36. Oli
Oli
Bottom Feeder
“ W hy are you walking like that?” Kelly asks Jorge as we head through the precinct parking lot.
He currently has a bow-legged gait, and I can’t fight the rush of heat to my cheeks. I had him again last night—only my fingers, but still.
Jorge bristles. “Why are you watching me walk, creeper?”
Jorge’s mom, Lucy, asks him something in Spanish, and now he’s the one blushing.
Everyone is accompanying me.
Granted, I’m not going to have ten people storm the damn police station, so Jorge and Phoenix will be the only ones going inside with me. I never thought I’d have such a massive support group backing me through this, but I’ll be forever grateful. I’m nervous about it all and unsure how it’ll go, especially since we fought with the guy I’m reporting. However, Jorge was right. If I want justice, I have to fucking take it. And so I am.
“You do seem to have a rather large stick up your ass,” Devon remarks with a smirk and Jorge slaps his arm.
Phoenix looks like he might hurl. “Please stop talking about it. I don’t need that imagery.”
“Me either,” Dad says gruffly. “I love you, son, but keep it in your pants, alright?”
My knees buckle with embarrassment. This was a terrible idea.
When we reach the front doors, two officers walk in and eye our group suspiciously. I wave off my posse and open the door for Jorge. Phoenix trails in behind us. The lights are blinding in here, and the smell of coffee is potent in my nose. A few people sit in the small lobby, officers move around the front area, and buzzers sound somewhere in the back of the building. I swallow hard. This is it. Time to buck up. I steel my spine and approach the lady in blue behind the reception counter.
Jorge squeezes my hand tightly, keeping me grounded and focused. “Hi, how can I help you?” the officer asks.
I swallow again. My lips part, but nothing comes out. Phoenix whispers in my ear, “You got this, man.”
Nodding, I make eye contact with light brown ones and force myself to speak. “I’d like to report a rape.”
From there, my body goes on autopilot. I’m asked questions, given forms, and instructions on hiring an attorney. We end up stuck in the station for over an hour, considering I’m accusing a decorated officer’s son of rape. The detective who talks with me is very thorough in her questioning, and I have to recant details I’d rather not. I relay it all, including times and dates, potential witnesses, and any injuries I might have suffered. When we are through and the detective says she will be in touch, I’m ready to bolt through the doors.
“I’m so proud of you.” Jorge beams at me, still holding my hand. He refused to leave my side, and I’m glad he didn’t. I don’t think I could’ve done this without him.
“Take me home,” I whisper. Home means his house, and he knows it.
“I know that was a lot, but I was wondering if you’d come by the studio in the next couple of days?” Phoenix asks me as he steps outside.
“Yeah…yeah, sure.” I nod absently, wanting to scrub the grime off my skin and be absorbed back into my safety bubble.
Phoenix hugs me, murmuring he loves me in my ear, and then I have to rehash everything to my family and Jorge’s friends. Jorge’s Uncle Miguel is a defense attorney, and Gabriel said he’d have him call me. I thank him as best as I can, but I feel so fucking drained. Just as our group departs, the detective I spoke to comes rushing out the doors.
“Mr. Sawyer,” she blurts.
“Yeah?”
“The bar you were at was Corral Club, right?”
“It was.”
“I just got a call that Adam Langley is pressing charges.”
I blink. Blink some more. “ Langley? ”
Eli wanders over to the detective. “Any relationship to Jake Langley?” he asks, eyes flicking to mine.
“His son, yes.” Fuck. Detective Sloane frowns deeply. “The hospital found high levels of Rohypnol in his blood. And we’re working on getting the security footage from earlier in the evening. Can we call on you as a witness?”
“O-Of c-course,” I stutter, unable to believe what I hear.
“Good man. I’ll call you soon so we can get the ball rolling.”
She turns away, and I grab at my chest while my heart beats so fast I can hardly stand it. He drugged my therapist’s son! If I hadn’t shown up...if I hadn’t stopped him…
“Shh, it’s okay, babe,” Jorge coos, rubbing soothing strokes down my back. “He’s going down. We’re fucking taking him down. He won’t get away with it.”
I nod fast, blinking away the unshed tears. “I know. Morgan preyed on his last victim.”
T he next forty-two hours go by in a whirl of phone calls, witness statements, and Morgan’s arrest.
After we left the station, I got a call from Detective Sloane later that evening saying two more victims had come forward about Morgan. I guess, just like me, they only discovered the new laws around sex crimes in California. She assured me that despite being a former Chief’s kid, that wouldn’t spare him from facing the law.
I busted my ass to make sure I recalled every detail. Jorge helped me write it all down so I’d have it ready for Miguel, who agreed to help me pro bono. He’s already getting the appropriate papers filed with the court so we can fast-track my case due to the circumstances. And Morgan, that fucking coward, swallowed his threat to press assault charges against us because, according to the bar video footage, he kicked Jorge first.
Jorge didn’t remember that part, and I hadn’t seen it.
Regardless, I can finally make good on my word and show up to the studio like I told Phoenix I would. A hole in my heart is slowly stitching back together now that he and I are speaking. I know I still hold some resentment, but I’m trying, and so is he. That’s all I can ask for. I shoulder through the double doors, heading down the hall to their suite. I can already hear loud chatter as I go inside. Much like last time, they all go deathly silent when I close the door.
“Hi,” I say softly.
Jorge rocks on his heels, lips pursed. Phoenix rubs the back of his neck, and Eli won’t make eye contact with me. Michael is glaring at me like I’ve personally offended him. Kelly seems unfazed, scrolling on her phone and giggling. Devon is the one who breaks the ice.
“You guys are all a bunch of bitches. Tell the kid!” He gestures at me.
“ Doyouwannajoinourband ?” I blink at Jorge, who exploded the question so fast I could barely understand it.
He wiggles his hips, cups his face, and squirms. “I was going to ask you like…later,” Phoenix admits. “But this dick didn’t want to wait.” He points at Jorge.
“It is exciting! I’m so fucking happy.” The happiness twists into full-blown tears.
I’m frozen solid, unable to form thoughts or breathe.
“I’m not getting shoved back to rhythm. I refuse. I’ve been the only guitarist for a fucking decade.” That’s Michael. “No offense.”
“Wait…what?” I finally find my voice.
Jorge slurps his tears back into his skull, scrubs his eyes, and rushes over to me. He takes both my hands in his slightly damp ones and kisses me fast. “We want you to join our band. You have said that you have always wanted to play with Phoenix. And after what you told me—you know, how you want to do something you enjoy? I figured…”
“Just so we are clear, I am okay with this, as long as you are still as good as you used to be,” Kelly says. “Phoenix has been bragging.”
I look down at Jorge, who is a tear-stricken, wiggling mess. “Say yes,” he blurts. “Please. Oh god, can you picture it? Us playing together and kissing on stage like those fuckers in Sleep Token?” He sighs dreamily.
“Jorge, I—”
“You don’t have to, Oli. Seriously. It was Jorge’s idea, and we all concluded we could use another guitar player. Michael has to play over a track on some songs.”
Michael stiffens. “ Plenty do it. It’s not like I’m lip-syncing.”
“Didn’t say it was an issue, dude. But come on? How dope would it be to not rely on the track for Isolated?” Devon offers.
“What about the court stuff?” I ask softly because that will take up some time, I’m sure.
“We don’t have any tours set up yet.” That’s Kelly. “We are still writing the last few songs for the new album.”
I can hardly believe this.
They want me , Oli, to join Dreadful ?
My throat bobs as I swallow, eyes blinking. Tears are welling up in my eyes faster than I can stop them. After everything these people have done for me, they are going to go the extra step? Phoenix is going the extra step? I glance at my brother, and he tells me through his gaze.
Our promise still stands.
“Give me a moment,” I croak, releasing one of Jorge’s hands so I can swipe at my eyes. This is fucking surreal.
“I also might have looked at something I wasn’t supposed to,” Jorge mutters. I peek at him, and he blushes, ducking his head. “And I also might have accidentally kept looking at it until I figured out what it was.”
A watery laugh escapes me. He looks so guilty. I knew he was up to something when he’d crawled out of my bed at 2 am to ‘get water.’
“Okay. Fine. I saw the tabs. All of them. You already know our songs, babe. It’s fucking meant to be.”
Shaking my head, I lean down and kiss the tip of his nose. “I don’t know the new ones.”
“Hell, we don’t even know the new ones,” Michael grumbles. “Lex is going to murder us. You know that, right? First, the jail thing, and now adding a new member? Better lube your ass, Devon. You’re gonna get fucked.”
“Fuck off with that. I’ll deal with Lex. So, are you in or out, Oli? Michael’s ego needs to know.”
Michael lunges for Devon, grappling him into a headlock and bending his mohawk. “NOT THE HAIR!”
“What was that about my ego?”
Jorge lifts on his tiptoes to draw my attention back to him. “Well?”
“You sure about this?”
“Deadly sure,” he insists. “I want this for you, beautiful. You deserve it.”
I cup his face, search his eyes, and give in. “Alright. I’ll do it.”
“Fuck yes!” He pumps his fist and hugs me viciously.
“Welcome to the madhouse,” Kelly grins at me and starts texting. “Shit. We better get going.”
“Going?” I ask, and Jorge pulls back.
“Eli’s first dance recital is tonight.”
“It is?” I gawk at Eli. “You didn’t tell me.”
He shrugs. “I didn’t think anyone would want to see me.”
Well, that’s a crock of shit. I’m slightly offended, too. He and I text. Pretty regularly, too. And we chat at group, and we chat while he waits for Phoenix to pick him up. But I can understand why he didn’t shout it at the rooftops. This is something that means an awful lot to him. Since starting lessons, he’s talked about it endlessly in group. I just didn’t know he’d have a performance so soon.
“What time is it?” I ask.
“Seven.”
“We are all going to head over there early to get seats.”
Glancing up at the wall clock, I see it’s almost six. “I have to drop off some papers for Miguel. Can we give them to your dad?” I ask Jorge.
“Duh. This is important. And I’m very eager to see Eli in tights.”
“Don’t be weird, Jorge,” Phoenix barks.
“I’m always weird. It’s my very essence.”
I tug Jorge to my chest, kiss the top of his head, and say, “Alright, we will meet you guys there.”