bridge of my nose while drawing in a calming breath to steady myself.

Who the fuck cared whether or not he was high school student after everything that had happened?

Obviously, he wasn’t a high school student. From the beginning, I hadn’t believed that ridiculous lie. No

high school would have signed off on a senior taking time off. High schools weren’t liberal that way,

colleges were. It was that obvious.

Clearly, I was wrong. Olly hadn’t been sent to test my limits. He had.

I clenched my jaw. A big part of me was already prepped for a huge betrayal and even though

rationally, I knew I should be grateful it wasn’t that, I couldn’t help but be pissed. Royally pissed.

“Never again,” I commanded in a tone as cold as ice, “lie to me.”

“Okay,” he agreed, relief spreading across his features.

I had to draw in another deep breath and look away to avoid giving in to the urge for violence.

“Go on,” I ground out.

“I took the semester off and came down here to investigate. One time while I was sniffing around, I

went to watch a match and ran into Townsend.”

I arched a brow, wordlessly asking who Townsend was.

“He was one of the feds who worked on my dad’s case. He was working undercover at the arena and I

almost blew his cover.” He grimaced. “There was a lot of back and forth but, eventually, it was decided

that the best option was for me to sign on as a contender with him as my manager and help him work

the case from the inside. In return, my dad gets fined heavily if he is involved as opposed to jail time.”

I rolled my eyes.

I could pretty much piece together the rest of the story on my own. The partner he was working with

was clearly this ‘Townsend’ guy and the reason he was following me around was to make sure I didn’t

blow their cover. It was practically insulting. All that trouble for nothing.

I huffed.

“That’s a sweet deal,” I managed, as though he didn’t just confess to being an undercover agent. “I had

you pegged for someone who would bargain for more jail time though.”

“He is still my father,” was his explanation.

I understood. After all, mine too was more sinner than saint but I still helped keep his secret regardless.

Even from my mom.

“Fair enough.” I nodded curtly. “It’s your call.”

Tilting his head back for easier access, I turned my attention to cleaning his bruised eye.

I soon found out that the position left him with only one place to look; me. After the heavy back story,

his gaze on me like that was most uncomfortable so I did the only thing I could.

I placed my hand over his working right eye, pretending it was more convenient for me to tilt his head

that way. It wasn’t but it got his intent gaze off me as he was forced to close the eye.

“Okay.” I finished with his brow, letting his head fall to its normal level. “I get the gist but you need to fill

in a few blanks.”

For some reason, despite the fact that I finally got what I wanted -a full explanation-, I was still

dissatisfied. Angry even.

He nodded.

“You said you were investigating an illegal drug trade. How did that lead you to an illegal boxing club?”

“The club is a front for it. We think they take advantage of the matches to meet.” Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“An illegal trade as a front for another illegal business,” I mused, absently wondering if the people I

followed the day I went to the arena thinking they were heading out were somehow connected to this. It

would make sense how I got lost in the heart of the arena and ended up far from the exit. It also

explained how I suddenly lost sight of them. They must’ve gone through a hidden door or something. “I

can’t decide if it’s brilliant or absolutely ridiculous.”

He gave an awkward one shoulder shrug.

“So what went wrong tonight?” I asked. “Because this,” I gestured to his beat up self, “looks more like a

beat-down, an ambush than a face-off.”

“I finished my match early. A knockout,” he revealed. “Townsend wanted me to follow this one guy who

he noticed was always leaving before the end of the matches.”

“Why didn’t this Townsend just do it himself?”

“The other day when you saw me changing--”

“Taking of your mask,” I amended. “‘Changing’ makes it sound like I saw you naked.”

His sense of humor clearly had survived the night’s altercation because he had the gall to muster a

smile.

“Taking off my mask,” he echoed. “Townsend was supposed to be watching my dressing room but he

left to check something out and then you walked in. Anyway, he got caught snooping around. He was

able to bullshit his way out of it but for the time being, he can’t pull any suspicious moves so I had to go

in his stead. And I was spotted.” He gestured to his face.

“So you’re busted?”

He shook his head.

“I wore a ski mask and I was able to get away before they could take it off. I just have to pretend I’m

perfectly fine over the next few days and they’ll overlook me. I doubt whoever it is thinks it’s one of the

fighters anyway.”

“So you’re leaving it up to luck?” There certainly were levels to stupidity but this had to be at the top of

the list.

He gave a single shoulder jerk. I rolled my eyes to Mars and back. He really was an idiot. One would

think since these people could kill him for sticking his nose in their business, he’d at least have come

up with a better plan.

“Not to be a Debby Downer but you do realize you’re entirely covered in bruises, right? You’re not

going to fool anyone.”

“They’ll look better by morning.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I’ve been fighting for a while. I heal faster now.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s how our biology works but good luck.” I backed off even though I was entirely

unconvinced. I wasn't the one taking the risk anyway. “Just one last question.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Why come to me?”

He sighed, rubbing his good eye.

“Townsend was held up at the arena covering for me. I don’t know where he lives so I couldn’t go there.

I couldn’t go to my dad’s place. It’s too far and he’d ask questions. I couldn’t go anywhere random

since I’m bleeding and people would notice. Since I started working on this, I’ve been kind of living in

an RV but it’s too close to the arena. I wouldn’t have been able to lose them in that distance.”

His explanation made sense but I still didn’t see why my house was his next option.

“You have a girlfriend.” I said flatly. “Bethany, wasn’t it?”

“Tammy.” He winced.

“Yeah, her.”

“She doesn’t know,” he revealed.

I still wasn’t seeing any valid reason why my house was his last resort. He had a girlfriend he could

seek refuge with, yet he thought a girl he suspected might be ‘colluding with the enemy’ was a better

choice? There were too many holes in his logic. Unless of course the reason he chose me was to

implicate me by making it seem like I was as a double agent if, you know, I was actually colluding with

the enemy.

It was smart and underhanded. I was almost impressed, except he wasn't the brightest bulb so

chances that was the reason were low.

“Tonight would’ve been a good night to come clean to her, don’t you think?” I probed, in a bid to figure

out the reasoning behind coming to me.

He shook his head.

“Wait a second.” I frowned, realizing the dots weren’t quite connecting. “If you’re all the way at Harvard,

how is your girlfriend back here?”

My eyes narrowed.

“We started dating back in high school. She doing a course at the community college,” he offhandedly

explained.

I mulled it over for a few moments befor deciding it was an acceptable explanation.

“I still think going to her should’ve been higher on your list,” I insisted.

“She’d have been hysterical. You wouldn't. You’re the most logic driven person I know. You think your

way through everything regardless of the pressure. I needed that. There was no choice.”

I pursed my lips, tilting my head to the side as I took in his guileless expression. I could tell he meant it

as a fact and as both compliment and insult in one neat package.

It was time to decide whether to throw him to the wolves or not. He must have sensed it judging from

the pleading expression he slapped on.

I sighed.

It wasn’t an entirely solid explanation but one could argue that he had been in shock in the heat of the

moment and hadn’t been thinking straight, and while it wasn’t necessarily wholesome and all there, it

was still a logical reason.

I expelled my breath noisily through my mouth.

“Fine. I’ll accept your shitty explanation and backhanded flattery. This once. In return, I expect the truth.

Always.” I packed up what was left of my first aid supplies. “You can crash here tonight.”

His sigh of relief was unmistakable.

“On the floor,” I clarified, in case he was nursing any delusions of a good night’s rest on my comfy

bed.