Chapter 36
Darius
“Ollie?” My voice croaks when I call his name, and I cough to clear it.
The action has a sharp pain pinching behind my ribs.
I don’t know what the time is, but I feel like I have slept for both hours and for no time at all.
My body aches in that way that says you’ve been lying down for too long, while exhaustion sits heavy behind my eyelids.
“Ollie?” I call again, getting no answer.
There’s the hum of washer/dryer combo beneath Dermot Kennedy’s melodic voice flowing from the speaker Oliver has in the kitchen.
I can’t see past the bookshelf at the end of the bed, so I can’t tell if he’s even in the apartment.
With a grimace, I shift until I’m sitting up, the blanket pooling on my lap and cool air caressing my overheated skin.
I’m naked, skin slick with sweat and the taste of metal on my tongue.
Looking down, I want to cry at the state of my torso.
Pale skin mottled with shades of purple.
I rub a hand over the bruises – my skin is warm to the touch, swollen and tender.
The front door closes, and there’s the distinct sound of feet on hardwood floor.
Peering up, I expect Oliver to round the divider, frowning when it’s Darcey who appears.
She’s dressed for work, though her shirt sleeves are rolled up and her hair is hanging loose, not in the bun she usually has it in for the office.
“Hey, babe.” Her eyes home in on my chest and a flash of fury crosses her features before settling into a soft look of concern. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore. Tired. Hungry. What are you doing here?” Pulling the blanket higher to cover myself, I tuck it beneath my arms.
“Ollie asked me to come over.”
I look over her shoulder, though I know he’s not here. “Where is he?”
Darcey settles at the end of the bed, leaning with one hand on the sheets and the other on my calf, covered by the thick duvet.
“You know where he’s gone.”
I shake my head, not wanting the answer to be what I think it is.
“No. No. No. Please tell me he hasn’t gone to see Floyd?”
She shrugs.
“Shit! I asked him not to do anything! I told him I would take care of it.”
“D, that man loves you.” She points at me. “And this isn’t okay. We should have stopped you from ever marrying that bastard.”
I want to jump out of bed and chase after Oliver.
Stop him from confronting Floyd, but I’m naked and Darcey is watching me like a bodyguard.
Worry gnaws at my stomach – over what Floyd will do to Ollie, and over what a confrontation could mean for my father.
I’m twisted up over what I should do. I don’t want harm to come to Dad, but I don’t want to live like this.
Afraid in my own home, waiting for a time when Floyd's kicks land in a way I cannot heal from.
No one deserves to live like this. Beaten and abused. Blackmailed and coerced.
Choose yourself. Oliver’s words from last night play on my mind.
Could I do it? Could I leave Floyd and let my father take whatever consequences he has coming his way? I don’t know. What I do know, is that whatever happens, I need it to be my choice.
“Dars, I’m going to get up. Unless you want to see me buck naked, I suggest you go wait in the lounge.”
She stands, straightening her skirt. “Get dressed, but I can’t let you go after him.”
I scowl. I know everyone is looking out for me. But I’m an adult, for fuck’s sake. I don’t need to be handled with kid gloves.
“I’m not fighting you on this, Darcey. I don’t care what Oliver asked of you, or what good you think you’re doing. This is my life. So either be my best friend and go with me, or go to work and leave me alone.”
She huffs. “You’re not going to listen to me, are you?”
“Absolutely not.” I throw my hands up. “It’s not like Oliver listened to me!”
“Fine! You’re a stubborn shit, Darius. Put some clothes on, I’ll call a cab.” Darcey turns on her heel and leaves me to get ready.
Gritting my teeth through the piercing pain in my side, and with the use of only one hand, I pull on a pair of my sweats I left here previously, and one of Ollie’s chunky-knit jumpers.
I find Darcey in the kitchen, her head in the fridge.
She pulls out a pre-made protein shake and holds it out to me.
My stomach rumbles with hunger, but I shake my head.
“Those are rank.”
She reads the label, opens the bottle and takes a sip, her nose pulling up in distaste.
“Shit, you’re weren’t kidding. Doesn’t he have the chocolate flavour?”
“Nope. Ollie only drinks the unsweetened vanilla.”
Screwing the lid back on, she puts the bottle in the fridge, closing the door. “It tastes like watery milk.”
I ignore her comment, pouring myself a glass of water.
Oliver left the packet of paracetamol on the counter, and I press two out of the silver foil and swallow them in one gulp.
Then I rummage in his cupboard for one of the peanut butter protein bars I know he has somewhere.
My eyes land on the open box of Jaffa Cakes on top of the microwave and the sight pinches at my heart, while also making me smile.
Despite being mad at him in this moment, I am so fucking proud of Oliver.
Finding a protein bar, I unwrap it and take a bite.
It’s…awful. I hastily shove it all in, washing it down with water and hoping it settles the nauseating sensation in my belly.
I use the bathroom, looking into the hamper for my clothes from the night before, but finding it empty. My wallet is on the bathroom counter, but there’s no sign of my phone.
“Have you seen my phone?” I ask Darcey as I walk out of the bathroom.
She wraps an arm around my shoulders, guiding me to the door. She smells familiar – like lavender, clean linen and a childhood of shared moments – and I take comfort in her presence.
“No. Do you need it? Our cab’s here.”
I don’t remember where I left it when I came over last night. I can’t even be sure I had it on me. Darcey helps me into a coat she found hanging near the door. It’s too big because it belongs to Ollie. Lifting the collar to my nose, I breathe in the remnants of his aftershave.
“How long ago did he leave?” I ask, sliding on my shoes.
“Not long. Maybe fifteen minutes?” Darcey leans a hand on the door as she puts her heels on. “He was here when you woke up.”
“And he still left me?” I rub at my chest with my uninjured hand as Darcey opens the front door.
“I could see he didn’t want to. But he’s doing what he thinks is best. Isn’t that what started all this shit? You doing exactly that?” I nod. “You two were made for each other. Annoyingly loyal, the both of you. If you ask me, people should learn to be more selfish.”
“Is that your nugget of wisdom? Be more selfish.”
“Yep.” She pops the p. “I should put it on a t-shirt.”
I know she’s only trying to cheer me up and stop me worrying about the shitshow that is my life and while it’s not working; I appreciate the effort.
We make our way down the stairs and out onto the pavement where a car is waiting. Darcey helps me with my seatbelt, her eyes on my splintered hand.
“I hope Oliver beats the shit out of your fucking fake husband.” The cab driver’s eyes flick to meet mine in the rearview mirror.
“Darcey!”
She leans back in her seat. “Oh, please. It’s the least that fucker deserves.”
With the promise of a large tip, our driver makes some questionable manoeuvres as he weaves us across south London. I’m grateful because it means we reach the place I share with Floyd in record time, and I’m hopeful that Oliver wasn’t too far ahead of us.
Opening my wallet to pull out the keycard that unlocks the entrance door, I curse when I don’t find it.
“He took my fucking key.”
“He really thought this through,” Darcey remarks. “Wonder what else he had up his sexy sleeve.” I glower at her, but all she does is smirk in response. There’s a reason her and Ollie get on so well.
Thankfully, there’s a numbered keypad to the left of the entrance, which residents can enter a code into in order to open the door.
Once we’re inside the lobby, I press the button for the lift.
My hand throbs and the pain in my side has increased with all the movement.
I don’t think I could manage the stairs even if waiting for the lift to arrive has me tapping my foot impatiently.
When we finally reach the third floor, I hurry down the corridor and twist the handle, pushing open the front door.
“Is. It. Worth. It?” Oliver asks, his voice loud in the otherwise quiet room. My eyes dart around, taking in everything. Floyd, standing arms crossed, teeth gritted as he glares at Oliver. Oliver, who is holding his side, blood smudged across his cheek, yelling at…
“Dad?”
All heads in the room turn towards me.
“Ah, if it isn’t my husband. Come to fix this mess you’ve made, sweet boy?
” Floyd drawls, ignoring the tension radiating off of Oliver as he takes large strides towards me.
I inch back, feeling the protective presence of Darcey behind me.
Floyd’s eyes are cold pools of blue as he rounds on me, dropping his voice.
“Tell your boyfriend to leave before things get really bad for your beloved father.” Floyd lifts his hand to cup my cheek, but Oliver is on him in an instant, fists flying.
“I told you, you would never touch him again.”
Floyd fights back, his size and stamina overpowering Oliver as he sends the love of my life reeling backwards into the wall.
Fear. Love. Exhaustion. It all pools together and fuels me on and I place myself between the two men, reeling when a punch meant for Oliver gets me instead.
My vision goes hazy and I fall against Ollie, who shields me by pushing me behind his back.
“I’m calling the cops!” Darcey yells from where she’s still at the door.