23. Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
O llie woke up out of a dead sleep to the ringing of his phone.
It took him a moment to adjust, to realize he lay in Fin’s bed, the sheets wrapped around him. The bed was still warm on their side, so they must’ve gotten up and headed into the other room.
His phone flashed with an unknown number, and he drew his brows together.
“Hello?”
“Ollie, I need your help.” Meg’s voice sounded on the other side, and the dead seriousness in her tone had him sitting up sharp.
“How’d you get my number?” popped out of his mouth, even though his mind whirred with panic scenarios.
“Called Jasper, and Jules passed it along.” Her terse reply signaled the storm on the horizon about to descend. The air positively hummed. “Is Fin with you?”
“I’m at their place.” He pushed up from the bed. Something about the way Meg asked that stirred the anxiety in his veins. It had been simmering for a bit behind the scenes, but it cranked to a full boil.
“Thank fuck. Can you pass the phone to them?” Meg said.
Ollie didn’t bother with more than tossing on boxers. He stepped into the main area of Fin’s apartment—but didn’t spot them. “They’re not here.”
“They’re not picking up their phone,” Meg said. “Some bad shit went down today with Hera. She blew up spectacularly and dragged Fin’s name through the mud in the process.”
“Oh fuck.” A chill settled through him. He wasn’t sure why he expected them to pop out of a closet or something.
Fin wasn’t in the bathroom, wasn’t in the kitchen or main area, and wasn’t in the bedroom.
Their apartment wasn’t huge; there were only so many places to hide.
It was as if they’d vanished from existence.
But if bad shit had gone down, on top of what had happened yesterday…the pit in his stomach turned into a chasm.
“Are they there?” Meg’s voice grew tense.
Ollie strode over to the window, his shoulders tightening, and peered out to the street below them. One empty space stood out crystal clear.
“Their Ducati is missing.”
“Oh, shit.” Meg swore.
That told him everything.
They’d left him behind in their apartment, fucking bolted. And with the devastation that had crashed in on them yesterday combined with whatever new horrors Hera had pulled, he couldn’t guarantee they’d come back.
Not alive at least.
Fear surged through him like ice water, and his hand holding the phone trembled.
“Ollie, can you do me a favor?” Meg asked. Even though she sounded calm, the strain in her voice was clear.
“Anything you need.” The tension built up in him faster and faster, like centrifugal force. He’d been teetering on the edge, and this—this was one he wasn’t sure he’d come back from either. Yet all he could do was try.
“Stay there. The rest of us are going to look at their normal haunts, but if Fin decides to come home, I know you’re the one they’ll want to see most.”
Ollie didn’t have the heart to say they wouldn’t be at their usual haunts. Not after yesterday. Not after today. He was terrified to find out more about what Hera had done that had launched Fin right out the door. They’d been at their limit yesterday, and this would’ve shattered them.
“I’ll stay put.” Shit, what had he signed himself up for? He was stuck here in the house. Trapped while his heart and soul screamed.
“Stay strong, Ollie. We’ll track them down.” With that, Meg hung up.
Ollie stared at his phone for a second, then strode into the kitchen. He pressed the button to call Fin and paced. The phone rang once and then went to voice mail, which meant they probably had it turned off.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He crashed to his knees and let out a howl.
The sound reverberated around their empty apartment, but Fin didn’t appear.
The place held a hollow echo without their lively presence in it, and he had no way to contact them.
Hell, Meg wasn’t even aware of what had happened to Fin yesterday. The only person they’d let in was him.
And then had left him behind.
Part of him had always known they’d run when things got hard.
Maybe that was what had drawn them together in the first place.
They were two broken souls, both chasing escape wherever they could find it.
For Fin, it was living life fast, loud, and on edge.
For Ollie, it had been the shock of pain every time he cut.
And the urge grew so deafening he could barely focus on anything else. It was no longer an itch beneath his skin like it had been for a month. No, now it morphed into a howling storm brewing inside him, begging to be sliced free.
Every ugly thing that broiled inside him emerged, bubbling to the surface .
Of course Fin hadn’t stayed for him. He wasn’t able to help anyone. Useless. Forgettable.
He was a pit stop in everyone else’s life but never a destination.
His nails pricked his palms from his balled hands, but the slight shock of pain wasn’t enough. It couldn’t quell the howling force that built inside him.
What the fuck sort of disaster was he? He had a good family, a good job. Somewhere to fall back on. And yet he was reduced to this pitiful mess. Fucking weak. He hadn’t even been through the horrors Fin had, but he was the one falling apart.
Fuck, he was so tired of being like this.
Tears burned in his eyes as he pushed to a stand. The kitchen drawer was right there.
Ollie walked in as if his legs were magnetically compelled. When he opened the drawer, the glint of the knives ensnared him.
A quick slice.
Relief.
That was all he needed to do.
His breaths came out shaky and shattered, the force building inside him with such immensity he wasn’t sure how he’d survive. Just the sort that quaked the foundation, that made the walls tremble.
And his walls were completely down.
He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The knives gleamed back, full of promise.
Full of surrender.
Ollie’s hand rested on the handle of one. He hadn’t even realized he’d reached out. There was one thing he might be able to do. With his other hand, he pressed a number on speed dial. Put it on the counter and hit speaker.
It was a Hail Mary attempt.
And if he failed…the coolness of the metal knife handle weighed heavily in his hand. Just a sharp kitchen blade, but it’d get the job done.
“Ollie?” Julian’s voice sounded on speakerphone. “What’s going on?”
“I need you to talk to me,” he said, his voice thready and tremulous. “Just talk to me.”
“Okay? Fuck, what’s going on? Where are you?” The concern in his voice rose, and the need to placate added to the tension.
“Fin’s apartment,” he forced out. “Please, Jules. Babble about anything.”
“I’m on my way,” he said, rustling sounding around him. “Did you know Kay’s trying to create a My Little Pony costume for the next Comic Con we go to? ”
Tears slipped down his cheek, and his hand holding the knife trembled. This. This was what he needed. Clanks and thumps were followed by the ignition of a car.
“She’s got a wig for Rarity that’s going to be gorgeous, and she’s beyond excited. Five years old going on thirteen, I swear. Cal and I are still trying to figure out a couple’s costume, since we’ll both be taking her. Usually, he has to work those events, so he’s excited to attend for once.”
Ollie clutched the knife tight, listening to the soothing sound of his brother’s voice.
“Oh, and Izzy got partner at her firm,” Jules said. “She found out this morning. We’ll be doing a big party at some point to celebrate, even though Dad isn’t aware he’s hosting one yet.”
Jules fell silent for a moment. “You there?”
“Yeah,” he rasped, unable to force out more.
“So let me tell you what happened the last time I went to Tabletop Tavern.” He launched into a story about a customer who had tried to start a one-person protest over a certain game they hated.
Julian didn’t stop the whole time, rambling and occasionally checking in.
Ollie clutched the knife tight, but he focused on those words, on the voice of his brother, his greatest protector, that offered a lighthouse amid one vicious-as-fuck storm.
Even as the waves battered at him, even as he had to force himself to breathe, even as the urges grew so screamingly loud the knife inched forward, he listened.
He sailed onward.
He wasn’t sure how long had passed, only that he still stood there when the door creaked behind him.
“Ollie?” Julian asked, both on the speakerphone and in person.
“Here,” he forced out .
Julian’s footsteps echoed through the apartment like gunshots, and a second later, his brother stood in front of him.
“Get the knife away from me.” His whole body trembled. Only Dad had seen this breakdown, and that had pushed him straight into therapy. Julian’s eyes widened, but for once, he didn’t question anything. He reached forward, plucked the knife from Ollie, and flung it into the sink.
As if the knife in his hand had been a string keeping him upright, Ollie sagged forward. Julian stepped right up toward him and wrapped his arms around him tight.
“What the fuck happened?” he murmured, his voice choked. “Ollie, how long?”
Ollie collapsed into Julian’s arms as if he was a fucking kid and not bigger than him. He clutched his brother tight, and the tears coursed down his cheeks. Sob after sob racked him, his body heaving as it weathered the storm. As he forced himself to endure rather than escape.
Julian clutched him tight, his body shaking with his own tears.
Ollie wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, clasped together and pouring out emotion like a faucet had been turned on.
However, he couldn’t stop. His body ached, his soul screamed, but he stayed with his brother.
He clung to the familiarity of letting someone in when he needed them to most.
His breathing slowed, and the storm quieted. The urge that had been so deafening when he’d called Julian had receded bit by bit like the tide dragging back to the ocean.
“I’ve had the problem since high school,” he managed at last.
“Oh god,” Julian gasped, his voice choked with tears. “You’ve been dealing with this alone? ”
“Dad got me into therapy,” Ollie murmured, the tears a mere trickle now. “He, uh…found me in senior year. I asked him not to tell anyone.”
Julian tightened his grip on him. “All this time? You’ve been suffering all this time?” Julian’s deep-set eyes were glossy.
“I’ve been your burden my whole life,” Ollie said, his eyes stinging anew. “Who needs a suicidal mess like me?”
Julian pulled back, and his eyes flashed with anger.
Even though his brother was gentle by nature, he knew how to be fierce when he needed to.
“Oliver Hale. You have never, ever been a burden. Raising you and Ames was part of my journey and never one I regretted. I love our whole family, but you two? You’re mine. ”
A sob escaped Ollie, even though he’d believed he was dried up. Julian’s words were bricks thrown at the pain, guilt, and shame he’d built into castles over the years. He placed a hand over his mouth as he tried to suck in a breath, tried to calm himself again.
“Can we move to the couch?” Jules asked. “You’re a big linebacker type, and I’m just a waifish thing.”
“Waifish, my ass.” Ollie nodded to the sink where Jules had thrown the knife. “Just, uh, if you leave, can you take the knives?”
Julian arched a brow. “Excuse me. What makes you think I’m going anywhere?”
“You had to drop everything for me. I’m not going to make you stay around.” The guilt tugged at him, and he chewed on his lip.
“Kay’s at Sara’s this week, and I don’t have a shift until later today. And Izzy already interrupted my beauty sleep to tell me her news, so you can’t even blame yourself for that. Couch, now.”
Ollie staggered toward the couch, his entire body drained. He’d forgotten how depleted he was in the wake of one of those spells. Guaranteed his blood sugars would be a mess .
“Here.” Jules handed him a granola bar. “I snagged it on my way out in case you needed something sugary. You look like you could use it, though.”
He took the bar and sank into the couch before unwrapping it and inhaling it. Julian settled into place beside him.
“So any reason we’re in your…uh, partner’s apartment?” Jules asked. “And they’re not here. Why?”
Ollie licked his cracked lips and sucked in a shaky breath.
After the outpouring, numbness had settled in, and even though Fin’s departure sliced into him, he was able to view it a little more clearly.
“I came here last night. They were going through a rough time. Well, that’s an understatement, and they got more bad news this morning.
When I woke up, they were gone. Meg asked me to stay here in case they returned. ”
“They just left?” Julian asked, clearly not thrilled by the thin line of his mouth.
Except Ollie wasn’t surprised Fin had reacted the way they did. Not truly. His only hope was that they were okay. That they would come home. “The shit that happened to them…it was pretty horrific.”
All he could see was the bruise on their face their dad left there, remember how they crumpled against him last night. And if more curveballs had gotten lobbed their way? He understood far more than he’d like to.
“I just want them to come home,” he said.
Julian’s gaze softened. “You’re in pretty deep, aren’t you?”
He nodded, the truth resonating deep inside him. Fin had cemented themselves on him hard last night, and though they’d never admit it, they needed someone to come back to. Someone to stay.
In the past, he’d say he was too much of a mess. How could he take care of someone else when he not only had this struggle but also diabetes? Yet he’d reached out when he needed to. And the world hadn’t ended. If anything, he’d learned that maybe sharing the struggle made it survivable.
And he wanted to be that person for Fin.
“Hey, I’m proud of you.” Julian leaned back and got comfortable. “For reaching out. I know it isn’t always easy.”
“That’s one thing Fin and I have in common—miles and miles of emotional avoidance tactics,” Ollie joked, but then he softened. “Thank you for coming.”
“Always.” Jules gave him an affectionate grin.
Ollie held up his hands. “This is getting way too sappy. I’ve got to send a text to Fin, but then we’re back on brainstorming cosplay costumes for you and Cal, even if I won’t know most of the characters.”
“That’s fine. I have pictures.” Jules brought out his phone and pulled things up, so Ollie took the chance to type a message to Fin and hit Send.
All they could do was wait right now, but he wouldn’t abandon them.
They needed to know they weren’t alone.
And he was going to hold the line and hope they came home.