by Ava Walsh
"I want to see something." She grabbed Oliver's hand and dragged him back to the main part of her bedroom, positioning him at the foot of her bed.
"What is it?"
She didn't answer, flicking off the hallway light before laying back down and turning off her bedside lamp. Her breathing was shallow as she peered into the darkness. She could barely see the dark shadow that was Oliver. But he was far too tall to have been the thing standing over her bed.
"Mack, what is it?"
"Take a step back?"
Oliver did so, grumbling. "Do you think I came into your room?"
"No. But Gedge is still after me. If he learned where I was…" She turned the light back on. "But what I saw–what I think I saw was too short to be a person. I guess I was just dreaming. I'm not going to be able to sleep at all tonight, though."
Guilt flashed across Oliver's face. "It was me," he blurted. "I'm sorry. It was me."
Mack rose a brow. "Excuse me?"
"I couldn't sleep, and I decided to come wake you up so we could go play or watch a movie or something. So I came in here, and then I realized how selfish and creepy I was being, so I was going to leave, but then I woke you up. And I was too embarrassed to say anything."
Mack stared at Oliver. She knew she should be furious at him for that, sneaking into her room and then putting on that elaborate show of checking everything to hide his actions, but she wasn't. Instead, she found herself laughing. Maybe it was just that she was too relieved that it was Oliver and not something scary, but she wasn't angry at all.
"That's a relief," she said, brushing her hair from her face. "For the record, though, please don't come into my room when you think I'm sleeping unless you turn on some lights first."
Oliver nodded. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Mack smiled. "Let's just go to bed."
Oliver stared at her, licking his lips nervously. He opened his mouth, but seemed to change his mind and hung his head. "I'll turn on the air conditioning in here so you can sleep better."
Mack didn't know what possessed her to say it, but the words were out before she could stop and think rationally–"Would you like to sleep in here tonight?"
Oliver froze. He turned wide eyes on her. Was it just her imagination, or did he actually look excited? His eyes hooded. "You mean sex?"
Heat flooded Mack's face. "I… I wasn't exactly thinking sex, but…"
What was she saying? She wasn't the type of girl who just invited men to have sex with her! And Oliver had never shown interest in her in that way.
"But?" he prodded.
"I'm sorry. This is completely inappropriate. Forget I said anything."
Oliver inched towards the door, a conflicted expression on his face. Eventually, he sighed and shook his head. "It's late, you're tired and with that scare, you're not thinking clearly. We'll talk in the morning."
Wait, what did that mean? Mack's eyes widened and she straightened. "You mean you want—"
"We'll talk in the morning," he repeated. "Goodnight."
He shut the door behind him, and within a few minutes the gentle breeze of the air-conditioning wafted across her skin. Mack shut the windows, her mind reeling.
Maybe it was because she was tired and it was so late at night, but she thought she had seen the desire in Oliver's eyes... but that was ridiculous, wasn't it? He was so childlike, he probably never even thought about sex, or thought that he would get cooties from her or something. She was reading too much into things, and she had made him uncomfortable.
Wasn't this exactly the type of situation that she had wanted to avoid? She was going to be gone in a couple more months anyway… But the thought of leaving made her wince. Even though she had only been with Oliver for a month, she felt like she had known him her whole life, and she was more comfortable with him than she was with her own family.
I'm in too deep.
Mack lay down in bed and turned off her light–but she did not sleep at all.
Chapter Five
By the time morning came, Mack was a ball of nerves. Would Oliver want to pretend last night never happened? Or had she gone too far; would he want her gone? She didn't want to go–she had only known him for a month, but she realized that she had never felt so relaxed and at home as she did in this crazy open-air house full to bursting with plants, even if it did come with creepy crawlers.
"I'm not the kind of girl who falls in love after just a month," she tried to tell herself, but it was a lie–she might not have been that kind of girl before, but she certainly was now.
She didn't want this to be over. She didn't want to be sent to Utah or wherever else Meyer wanted to put her. What she wanted was for her family to move into the closest town and to set up her animal rescue shelter there, so she could spend her weekends here with Oliver–or maybe they could transform the grounds into some sort of wildlife rehabilitation center.
The point was moot until she knew if Oliver was going to send her back, anyway.
He came shuffling in, looking shy, not at all like his normal self, just as she finished making breakfast. A brief smile crossed his face as he plopped himself at the table. Mack tried to suppress the instant disappointment that flooded her. With her carelessness the previous night, she had ruined everything.
"Sorry," both blurted at the same time.
Mack giggled and Oliver grinned.
"I already told you, you don't have anything to be sorry about," she told him, setting his normal fare of mealworms and mangos in front of him. Mack was going for a safer protein smoothie, made from a vegan protein powder, not bugs. Putting a worm or a cricket into her mouth was something she just wasn't ever going to try.
"I still feel bad. It was wrong of me to go into your room at night. I'm surprised you didn't run away from me screaming last night." Oliver poked at his breakfast. "I told you that I have personal boundary issues. Well, I have a lot of social issues in general. I always have. I've never really fit in anywhere, except here. But it gets lonely."
Mack nodded her understanding. "I'm not always the best in social situations, either. I have a pretty nasty temper when it comes to most people. You ought to have seen the way I ripped apart my dad when I told him I was quitting my job at the zoo. It was a bloodbath, and all he asked was why."
She shook her head, shuddering. She was glad that Oliver had never seen that side of her. She didn't know why, but she never got angry at him. Maybe because he was just so uninhibited that she couldn't fault him when he crossed a line or two or five.
"Why did you?"
"I had a crisis of faith. Sort of. I mean, I do think that there is some good that zoos do, I really do, but I got to a point where I wasn't sure it was enough. To be honest, I'm still not sure exactly where I stand, but I could never go back."
Oliver frowned at that but nodded. "I see."
"Anyway," Mack continued, her hands beginning to shake. She had never talked about sex with anyone before. Even when her mother had given her 'the talk' they hadn't really talked about it. When it came to all of her old friends, they weren't really like the sex-crazed teens who seemed to dominate TV shows, either. "About last night. I'm sorry that I made you uncomfortable—"
"You don't know how uncomfortable," Oliver groaned, then ducked his head. "Sorry. I promised myself I wouldn't do that."
Mack stared at him. He couldn't mean…
Oliver continued. "I realize you were just saying that because it was late and you weren't thinking clearly. I'm sorry that I considered taking advantage of the situation."
It felt like all the air had left Mack's lungs, but at the same time like they were filling with sunshine. She had to fight to keep herself from launching herself on him. "Wait… you wanted to?"
Oliver stared at his untouched breakfast, guilt plain as day on his features, and nodded.
"Really?"
"I'm sorry."
Mack couldn't help but laugh. "No, don't be. I just… I felt awful last night because I thought I made y
ou uncomfortable by suggesting something you had no interest in."
"Why wouldn't I have any interest in you?"
It was her turn to duck her head. "I guess you just always act so… childlike."
"I'm an adult. I'm older than you." Oliver's voice was wounded. "And let's get something clear. From the first moment I saw you, with all your delicious curves, I have been fighting for self-control. I didn't want to make things weird between us, and maybe I overcompensated. But I have social issues, I'm bad at reading attraction and I didn't want to do or say anything that made you want to leave. I like having you live here. It's more than just having someone around. Nobody else has ever played tag with me on my jungle gym."
"Really?" Mack hated how breathless she sounded. She wanted to remain cool and in control, but that wasn't happening. Heat swirled through her and she was thinking of how inviting a bed sounded…
"Really. You're fun and sexy." Oliver's voice dropped a few octaves, staring back at her. "And you're saying you feel the same way towards me?"
Speechless, she nodded.
Oliver stiffened. He raised his face, nostrils flaring as though he was scenting the air. He was on his feet in a second, and in another second he had picked Mack up. She squealed, eyes widening.
"Put me down, I'm too heavy!"
"No." He tore from the kitchen, feet pounding the floor. Mack clutched at his neck. Was this him abandoning social conventions? Her heart skipped a beat, but she was also excited. She had spent the night sleepless because she wanted this, and now—
Her brow furrowed when they entered the atrium, but she shrugged. This was where Oliver was most comfortable. Sex on a hammock couldn't be much different than on a bed, could it?
He set her on her feet and dove between two huge ferns. He wrenched open a trapdoor disguised as a rock and fairly shoved Mack inside. She yelped in surprise.
"Oliver—"
"Stay in there."
Was this some sort of bizarre sex game? Muscles roped and bunched over Oliver's body, and there was a deadly expression on his face as his head swung back and forth, eyes darting every which way. Cold dread drenched Mack. This was no game. Something was happening.
She opened her mouth to ask what it was, but Oliver shook his head. "Stay here. Don't come out, whatever you do. Please."
He lowered the lid, trapping Mack in utter darkness. She felt around the small space with her hands. It would be just big enough for Oliver if he was in here alone. Her heart was in her throat. What was going on? What had happened to spook him so quickly? She crouched in the darkness, straining to hear past the beat of blood in her ears.
When the sound of gunfire exploded somewhere above her, Mack nearly screamed. She shoved a fist into her mouth, eyes widening. Oliver! Was he getting shot to bits? Who would be shooting at him?
Gedge. Gedge had found her! Bile rose in her throat. How had he found her? They were going to kill Oliver, and then they'd find her and kill her too. Tears burned her eyes and she froze in the darkness.
The gunfire suddenly ceased. Sounds of grunting sounded above her, branches breaking, and a repeated pounding, as if something heavy were hitting the ground. A loud noise, half-scream, and half-snarl. And then it was over. More branches broke.
Mack swallowed hard. What had just happened up there? Had they killed Oliver? If she lifted the trap door, would she see Oliver's blank eyes staring at her? The image tortured her. She closed her eyes, pressing her hands to her ears, trying to tell herself that Oliver was fine–but she couldn't banish the image.
No sound came from above her. If she just opened it a little, she could see… Mack could hardly get her body to move, but she set her shoulders against the door and pushed it up. Light poured in. She opened it a little further.
A pair of blank eyes stared at her. But they weren't Oliver’s. It was a man she didn't recognize. Mack stared, frozen, at the body.
The man's head had been turned completely around.
Chapter Six
Mack bit back the bile that was rising in her throat. There wasn't a drop of blood on the ground, but those eyes still stared at her. She scrambled out of the hiding place, heart pounding. What could have twisted a fully grown man's head all the way around? Oliver? He had the strength but was so gentle. How could he unleash this type of violence?
She dropped the trapdoor lid, backing away from the body towards the exit of the atrium. Cell phones didn't work out here, and the only landline was in Oliver's office. If she could get there and phone Meyer–would the marshal get here in time?
At the sound of something huge rushing at her from the bushes ahead of her, Mack scrambled backward. Branches bowed out of the way as a huge, black figure appeared. It moved quickly on four legs. Deep-set eyes and a wide, flat nose were set in a domed head. Huge canines flashed in a gaping mouth as it hooted and roared.
What was a gorilla doing in Florida?
Mack screamed, tripping in her haste to get away as it charged. She fell heavily. The gorilla thundered past her. The crack of a gun rang in her ears.
Mack flipped onto her stomach and saw the gorilla plow into a man. A gun fell from his hand and a strangled cry ripped from his throat. The gorilla's grasping hands closed over the man's head as he reached for a knife on his bed. An awful crunching noise rang through the atrium as the gorilla's palms crushed together. The man jerked, kicked, and lay still.
The gorilla dropped the body, turning towards Mack. She froze in fear, staring into the gorilla's eyes. Canines flashed and her experience at the zoo had her reacting on instinct. She dropped her gaze and rolled herself into a ball, keeping her head between her legs. Maybe if it didn't see her as a threat it wouldn't attack.
She heard the massive forearms of the gorilla pound the ground as it approached her. It made soft hooting noises, like the noises the old silverback would make to his mates. She felt the gorilla get closer, and then a spade-size hand touched the back of her head. Fingers combed through her hair, oh so gentle and familiar.
The soft hooting noises stopped, and Oliver spoke. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to see that side of me."
Mack's head jerked up. The gorilla was gone. In its place was Oliver, kneeling beside her. Deep eyes full of regret stared at her, and she stared back, her mind whirling. What was going on? Where did the gorilla go?
"Oliver?" she choked out.
He withdrew from her, shoulders hunching. His hands brushed the ground and he crouched, backing away on his hands and feet just like a gorilla would.
No…. it couldn't be! Humans didn't turn into gorillas, and gorillas didn't turn into humans! Mack shook her head.
"Mack," Oliver said again. He bumped into the corpse behind him and stopped. "Please don't tell anyone."
"Tell anyone… what?"
"What I am." His voice rasped.
Mack trembled from head to foot. "What are you?"
Oliver moved forward, then back, then forward again. He closed his eyes. His skin took on a strange texture, more leathery, and his hair grew thick on his arms. Soon, it covered his arms, chest and legs. His head became more elongated, his face rounded forward. Mack's jaw dropped, eyes widening as Oliver changed into a gorilla before her eyes.
I'm either dreaming or high.
Oliver's deep eyes stared out at her from the gorilla's face. Mack stretched a trembling hand towards him, needing to touch to believe, but before her fingers could reach him, the gorilla had faded back into Oliver.
"That's what I am," Oliver said.
Mack swallowed heavily. Was this a dream? How could Oliver have just transformed into a gorilla before her eyes? This was impossible. And yet, here he was, staring back at her, his expression just as frightened as she should be.
Odd that her heart wasn't pounding in her chest. Though her mind was reeling, her body seemed to take it in its stride.
"Please, Mack." His eyes were pleading. "Please don't tell anyone."
***
Oliver wouldn't let her ou
t of his sight until he was certain that there weren't any other killers in the house, then he told her to lock herself into the theater while he took care of the bodies.
She shivered in the cool room, sitting on the sofa, trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. Oliver could turn into a gorilla. She'd heard of werewolves, even werebears and weretigers, but weregorillas? Even during her brief stints reading paranormal romances, she hadn't come across that one before.
There was still the chance that she was dreaming, but Mack couldn't remember a time when she thought she was dreaming while she was actually dreaming. That left being high, but the only way that could have happened was if Oliver had slipped her something, and there was no way he would do that.
Mack almost laughed as she realized it was more believable that he could turn into a gorilla than that he would drug her.
I'm in over my head. I should be running and screaming, not wishing he was with me right now.
The door opened and Oliver hesitantly stepped in. "I told you to lock the door."
"I guess I forgot." She pulled herself up so that she was sitting, giving him room. Suddenly she remembered the gunshots and jumped to her feet, running to him. He stopped, eyes widening. Mack grasped his shoulders, looking him over.
"Did they shoot you?"
"No."
The relief was more powerful than her confusion and Mack threw her arms around him. His skin was hot against hers, his muscles tense, but she couldn't bring herself to let him go. "It was Gedge. He knows where I am. We have to call the marshals and have them move us."
"I can't go anywhere."
"Why?" Mack swallowed hard as Oliver tensed. "Because… you turn into a gorilla?"
Oliver's eyes closed and he nodded.
"So… you don't have control over it? But if it's not until now that I'm seeing your… other side…"
"Usually, I control it just fine. But when I feel threatened, I change without meaning to. And I told you, I'm bad with social aspects. I sometimes feel threatened when no threat is intended. When I'm… that, I can't control myself. I am in attack mode. If anything is vaguely threatening, I go for the kill."