The irony in this entire situation was the fact that the police had more than they realized. Keirah could be used against him in any way they imagined. Noir might or might not actually do anything about the change in plans, but the police could surely try.
Ha. If only they knew.
It wouldn’t matter, of course. Nothing would. Keirah was already certain for a while now that she would die for the man. Nothing would scare her into giving him up. Nothing in the world.
He was all she had, and if she could help it, she would never let him go.
26
“Ollo,” Reese said after lunch, leaning back against the log. Her stomach churned as it began to digest the food. Ollo seemed pleased at the fact that he had made it himself, and she made sure to finish it to show her appreciation. She was by no means a rabbit fan, but even she could admit that it wasn’t half bad.
He picked his eyes up from his truck—he must have been studying it for quite some time—and locked them on hers. She felt herself blush at the simple action, and scrunched her nose up in frustration.
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” she muttered more to herself than to him. “We’re supposed to have sex.”
Ollo cocked his head to the side and gave her a look. “Come again?” he asked, deadpan.
“The vision I had,” she explained, her voice more steady than she thought it would be. In fact, it was easier talking to him about it than keeping it from him. “You’re in it. We’re having sex. And from what I saw, it almost seemed as though …” This was the part where the blush came back and her entire face burst into flames. “… as though we had done it before.”
“Before …” Ollo let his voice trail off, confusion evident in his eyes.
“Before,” she repeated again, as though this would explain everything. “You know. Before.” She sighed, recognizing the look on his face to mean that he still didn’t get it. “As in, we’ve done it more than once.”
“Oh, before.” Even she knew that he had no idea what she was talking about until right then. “Before. We’ve had sex before.”
“But in the future.”
There was an awkward silence that hung in the air, and Reese let the cool breeze carry her eyes away from Ollo and toward her surroundings. The clouds were still a dreary grey, but rays of light poked through, demanding entrance and attention. The air was cold and bitter and moved the crisp leaves back and forth. Reese’s wet hair was wrapped in a towel and she was in a new change of clothes topped off with a heavy jacket. There was something beautiful about transitions, she decided. Something bright and hopeful about a bleak, lifeless environment. Onyx rarely got snow, but she wouldn’t be surprised if this year was different. Snow would only add to the woodlands and their beauty, and, in her opinion, would probably add romance to it.
“Say something.”
Reese blinked and looked back at Ollo. He really was beautiful, in a rough-around-the-edges kind of way. Color fleshed out his skin, and his eyes were brighter now that he stopped drinking. He wasn’t as brash or lacking focus; he had passion and a thirst for life that she hadn’t seen, ever. It made her stomach squirm and her insides transform into melted gold, slowing down her digestive process. How was he so flawless in all of his imperfections? It had to be some kind of superpower.
“Darl,” he said, then amended it to, “Reese.” He sat across from her around their man-made fire pit, but somehow his voice made him seem closer to her. More intimate. “You have to tell me something. Anything. Regarding this matter. Please.”
Please.
Ollo never said please. And then she noticed the desperation he hid so well in his voice come out in his eyes like the glow of the moon behind those dark purple clouds. He needed some kind of lifeline from her. Which was different, since she was always on the receiving end of it from Ollo. And now this was her opportunity to be there for him. Except, if she was completely honest with him, if she opened her mouth to speak, she would have no idea what would come out. What did he want her to say? What could she say when she, herself, had no idea what she wanted. She knew how she felt about him—anyone could tell if they looked into her eyes—but she didn’t know if she wanted to be with him right now. If it was the right decision to be with him right now. She had to be a Seer in this war; she had to be a kind of savior, on top of being a student, a junior varsity soccer player working to get on the varsity team, a daughter and sister trying to protect her family, and, on top of all that, she had to learn archery and actually be good at it. To add a relationship on top of that would be …
And would Ollo even want to be her boyfriend? She wasn’t the type of girl to just lay her heart on the line when she liked a guy. Would he be willing to give up the right to be with someone else in any capacity just to be with her? Would he be willing to put up with her dad’s icy glare, her mother’s innocently flirtatious compliments, and her brother’s deadpan sarcasm? Would he take her out on a date and compliment her? Would he hold her hand and offer her his jacket because a lot of her outfits would not go with any sort of jacket except whatever one he chose to wear that evening? Would he kiss her like he meant it and take her dancing, even though he didn’t like dancing and she wasn’t good at it?
“I—”
She was an all-or-nothing girl. If she allowed herself to be with him, really be with him, he would become her first priority. She would drop everything if he just said her name. She would risk everything just to ensure his safety. And that meant her job as a savior was compromised. Because the minute she said something, the minute they acknowledged that they wanted to be together, the world and the people that made up that world would take a backseat to him.
His eyes continued to remain desperate. He didn’t even try to hide it from her anymore. He needed some sort of response from her, and she would give it to him. He deserved that much from her. So she picked up her pride, took a deep breath, and locked eyes with the man in front of her.
“I’m in love with you, Ollo,” she told him, her voice more serious than tender. “And it’s crazy, because I was never supposed to fall in love with you. You don’t shave, or shower that often, you drank more than you spoke, you were either bossing me around or being sarcastic. And you gave me that ridiculous nickname—darl. I still have no idea what it means. To me, it just sounds like you’re too lazy to say darling.” She paused, realizing she was getting off the subject. “But then I saw you on your hands and knees, throwing up in your toilet bowl, and …” She shook her head, still in disbelief. “And I lost it. I fell for you a little. No one has ever done something like that. I’m not saying you did it for me; you did it because it was the right thing to do. And I’ve never met a guy who has put the right decision above himself. Ever. And then I got to know you. The thing is, you frustrate the eff out of me. But that’s who you are and I love you for it.”
Even though she paused, Ollo still chose to remain silent. She wasn’t sure if it was because he knew she wasn’t finished yet or if he was giving himself some time to let her words sink in. Either way, she was grateful for the opportunity to catch her breath and collect her thoughts.
“But I don’t think now is the right time for us to be together.”
The minute the words were out of her mouth, she knew—she knew—she wanted him. She wanted to be with him. It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t be selfish and keep him. It wasn’t fair that she had to step into a role she never asked for and assume all the responsibilities that went along with it. All she wanted was to be with Ollo, and he was the one thing she couldn’t have. At least not yet. She clenched her teeth together to keep her tears at bay. She refused to cry again simply because life wasn’t fair.
Ollo licked his bottom lip and looked down. He was resting his forearms on his thighs, his fingers interlocked in a loose embrace. How was he so quiet? Why was he so calm? Unless she simply misread the signs and he didn’t feel the same way about her. Which meant she ruined everything between them and how could they work together now th
at there was a black hole between them sucking up where there once was—
“But we do get together,” he pointed out, meeting her stare with his. They weren’t desperate anymore; if anything, they had determined resolve in them. “At some point in the future. At least sexually. And by your observations, it happens more than once.”
Reese nodded once. “Yes,” she agreed.
“So it will happen,” he continued. “Because we can’t change what happens in your visions.”
“Right.”
“So it’s all a matter of waiting for the right moments.” He emphasized the s in moments.
“Yes.”
“However, there is a matter of when this is supposed to happen,” he pointed out, sitting up straight.
Reese furrowed her brow. “What?” she asked, her voice flat. She wanted to be with him as much as he did—or so she assumed—what did it matter when that was as long as it happened in the first place? It wasn’t as though they looked any different; it must be at some point in the near-future.
“May I be blunt?” he asked in a tone that matched hers. This was the Ollo she knew: sarcastic and brash.
“Aren’t you always?” she said, raising her brow.
He smiled, his face suddenly boyish. “Touché, darl,” he said with what sounded like pride. “Anyway, the matter of when is crucial. Not because of our desires of a rushed timeline—though the desires are there—but because of your visions.” When Reese continued to stare at him, he gave her a rare look of impatience. Under normal circumstances, they would be on opposite roles. “When you lose your virginity to someone important to the war, your visions change. Not based on the man or the woman you lose it to, but based on the choice you make.
“Think of it this way,” Ollo began again, “you are pure. Purity, in this sense, is equal to neutrality. However, once you make a choice to lose that purity—neutrality—if you choose to lose it during or before the war, you have consciously and actively chosen a side.”
“But haven’t I chosen a side?” Reese asked. “You woke me and my powers up.” When you kissed me. “You obviously side with God.”
“With the angels,” Ollo corrected. “Despite what fantasies claim, God doesn’t sanction war under any circumstances, even if it involves Heaven and its inhabitants.”
“If you’re the one training me, aren’t you shaping me to be a warrior for the angels?” Reese asked.
“Do I have to remind you of the importance of free will?” he said with a teasing smile. “You are your own person, Reese. You make your choices under no influences but your own. Regardless of what choice you make, you were born for this role. You were destined to be the Seer, the archer. I was born to train you. You can either choose one way or the other, or you don’t have to choose at all. At least not sexually. Eventually, you will, when the war starts, you will need to fight and you’ll have to choose just what you’re fighting for. But you can keep your body as pure and as neutral as it is in this moment.”
“This is complicated.” Her forehead pinched.
“Sex usually is.”
“No.” Reese opened her eyes so she could lock them with his. “No, it’s not. Granted, I’ve never actually had it, but the concept remains the same; two people love each other and the way they express that love is physical. Obviously there are variations of that simple explanation, but the concept is generally the same.
“What’s complicated is making the right choice. I know I love you. I know I want to be with you and see where things go, and if that means sex, so be it. But is it right for me to choose all of that when I need to be a savior? Is it right to choose you when I have to worry about saving Onyx?”
Ollo gave Reese a lopsided smile that didn’t reach his eyes. If anything, he looked almost … reluctant. Hesitant. “Darl, as I said, it’s completely your choice,” he murmured, his voice suddenly soft. “What you have to resolve for yourself is this: Am I the right choice for you?”
27
Black Wing had always had quick reflexes, so when Andie slipped into unconsciousness and slumped forward, he caught her in his arms with ease. Slipping her knees over his arm, and then curling his other one around her back, he carefully lifted her up and headed out of the warehouse without so much as a second glance at Aaron, currently unconscious as well and bleeding, but not profusely. The homeless men who had been previously slumped against the outer walls of the storage warehouse had disappeared into the night; Jack assumed it was to find some sort of shelter. It didn’t take him long to get home, not when he flew. Maybe five minutes. Once there, he would call a physician and have them come out to his home despite the late hour. Before unfurling his wings, Jack gazed at Andie’s face. Despite her trials tonight, she actually looked somewhat serene, and before he could stop himself, he slipped off one of his gloves and traced her bottom lip with the tip of his finger. He smiled, and then bit his lip, the memory of the kiss the two had engaged in a while ago replaying in his mind. God, he had wanted to do that for so long, and he wanted to do it again. And again. And again.
After another moment of simply gazing at her face, he called Commissioner Jarrett to report what had happened that night and where Aaron’s whereabouts were. When Jarrett inquired about the girl, Black Wing just said that he would see to it that she was returned to her home safely, and made sure a doctor came and checked her out. He knew Jarrett wouldn’t mind; not with the majority of the force still trying to figure out who had murdered the Lespoirs.
“Beverly,” Jack murmured on his headset, as soon as he was a few blocks away from the manor. “Call Dr. Hobbs and get him here as soon as possible.”
“Yes.”
The first thing Jack did once they were tucked away in one of his many garages was to climb three staircases in order to take Andie and place her on the bed in her room. His eyes quickly glanced around at the walls, and he was quickly reassured that she hadn’t planned on leaving, at least that night. Her posters of John Cusack and the like were still decorating the walls of the room, adding her own uniqueness to an otherwise plain room. God, he was so glad she was all right. He didn’t even want to think about what he would have done if she was in worse shape. Before he could stop himself, he knelt down and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, before kissing her softly on the forehead.
“Jack?” Beverly’s voice came from the doorway. The hall light seeped in, but even if it hadn’t, she would still have known that a look of conflicted agony was written on her ward’s face. “Doctor Hobbs will be here in a few minutes. Is there anything I can assist you with?”
Jack glanced down at Andie, realizing he needed to slip out of his costume before the good doctor arrived, and before Andie awoke. “Yeah,” he said, standing up and heading toward his aunt. “Will you come in and change her into something loose and comfortable? I’ll be back in a few minutes to check up on her.”
Beverly knew it wouldn’t do any good insisting that Jack needed sleep himself, and nothing was going to change whether he was by her side or in his room. Instead of changing Andie into a pair of her own pajamas, Beverly grabbed an old grey T-shirt and a pair of boxers that both belonged to Jack.
Jack changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt and answered the door after the doorbell rang. After apologizing for the lateness of the call, he quickly ushered Dr. Hobbs to Andie’s room. Even he wasn’t immune to staring for a quick moment at the decorative wallpaper on Andie’s wall, and Jack smiled a small, amused smile, though it had yet to reach his eyes.
After a long inspection that lasted nearly twenty minutes, Dr. Hobbs turned to Jack. “She’ll be okay,” he said in his usual facts-only tone. “I believe she suffered a mild concussion, but she’ll be okay. I checked her reaction, and her eyes are responsive despite the fact that she is unconscious. What she needs now, above everything, is rest. And when she wakes up, she’ll probably have one hell of a headache.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Jack said and walked the doctor to the door.
Once Dr. Hobbs was gone, Jack headed back into Andie’s room and pulled out the desk chair. He would probably be sore in the morning without a doubt, sitting in a rather uncomfortable chair for a long period of time, but it didn’t matter. He needed to be by her, to be there when she woke up. So he took a seat readying himself for the coming night, and on second thought, reached over and took Andie’s hand in his before quickly drifting off into a light doze.
Her head hurt like a mother. God, she needed aspirin. She needed something to make the pain go away. She tightened her eyes closed, and then began to realize that she was now in a different environment. Instead of lying on cold cement, she was warm, wrapped with soft blankets. Though her head was hurting her, it was resting on something soft as well. Maybe a pillow.
Oh God.
She was in a bed.
He didn’t … you know …
Blinking her eyes rapidly, her eyes looked up at a very familiar ceiling. At first, it was blurry and hard to make out, but then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed very familiar pictures of John Cusack. She let out a groan and was about to reach up and grasp her forehead, but something prevented her from doing so. Something warm. Something soft, while rough at the same time. She looked to her left and couldn’t believe what she saw. In fact, she forgot her pain; she forgot everything except the look on Jack’s face while he was sleeping.
God, he looked so adorable. A few stray strands of chestnut hair littered his face, and his lips were slightly parted. He was curled up in what looked like a relatively uncomfortable position in a very uncomfortable chair. What was he doing here? It was then that she realized he was holding her hand. That was why she couldn’t move it. A sense of security took over her, and she smiled to herself.
“Hey,” a husky voice said, and Andie quickly looked back up at Jack. His eyes were halfway open, but he could see Andie, and she looked well.
Catalyst: Book 2 of The Dark Paradise Trilogy Page 21