30. Olivia
Olivia
“Sure. Why not?” I say less enthusiastically, shaking my head.
This is dumb on so many levels. I trust no one on this campus, especially the man standing with his hands in his pockets, inspecting my shaky movements.
I mentally smack myself. Maybe the blood draw did a real number on my decision-making skills. I mean, I’m not fully convinced that what I saw five years ago wasn’t real. It felt real. The way their eyes glared down at me with so much disdain and hatred that I wanted to flee.
JJ says it wasn’t them. Says they weren’t there. Says they didn’t do it. He denies an awful lot about that night. Is it true? Is he lying? I’m still uncertain. He can tell me repeatedly, but it’s going to take more than a few words to convince me of what I witnessed when I was seventeen.
The moment I stand, the room swirls into an array of colors, making my stomach churn.
Tiny white dots sparkle in my vision, making a headache bloom in my brain.
Fuck. My feet stumble as I try to take a few shaky steps, and I’m stopped when warm arms wrap tightly around my body, keeping me upright and glued to a hard chest. I breathe in a few times, mesmerized by the scent wafting from him.
A taste of home. A dormant memory of hugging him in the forest when we were alone.
A scent that hasn’t changed in over five years, reminding me of the good times and not the bad.
“You’re dizzy?” JJ asks softly, keeping my face close to his chest. He turns us so his back is to the crowd of students in the auditorium, giving me a second to collect myself as the world shifts under my feet.
My heart slightly warms at the gesture. Even more so when he tightens his hold, softly running his fingers through my short strands.
His breath blows across the top of my head as I stupidly relax into his warmth, momentarily forgetting who he is and where I am.
Somehow, my body still trusts him to take care of me even if my brain doesn’t.
“Stand still for a minute, Spitfire. No one is watching,” he whispers with an edge of emotion creeping into his voice. “Stay.” It’s almost a choked plea. A desperate one, too. As he clings tighter to me, I let myself fall into this more. His grasp. His breaths. His smell.
That’s the thing when you lose your home. The one that helped build you. The one that wasn’t four walls. But the heart of it all. Your people. You grieve, but it never seems to be enough.
If I could go back in time and stop the fire and death from happening, I’d jump in a time machine and make it happen.
But it happened. I suffered. I died.
And it was possibly at his hands.
I clear my throat and take a deep breath as I back away from his chest. He doesn’t let me at first, forcing my gaze to his as his fingers intertwine in my hair.
“Better?” he murmurs, cocking his head as he checks me over. “You’re a little pale.” He shakes his head. “Maybe I should take you back to your dorm, and you can lie down. We can discuss this later.” His tongue pokes out, and he licks his lips. “Maybe…”
“No,” I blurt, stepping away from his orbit and finally breathing.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to…to…fall.” My words are softer than I’m accustomed to since coming to Greenwood and shifting the octave of my voice to fit in more.
“I still want to have that discussion.” I raise a brow, trying to pretend the stumble and embrace never happened.
Hug? What hug? He was steadying me as I was about to fall.
It was either JJ’s warm embrace or the ground.
JJ smiles softly. “Stubborn ass woman. You haven’t changed a bit,” he mutters under his breath.
“Besides, nothing to be sorry about, Spitfire. That’s not the first time that has happened.
Or the last.” He hides his hands in his pockets as he watches me.
“Now, how about we go for a walk? Feeling up to it still?” He tilts his head.
“We can always schedule a time later to discuss it. We’ll have to go off campus.
Away from the wizard watching us.” He gestures to the cameras on the ceiling, recording every fucking step a person takes.
“I’m fine now. I’ll be okay.” It is my motto for everyday life, after all. I’m fine. I’ll be okay. I’ve been living by that for years now. What’s one more day?
And maybe someday, I’ll say it enough and believe the words.
The bright, warm sun beams down on the two of us the moment we push through the double doors and exit the auditorium.
Familiar warmth fills my being as I momentarily close my eyes and fill myself with the sun’s rays.
Memories of my childhood run through my mind when I open my eyes and find JJ curiously staring at me from a distance with wonder in his eyes.
Does he feel the same way when he walks through campus?
Does he hold the memories we shared close to his chest?
Maybe. Or not. I can’t be too sure about him.
On the outside, JJ is put together and always composed.
There’s never a wrinkle in his facade. That’s how he’s always been, though.
Even as a child. He was tightly wound and guarded his past, present, and future.
Maybe that’s why the three of them worked so well together. The chaos. The composed. The constant. Mack. JJ. Huxley. Then, there was me. The center of it all.
Some days, I dream of having that again. Other days, I’m horrified at the thought.
“Are you good?” he asks again with concern when I finally take a step toward him.
“I’m fine,” I say again, waving off his concern.
My thoughts take over again when I follow him down the winding paths through campus, past Jenni’s bakery, the dorms, the administrative building, and into the grassy quad between the buildings, heading to… Well, I don’t know. I wasn’t myself enough to ask where he intended to take me.
I followed. So trusting. So stupid. Ugh.
By the time my mind kicks back into agent mode, and I realize the potential danger I wandered into, it’s too late.
Dry sticks snap beneath our feet, and the dry, brittle air surrounds us in its earthy scent.
The bright sun filters through the coast oaks’ canopy, shining down on us as we move farther through the trees, underbrush, and fallen leaves.
My heart picks up speed the further we get into the woods between the cemetery, my old home, and the mansion on the top of the hill.
This was our playground. Our safe spot.
And I’ve followed him here without a second thought. Maybe that blood draw did more to me than I thought. Or maybe it’s the hangover fucking with me.
“You’re not leading me to an ambush, are you?” I joke, feeling solace in the emptiness around us. The only sounds between us are birds chirping, animals foraging through the leaves, and our footsteps echoing off the massive trees.
“Don’t you trust me?” he stupidly asks, looking over his shoulder with a smile that instantly falls when he sees the look on my face.
I’d almost feel bad, but I need to remember he’s the enemy here.
“Right. I still have more work to do.” There’s a defeated edge creeping into his tone as his shoulders hunch, and he sighs heavily.
“Well, this should be good enough,” he says, leading me straight to our old, tattered treehouse.
“There are no cameras around here. Much to Mack’s dismay. ”
The ladder extends from the treehouse to the ground; the remnants of my destruction are long gone.
My lips pop open at the emptiness I see inside.
Gone are the shards of knick-knacks, shredded pillows, and pink curtains.
Every ounce of personality we had put into the treehouse to make it ours is gone.
It’s stripped bare. Courtesy of me after JJ found me out.
“He’s worked hard to remove everything that was destroyed up there. He’s scheming on how to buy back everything and replace it with exact matches. He didn’t want it to change. It was almost a shrine,” JJ says, looking up toward the treehouse with furrowed brows.
“Who?” I clear my throat, taking myself away from the memories that always swirl in the back of my head, reminding me of what I once had, and what can’t be anymore.
No matter how much my heart aches while standing here before JJ and the one place we all found peace in.
“Mack,” he whispers his name so softly. Almost as if he is afraid he’ll summon him here.
His dark eyes dart around the woods, and he heaves a breath.
“Losing you hit him the hardest. He’s become reckless, putting his life in danger.
He really misses you, Spitfire. He…” He rolls his lips together.
“He sits at your grave every morning after he runs and tells you stories, like you’re listening to him. ”
Like we used to.
“Buttercup,” Mack whines, pulling me close as we sit together near the back of the treehouse. His head leans against the pink pillows. The same ones he complained about a few days ago.
“Hmm?” I hum, laying my head on his shoulder and soaking up the warmth and comfort he gives me.
“I had a bad day,” he whispers. “Sometimes I don’t think this life is for me. But I don’t really have a choice.” He goes on to say more, confiding in me while JJ and Hux are off running errands for Franco.
Gently, I take his hand in mine and squeeze as he finishes speaking. “The sunshine will always erase away the darkness,” I murmur, trying to offer him solace from the shit he’s going through.
He gently squeezes my hand in his with a heavy sigh. “It always does, Buttercup.” The warmth of his lips connects with my temple as he sucks in a calming breath and blows it out. “Even if the sunshine doesn’t erase all this bleary shit, I have you. You are my sunshine at the end of a shitty day.”
I swallow down the memories. Again. It’s always happening around these parts. In this goddamn, infected town. Every corner I turn, our memories are there, ready to pull me under and drown me in them.