Even When I'm Gone (Stay With Me series Book 2)

by Nicole Fiorina

  “I’m afraid,” he confessed in my ear while his hips leaned between my legs. “I’m going to fall apart.”

  Ollie had explained once before how our sex made him feel. When we collide, the moment shakes him to the core, licks his wounds, and the wave of emotions he experienced was colossal—my Ollie.

  The first time we’d ever made love, after going through all of that, I’d closed him off in his most vulnerable state. The second time, he’d broken down in the bathroom in the shower stall. It took time for Ollie to build up enough trust with me to know I wasn’t going anywhere. And then he had slipped, and we had to start over. When we made love in the library, he’d cried in my arms. Then after that, fucked me in my dorm. Ollie had every right to feel afraid.

  “Fall apart so we can fall in place, together,” I reassured him.

  His eyes snatched mine as he ran his hands up my thighs. I kicked off my shoes. He yanked off my jeans. I tugged down his pants. He removed his shirt before my own. I unlatched my bra, and It had all happened so fast until our bodies crashed.

  Then we slowed.

  Lips made with precision traced my jawline as my center ached, but Ollie took his time while his arousal pressed against me. His hands grabbed my bottom, pulling me to the edge. Every touch and kiss remained gentle, slow, and long-lasting, drifting down my neck and to my breasts.

  My back curved into him as he blessed both of my nipples before moving down. Though I was ready, he’d always took his time and tasted every surface. His hand pushed me backward until my back met the cold piano. My breath hitched when his warm lips kissed over my pelvis, sensual and heavy. My heart lost control when his hands wrapped around my sex and massaged me apart. My hips curled into his mouth when deep full strokes of his tongue trudged through my center before his lips covered my clit.

  Gentle thrusts of his tongue drove me mad and closer, and my breath held as he pulled away. His arm snaked around my back as he lifted me until I was against him, needing the closeness as his thick head pressed against my entrance. I wrapped my arm around his neck, and his fingertips crept along the sensitive skin, down my arm and side, before gripping my thigh.

  Our eyes latched onto one another, and then he drove himself inside me.

  It wasn’t until we were connected entirely did our mouths fall in line. Ollie’s tongue slipped inside as he kissed me unhurriedly, grinding so slow and torturously while his thumb pressed firmly over my clit.

  Ollie fell apart. I fell apart.

  But we fell together.

  Hard.

  “I love you,” his voice shook through our kiss and his hand wrapped around the back of my head to keep me together from turning into liquid. “Consuming, timeless, unselfish, love. I’d loved you in my darkest hour when I wasn’t myself, and I’ll love you in every lifetime after this.” My body shook under his utter honesty—never holding back, leaving himself exposed in such a raw state.

  “Ollie … ” I started to say.

  “I know, Mia,” he stopped me, unable to contain my response. “I know.”

  And our mouths slammed once more, and his cock throbbed against my walls. His palms landed over my thighs, and his fingers dragged across my skin as he came closer. I wrapped my legs around him as he stroked deeply inside me and my sex clenched around him on edge, ready to break—a perfect rapture bursting at the seams.

  It wasn’t until I let go when he chased my climax and held our kiss. Our bodies slick against one another and are hearts on fire, Ollie reached that holy feeling, and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

  “Marry me, Mia,” he said breathlessly. “I had it all planned out, but what better time than right now? Look at us. Stripped down as one. Bare and bound to one another, just made sweet love. Bloody hell, I’m still going, and I can’t believe I’m able to speak right now … fuck … marry me.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d been certain since my heart found yours, and I thought the moment had to be perfect. But this is so perfect—

  “Ollie,” I let out a small laugh, “I said yes.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded.

  He grabbed my head and pulled me toward him for another kiss, smiles never leaving either one of us.

  “Mia, I’m literally shaking,” Ollie said through a laugh and pulled my hand to his heart. “Fuck. I can’t imagine anyone as happy as you just made me right now.” He let out a heavy and shaky exhale.

  Sunday morning, I awoke with a smile and Ollie by my side. Ollie had convinced Ethan to let him sleep in my dorm, and relief set in knowing I’d never have to sleep through a night terror alone again.

  Hopefully.

  I shouldn’t speak too soon, because if there was one thing I’d learned, anything could change like a flip of a switch … No pun intended.

  “You don’t need a shower,” Ollie groaned, voice thick and husky and eyes still closed. “You smell amazing.”

  A light laugh left me. “You don’t have to come. I’ll be fine. Just go back to sleep, and I’ll be right back.” The sun hadn’t come out yet—the dorm in complete darkness—and I gathered my things into my arms. He knew I preferred morning showers, and on most days, he’d join me. But we had been celebrating through the night, and he was exhausted from not getting any sleep the night before.

  The hallway was empty. Ethan must have had the night off at home. I padded down the dark hall and toward the bathroom. Mindlessly, I went through my morning routine, flipped the light switch, turned on the shower, and stared at my own reflection, looking for changes.

  I was someone’s fiancé, and not just anyone’s. I was Ollie’s. My face smiled back at me, and I dropped my chin before pushing off the counter, remembering the days I’d never imagined getting married to anyone and how the most significant changes were happening inside of me.

  After two minutes of being under the shower, the entire bathroom went into complete darkness.

  “Hello?” I called out.

  The only sound in return was the shower pouring overhead.

  I reached my hand out in front of me, unable to see anything.

  Then a loud smash pierced the room as the sound of glass falling to the floor followed close behind.

  My entire body froze until a second mirror broke. I curled in the corner of the shower stall, wanting to scream, but nothing could escape me.

  All I saw was darkness around me.

  All I heard was the crunching of glass under footsteps.

  Then the sound of my curtain against its rod whipped through the eeriness.

  Two gloved hands grabbed me from the corner and yanked me from the stall.

  I fought against them but was unable to get a solid grip. I reached out to grab their face, but it was covered. I tried to find hair to pull, but a hood was over their head. My bare feet slid along the glass, and jagged edges sliced through my skin. Water dripped from my hair, falling to the floor, and mixed with blood and glass.

  The figure pushed me back across the floor; my healing wounds broke once again. Fear gripped me as I fought against them, crying out for help. I screamed until my throat burned and all the air left my legs. Hands yanked my ankles, pulling me through the glass until something hard struck my head.

  I went limp for a moment when all I wanted to do was fight. I had no control over my limbs. A hand fisted my wet hair and dragged me across the floor until my back was against a wall. They said nothing as tears rolled down my cheeks. My cries came out as whispered pleas, and I was afraid to move. Each time I tried to lift myself against the tile, the pain of the glass cut deeper.

  And then they took a piece of glass to my thigh. It burned, and I screamed out from the excruciating pain until another blow to the head silenced me.

  “Please, Jude,” I begged. “Please stop this.”

  The silent figure moved the glass up to my center, and
before they could slice another part of me, I pushed them onto their back. I tried to stand to run, but they were faster.

  My head slammed back against the tile, and I spiraled through the blackness.

  Cold air surrounded me as I floated. A light beamed overhead behind my eyelids, merely warming me, though not completely. For a split second, it was beautiful—until my consciousness kicked back, and the pain replaced the peace.

  Death would’ve been easier, but the agony in Ollie’s cries never would’ve made it worth it. “Mia! Someone fucking talk to me!” he screamed out. My eyes shot open to see a crowd of unfamiliar faces staring straight ahead. I tried to get up when someone pushed my shoulders back down. Ethan appeared out of nowhere, taking my hand into his at my side as I was wheeled across Dolor grounds. Ollie’s frantic voice drifted through the morning chill. I couldn’t see his face, but the sound of his voice caused what was left of my soul to rip into fragments, small enough to be carried away by the wind.

  “She’s losing too much blood,” one of them said. Big brown eyes peered down at me. “You have to stay with us, darling. You have to stay awake.”

  “Ethan, go with her,” another male’s voice stated as Ethan’s face expressed nothing to my left, his hand gripping mine tightly, showing more than his eyes could say.

  “Get off me!” Ollie screamed. “Mia!”

  The doors to the ambulance closed. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat was thick, and my brain cloudy.

  Ethan pulled my hand over his lap as he took a seat, eyes locked on mine, jaw tensing.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Let’s runaway with freedom in our eyes,

  to a place measured in rapture,

  and clocks a sign of the times.

  We could chase the moon, outrun the sun.

  No cages to keep us hostage, only bound by love.

  Let’s catch fire and dance in the wind.

  Forget this fucking place,

  let’s just …

  r u n a w a y ...”

  —Oliver Masters

  ollie.

  MY HEART HIT ROCK BOTTOM, and my chest caved. A shattered cry ripped through my throat as I fought against the two who held me back from her.

  Jerry and Jinx finally released me as the ambulance rolled away, and I charged toward Lynch whose stance faced the descending bus with Mia inside.

  “Lynch!” I shoved him from behind with both hands. “You have to let me go!” Lynch stumbled forward but refused to turn around and face me. Seconds later, Jerry and Jinx’s hands wrapped around my biceps to keep me back. “Look at me, you sorry fuck!”

  Lynch turned around slowly, his face pale and eyes reeked of guilt.

  We stared at one another.

  My vision clouded and my chest heaved. A scorching ache lived inside my chest, making it difficult to breathe. “You have to let me go to her,” I pleaded, and snatched my arms from the two blokes. Taking a step forward, a blast of November morning wind swirled around us, and I should be cold—no shirt, no shoes—only the joggers with Mia’s blood soaked through and smeared over my skin. “Please,” I begged. “She’s my fiancé.”

  My blood-covered hands shook at my sides as I stood there waiting. Every second felt like an eternity in these tears. If I had to wait any longer for a response, I was scared of what I could be capable of doing to him, to all of them, to get to her. Demented thoughts tangled its dirty web inside me, wanting to break me.

  But Lynch was afraid to speak. He was too afraid to do anything, hadn’t bloody moved at all. Paralyzed. “You care about her,” I managed to get out. “You fucking care about her!”

  Lynch’s wide brown eyes locked on mine, and all I saw in them was Mia.

  Suddenly, it hit me.

  All at once, everything became clear, and I shook my head. “No, that can’t be right … ” I mumbled to myself, pushing my fingers through my hair and down my face. I had to be losing it.

  “Not another word,” Lynch said through gritted teeth. “Go get dressed. Five minutes. You’re coming with me.”

  I turned to Jerry. He was about the same build, only a few inches taller. “Give me your shirt and shoes.”

  Jerry laughed and took a step back. “Bugger off.”

  “Here,” Jinx said as he worked on the buttons of his uniform. “I’m a big guy, but I don’t think you care.” His uniform dropped to the ground, and he peeled off his under shirt and tossed it over to me. Next went his shoes.

  “Thanks, mate. You’re a good man, I owe you one,” I slid the second one on, “You can grab mine from my dorm.” I turned to Lynch. “Let’s go.”

  Lynch never cuffed me, and the ride to the hospital was tormenting. Visions of Mia lying on the floor covered in glass and blood filtered through my mind on non-stop replay.

  She hadn’t left longer than ten minutes before a sickness crept inside me, and I’d known something wasn’t right. Oxygen had been sucked from the space around me, and walking to the community bathroom turned into a struggle in itself. All my senses had known the worst, but my heart hung on to the glimmer of hope as I’d pushed that door open.

  And there she had been, my little explosion of hope.

  It was as if a part of me left my body, running to her as the rest of me, the weak part, stood fucking frozen and unable to comprehend the scene laid out before me. My soul cried out, and my spirit died a thousand deaths in a matter of four seconds before my feet registered, treading through the glass, caring about one bloody thing—to get to her.

  Still, I couldn’t feel the glass in my feet.

  The only thing I felt was the ache in my chest.

  I looked out before me in a daze as the city passed us by. Closing my eyes became impossible when it was all I wanted to do. The fog of fear trapped me.

  “Oliver?” Lynch’s tone came out harsh and loud, pulling me out of the daze. I didn’t bother meeting his gaze as he whipped through winding roads to the hospital. “How did you know?”

  It didn’t matter.

  Lynch exhaled and rubbed his palm over his balding head before returning it over the wheel, and his thumb tapped to whatever mantra repeated in his head. “She can’t know. You can’t tell her,” he continued.

  I remained silent for a moment, neither confirming or denying I’d keep his secret. I’d do whatever was best for Mia.

  “Your eyes,” my voice came out low and quiet, “She has your eyes.”

  My lips sucked in, and I was finally able to close my own eyes.

  Mia had to be okay. She had to be okay.

  “We’re here,” Lynch stated and the car whipped into a space in the car park. Before the gear moved to park, I was already out and running toward the entrance. Nothing moved fast enough. Even the air and blood pumping through me couldn’t keep up with my racing thoughts and stride.

  “Mia Rose Jett,” my bloody hands trembled over the desk as the receptionist looked up in horror. “What room?”

  “Sir, you need to si—

  My fist slammed against the desk. “What room?”

  People walked all around me. The energy from the crowd ricocheted off me, not able to touch me. Nothing could touch me.

  “Are you family?” she asked with a raise of her testing brow.

  The sudden hand on my shoulder was Lynch’s as he took over the conversation. “Jett is a patient of mine. I need an update on her status.”

  My jaw tensed, and I shrugged his arm off me and broke out into a run through the double swinging doors. My eyes hit every inch of the place as I walked in circles, gripping my hair and my eyes burning from trying to keep it together for Mia. She had to be okay.

  “Mia Jett?” I asked as a nurse passed by with her head down, and I stepped out in front of her. “Please, what room?”

  Her attention landed on me. Her gaze roamed over
me, studying me and judging me, then turned to her clipboard in her hands. “Umm … Jett? Uh … Mia, Mia, Mia … Ah there,” she looked back at me. She’s in the OR. You can wait with the officer in the waiting area until she’s released.”

  Her tiny pale finger pointed behind me, and I turned my head back to see Scott behind a glass wall in a closed-off room down the hall, pacing in circles.

  I looked back in front of me, and the girl disappeared.

  “Bloody hell,” Scott’s words rushed out as soon as I made my way inside the far too tiny room, not nearly big enough to hold the tension and worry spilling out from the both of us. “How the fuck did you get here?”

  Ignoring him, I took a seat and pushed my elbows into my knees to control the bouncing, rubbing my palms up and down my face. “How was she? In the ambulance? Have you heard anything?” I asked, lifting my head to meet his eyes just as Lynch walked through.

  Everyone’s gaze made the journey around the room before falling back on me. I jumped to my feet and gripped the ends of my hair to avoid finding their way to flesh, drywall, or glass. “How the fuck is she?”

  Scott looked to Lynch again. “She passed out in the bus, lost too much blood,” Scott shook his head with a tremor in his voice, “It’s not looking good.”

  “She’ll make it.” She had to.

  “And how are you so sure of everything? Mr. Glass-Half-Full, everything honky-dory,” tears pricked his eyes, “And why is he here?” Scott turned to Lynch. “Why the fuck did you bring him? You will risk everythin—

  “He knows,” Lynch interrupted.

  It turned quiet after that.

  I couldn’t sit still. The smell of the emergency department did nothing to ease the sickness eating away inside as I wordlessly prayed to any god who would listen to take care of my love. Every doctor, nurse, and worker who walked by, I’d asked the same bloody question, and the only answer I’d received was the same, “Her doctor will come to talk to the family as soon as they can.”

  Milliseconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. I’d walked over every inch of the small room, sat in every chair, touched every surface of the glass wall. I’d prayed, cursed, and replayed that moment in my head over and over, condemning myself for letting her out of my sight.