Chapter 48
Ollie stared blankly out the window, his phone clenched in one hand as tears silently trailed down his face. The raindrops on the windows felt like they were mimicking him.
Grimacing as he was reminded, once again, of just how wet he was, he quickly added a much larger tip on the rideshare app, before looking back out the window.
Taking a shuddering breath, Ollie straightened slightly when he realized he was at most two miles from home.
Jahla…he needed Jahla! Red would be there, but…
Swallowing hard, he shakily pulled up her number and hit call.
The ringing went on for a long time, and it almost felt too loud in the silent car. Ollie was beginning to worry she wouldn’t pick up, when the call finally connected.
“Ollie?” Jahla rasped, her voice hoarse from sleep.
“I-I…I need you,” he sobbed. His attempt to hide that he was crying failed almost instantly.
His friend was quiet for only a brief moment before sounding far more awake when she said, “I’m on my way.”
“T-thank y-you,” he stuttered, before hanging up. He slipped his phone into the pocket of his pajama bottoms, as that was all he was wearing. Ollie winced. He...hadn’t grabbed his messenger bag, which happened to have his purse inside.
So, yep…his wallet, containing his ID and credit cards, was back at his witch hunter boyfriend’s house… Good job, Ollie, he thought with disgust.
Angrily rubbing at his eyes, Ollie leaned his face against the cool glass and sighed. He stayed in that position, his tears never stopping, until the driver cleared his throat. “There’s the Cross Heritage Private Library. Though…they aren’t open…”
“I-I own it, so…” Ollie trailed off, and instead of continuing to awkwardly cry in the man’s car, he quickly got out, stepping back into the rain and cold without another word.
He winced, hopping on one foot for a moment as he accidentally cut the bottom of his left on a small rock in the parking lot, but he ignored the pain in favor of hurrying to the door.
Shivering, and almost definitely bleeding, he stood there in the now-steady rain and stared at it, realizing he didn’t even have his keys.
“Fuck!” Ollie whimpered as his tears started falling faster.
Crouching with a sob, he hugged his knees tight and took a few deep, struggling breaths, trying to calm down.
After a brief moment of self-pity, disbelief, and perhaps a bit of self-disgust, he forced himself to stand back up and press the doorbell.
Ollie took one breath after another as he waited, frowning when minutes passed and no one answered. He rang it again, and when there was still no response, he angrily tugged on one of the door handles in frustration, and weakly called out, “Red!”
Ollie stumbled back when the door opened after a few desperate pulls, and he just barely managed to stop himself from falling on his ass.
After finding his footing, Ollie hurried inside. Closing the door behind him, his brow pulled in confusion when he found no one waiting for him.
“Red?” When the only answer was silence, he called out louder. “Red?!”
Was…his cat not home? But Red never went out without him… Ollie sagged. Or maybe he did and just never told him about it. But if Red wasn’t there…how had the door…
He rolled his eyes. Right…witch…why be shocked? He was a witch, so of course he could open a stupid door. Sniffling, he limped slightly up the steps, not caring that he was trailing water, mud, and a little blood in his wake.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Ollie hobbled around the circulation desk and grabbed the spare keys from the locked drawer, after retrieving the key to it from a different one.
Setting the keys down, he sat in Jahla’s chair, pulled out wet wipes from a drawer and proceeded to clean his feet.
After disinfecting the small cuts he'd found as best he could, and coating them with a hefty amount of Neosporin, Ollie covered them with a few bandaids and stood back up.
Keys in hand, Ollie headed up the stairs, calling out for Red on each floor, only to get the same response—silence.
Taking a shuddering breath, he rubbed more tears away when he reached the third floor, and tried to think rationally. Like, it was the middle of the night. “It’s fine. It’s early. Red is probably upstairs sleeping…”
But when Ollie got to his living quarters, searched every inch of them, and found no cat, a hard sob slipped out as he reached the bottom of the spiral staircase after checking the bedroom.
“N-no, t-this is f-fine. I-it’s fine. He…
He probably just went o-out. It’s n-not like Red l-left me behind, right? ”
Ollie just… He just wanted to hug someone! Was that too much to ask?!
“P-Pumpkin! I-I’ll find Pumpkin!” He hurried into the secret library, where Pumpkin loved to stay, and loudly called out, “Pumpkin!” Ollie swallowed hard. “Pumpkin, come to Daddy!”
He stood there stiffly in the middle of the room, waiting for a soft meow, or even a brush of coldness, but nothing came.
Ollie’s breath stuttered for a moment, as more tears flooded his eyes, before he managed to choke out again, “P-Pumpkin?”
Alone… He was alone…completely alone…
Red glared ahead at nothing, irritated by the rain as he ran toward the library's front door. Of all the nights he could have chosen to try contacting Rowden again, he had to pick the one with unplanned rain. And as the attempt had failed, it made his current drenched state even more infuriating.
Red had just reached the front door and was about to magically open one side when he looked back at the sound of a vehicle. He frowned on spotting Jahla’s blue Chevy Trax pulling to a sharp stop in front of the library.
His brow rose as she rushed toward him, blurting out, “What’s going on? Where is Ollie? Is he okay?!”
“What are you doing here?”
“Ollie called me, sounding upset.”
“I… He wasn’t here. He was with…” Red trailed off as worry began to creep in. Looking toward the door, he allowed his mind to reach out. “Shit!” he cursed as soon as he touched Ollie’s mind, and was hit with a wave of despair.
Throwing the doors open with a burst of untethered magic, he sprinted up the steps, and inside the library, Jahla trailing behind him.
Red padded to a stop as he reached the top of the stairs, and spotted Ollie sitting on the floor in front of the circulation desk, his pajamas soaked through.
His wet red hair hung down limply around his tear-stained face, as he shivered and stared blankly ahead, his eyes puffy and his nose red.
Ollie’s gaze suddenly flicked up to them, and his face crumpled as he let out a hiccupping sob. “I-I can’t find P-Pumpkin… Or…Annabel… A-and m-my boyfriend…my sweet and wonderful boyfriend…who has always treated me so well… He's a-a witch hunter who wants me d-dead!”
Shit…he had hoped they’d have more time…
Ollie hiccupped again and sniffled, his tears beginning to slow as he watched Red and Jahla’s expressions change. And as he watched the faces of two of the most important people in his life shift from worry to guilt, something in him shattered further.
Swallowing hard as more pain sliced through his chest, he let out a laugh that was half sob and all bitterness, pushing himself to his feet. “Y-ou both knew.”
When they remained silent, the guilt etching itself further across their faces, something in Ollie snapped. “YOU KNEW!”
“Ollie, you have—”
“NO, Red! Don’t ‘Ollie’ me. I don’t have to do anything!
You knew, and you chose to keep it from me!
Just like everything else! Maybe you I could understand.
I’m sure there’s some fucking reason you decided that this was something else I didn’t deserve, or wasn’t worthy of knowing, of being trusted with—but you, Jahla?
You’re my best friend. My best friend! But then, maybe that has always just been in my head—”
“Ollie, you are! It wasn’t—” Jahla tried to cry out, but he cut her off.
“Then what was it?! Didn’t think I could take it?? Didn’t think I was smart enough to deal with the situation? Or maybe you both just thought I was too useless?! Is that it? Am I so useless that it wasn’t worth me knowing?”
“Ollie, you aren’t useless,” she rasped softly, swallowing hard as tears formed in her eyes.
Under normal circumstances, he’d hug her. He wanted to hug her, but he couldn’t. Ollie had no one left to hug, because everyone had been lying to him.
“Well, I must be, because it sure as fuck seems like I am ALWAYS the last person to know. And you know what?! I don’t know why I am even shocked—ha.
It’s always been like this. I have never been worth anything to anyone.
I've never really been wanted by anyone, because in most people’s eyes, I have never been good enough to keep around.
“So, my best friend and my cat, the two people who I thought were my family, decided I was too stupid, or whatever, to know that my boyfriend wasn’t real.
Not only was he not real, but he would actually be fine if I were dead, and even worse, he'd be okay with being the one to do it...in the various horrifying ways he’d already killed who knows how many like me!
Ha—no big deal! Just another Sunday in the life of Oliver ‘Ollie’ Wisteria Cross. ”
Ollie whimpered as a hard sob forced its way out. Not wanting to cry in front of them any longer, he turned away, walking carefully towards the stairs in his bare feet, even though he wanted to stomp. When he heard them try to follow, without even looking back, he snapped, “Don’t follow me!”
Once he reached the first step, Ollie started running.
He just needed to get away from them, and didn't care if he hurt his feet further.
He kept going until he reached his apartment again.
Angrily slamming the front door behind him, Ollie roughly rubbed at his eyes.
A distressed whimper slipped past his lips as he entered his kitchen and glanced around, feeling utterly lost.
His heart hurt like there was a bloody hole where it should be, and there were too many thoughts in his head to even begin to make sense of any of it.
He just felt so worthless. And he was. Ollie, apparently, couldn’t be trusted with anything.
Even with things that were likely putting him in danger, as he stupidly believed and hung on to every word he was told.
Lies…it had all been lies. He had tried so hard, and it was…never enough. Why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t he enough?!
Ollie whimpered again, sobbing softly for a moment as he covered his mouth, trying to hide the sound in case his so-called friend and cat had followed.
With his breath still stuttering, he hiccupped and looked around his kitchen again, his gaze stopping as he spotted the cauldron sitting where he’d left it a little over twelve hours ago.
Staring at the now-cool potion, he hesitated for a moment before deciding that, maybe he was useless, but he could at least do something.
Once he was at the counter, he unplugged the burner and uncorked the three bottles. Lifting the cauldron up, grateful that it had a small pouring spout on one side, he carefully filled each bottle to the marked fill line with the murky dark-purple liquid, before recorking them.
That was done, he hurried to the hallway closet.
Digging through its contents, he pulled out an old messenger bag he rarely used and snagged three scarves, before returning to the kitchen.
Padding the inside of the bag with the scarves, he used them to keep the glass bottles separate as he set them inside, along with his notebook that contained the spell.
Ollie was about to pull the strap of his old messenger bag across his chest, when he glanced down and spotted his wet pajamas. A large shiver ran through him, as if just noticing how wet he was had been enough to remind him that he was cold.
“Change…I need to change first…”