But it wasn’t any other day.
It was the day of Zeke’s funeral.
The sound of tires against gravel hit the driveway before rolling through the iron gates and the murmurs dissolved instantly. I craned my neck to see a white van come to a complete stop behind us. When my eyes landed on Stanley stepping out of the van and sliding the back door, I jumped to my feet and looked up at Ollie who stood beside Lynch at the top of the stairs.
Ollie didn’t meet my gaze. His eyes fixed ahead.
I turned back, and a guy stepped out in a blue jumpsuit. The rattling of cuffs persuaded the whispers to start again around me.
“Holy hell … ”
“Oh-my-god”
“Who is that?”
“ … it’s Tommy.”
Tommy darted his eyes around before dropping his head to the ground when both feet hit the concrete. Loose brown curls piled high on his head but short around the sides. His face had intricate lines—strong jawline, sharp nose, and high cheekbones. All eyes watched as he took the last chair in the back row. Lynch cleared his throat, calling everyone’s attention to the front. “Oliver would like to say a few words. We will have a moment of silence, and then it’s back inside. Madilyn Wyser’s memorial service is being held in her home town, but we will hold a moment of silence for her over the green tomorrow.”
I looked back over my shoulder at Zeke’s brother, who lifted his head at the same time. Our eyes locked. He held my gaze, dark eyes staring at me through the courtyard. Flashbacks of all the times Zeke stared at me from across the table in the mess hall raced through my mind. The color of red outlined his penetrating stare, yet a calmness swept through us and over me. I offered a small smile, and Tommy narrowed his dark eyes. His expression froze for a beat before the muscles in his face relaxed. An ache pricked behind my eyes and the air caught in my chest.
“I’ve written many words in my lifetime, well over a million, I’m sure,” Ollie paused and gripped the podium at the front. His head dropped down, his knuckles turned white, and complete silence fell over everyone at the sound of his voice. “But what I’m about to say … it would never be enough. I could say some words, fill this silence with poetry, but the truth is, words could never describe the impact Zeke had on this earth, because with Zeke, you just feel it. Zeke was a friend, a fighter, a listener, a cheerleader,” his eyes hit Tommy in the back, “a brother.” Ollie exhaled and turned his eyes to the sky. “But most of all,” he dropped his head down and found me, “Zeke was a lover.
“Love … the light in his mornings and the motivation to keep him from succumbing to the darkest of days. Zeke believed in fairy tales, in sparks, and happily ever after’s, but he also believed in the honest, chaotic, and hardest kind of love. Zeke saw it before I had a chance to blink. And in times when I had nothing left to give and the thought of giving up was pulling at me from every direction, Zeke was there, curls bouncing, eyes focused, fingers restless, putting the bloody pieces back together.
“Zeke is love. He is a reminder that no matter how difficult it gets, no matter how often you’re tested or what obstacles are thrown, love is always worth fighting for,” Ollie sucked in a breath and ran a palm down his face, “and dying for.”
“Zeke should not be remembered in tears. Zeke would want us to remember him in smiles, in laughs, and in every joyous moment we find ourselves in, because it’s there, in those rare moments, when he is all around us.”
He lifted his hands and signed the rest, Love you, brother. Evermore.
I dropped my head back, and a single raindrop landed on my cheek, and I closed my eyes.
The clouds parted, and rain fell over us. No one moved. No one spoke. Ollie took a step back from the podium and faced the sky. Tears mixed with rain streamed down my face, and I fought the urge to blink. Ollie pushed his hair back and pressed his palms to his eyes. He’d just spoken words of holding it together when all his body wanted to do was fall apart.
I jumped to my feet and rushed toward him, clothes completely soaked and feet not moving nearly as fast as I’d liked. When I reached him, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my head into his chest.
Ollie held me tighter, his head fell into my neck and fisted the back of my sweatshirt.
We didn’t say anything. We only stood under the rain until Ollie’s breathing calmed and we shivered in the cold. When I removed my head from his chest and looked around, everyone else had already parted ways, Tommy included.
Ollie linked our hands together, and we walked back inside the doors of Dolor.
“That was beautiful,” I whispered to Ollie. Dry and warm, we faced each other in bed. He had been quiet the past couple of days, and I wondered if there was a part of him that blamed me for Zeke’s death as well. Not only had Ollie watched his best friend die, but he also killed Madilyn.
We’d hardly seen each other afterward. As soon as I’d left to get help, Ollie and I were separated and questioned in different rooms for almost an entire day. I had been released first and had waited for him all night last night. When he had finally entered the dorm at close to midnight, he’d stripped down and sunk in the bed beside me, silently holding on to me for dear life.
The funeral was the first time I’d heard him speak since Zeke’s death.
Ollie nodded. “No words will ever amount to what he’s given to me in return.”
“He looked up to you. He loved you so much, and would have given you the world.”
“That’s the thing, Mia. He gave me the fucking world, and I’m looking right at her. I couldn’t react quick enough. It could’ve so easily been you,” Ollie’s breathing shook, and he grabbed the side of my head and looked me in the eyes. “He did this for us. He did this so I wouldn’t spend my days drowning in tears and heartache. So, I refuse to cry. He deserves more than fucking tears. He deserves every smile I put on your face for the rest of my life. He deserves all the laughter, the stolen kisses, the lifetime of feels, the sleepless nights of conversations … He deserves for us to live.”
It turns out the real Brianna, a girl we had all known as Maddie, had switched lives with a girl who only used her love and loyalty as a pawn in a larger game. Everyone had been a pawn in her game that only resulted in death.
Because of Madilyn’s delusional disorder, she never got the help she needed. The real tragedy was … Zeke’s death could’ve been avoided. From the very beginning, Madilyn had been under the impression Ollie and she were in love. To this day, Ollie still swore up and down he’d never been intimate with her, but those days where he’d lost himself were a blur. Madilyn had been waiting on the sidelines ever since formulating her plan to get him back.
“We’re getting together for one last rendezvous in the woods as like a farewell … ” Tyler whispered after Dr. Conway took over a discussion in Ms. Chandlers classroom. A little over two weeks had passed since the funeral, but the chatter hadn’t dimmed. Tyler and Jude had another year here. Ollie, Jake, and I were leaving. I wondered how next year would go for her and Jude. They were unofficially official. Of course, Jake advised her of the curse of Dolor love, and to downplay the relationship, and keep the sweet moments to a minimum. “Jake and Liam said they’d go. You think Ollie would be down?”
“Yeah, he would.” Despite everything that had happened, Ollie was in good spirits. At any moment, I feared he’d crash, but Ollie did exactly what he said he was going to do. He smiled.
“I’m sure as hell going to miss you. I wish I could go back and change things … trust in the right people, ya know?” Tyler admitted.
“When you get out, come find me. I’ll be here. I’m only going back to the states to clear my name, and I’m flying right back. I’m staying in the UK.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I still can’t believe it either.”
Ms. Chandler walked around the classroom and co
llected textbooks off the corners of our desks, permitting us to leave once she’d passed by. Tyler and I stood together. “Ya moving in with Ollie? Where? It’s not like you guys have a place after you leave here, no?”
Too many questions too fast. I shoved my hands into the back pockets of my jeans and dropped my head, wishing I’d wore my hair down to hide the fact I had no idea what the future held. I supposed I’d have to look for a job. I never had a job before. Maybe I’d work as a waitress while Ollie worked on his poetry. We could get a small apartment somewhere. Did they have apartments here?
“They have a program after Dolor I hear. They get you set up in a place as a transition back into the real world. I mean,” Tyler shrugged as we stepped out into the hall, “you already qualify. A work program, too. They have a work program.” I kept quiet, feeling empty without having to carry my textbooks but my head heavy with new burdens I had no time to consider.
We’d made it a few feet away from the classroom, and Tyler paused at our usual spot to wait for Ollie. “I’ll figure it out,” I sighed and fidgeted with the hem of Ollie’s shirt I wore. “I always figure it out.”
“What’s up with that anyway?” Tyler asked. She fell back against the wall and looked down at the word printed across my chest. “Poetic,” she said slowly. “What does it even mean?”
“It’s Ollie’s,” I pulled the loose shirt away from my chest and looked down. “I’m starting to think he’s obsessed with this brand. Or word. Can’t be sure. He does write poetry, you know.”
“He’s a poetic?”
I arched a brow. “You mean a poet?”
“Bollocks. Okay, so he’s a poet who writes poetry, and I’m guessing poetic is the, what? Adjective to this whole clusterfuck?”
I laughed. “Something like that.”
“I don’t get it,” Tyler shook her head.
The presence behind me was unmistakable, and like a magnetic force field, Ollie and I leaned into one another. His warmth surrounded me. His minted breath hit the tip of my ear.
“Tyler,” Ollie greeted.
“Oliver,” she nodded.
“You see what just happened?” he asked her.
Tyler lifted off the wall. “Huh?”
“I hadn’t touched her, yet she drifted to me as if her body recognized mine was near. We are on the same wavelength. Same rhythm. This,” Ollie danced a finger across the nape of my neck, “This is the meaning of poetic.”
“Oh,” Tyler sighed, blushing. “I bet he’s poetic in bed.” She wiggled her brows at me, and I dropped my head into my hand.
A giggle tickled my throat.
“Why are you laughing?” Ollie asked. He sat up with his bare back against the wall and notebook in his lap, tapping the end of his pencil over the paper.
“Oh, nothing.”
I returned to my paper in front of me at the desk and jotted another word. Another laugh threatened to come up, and I pinched my lips together to force it back down, but it was no use. A cackle escaped, and I leaned forward in my chair.
“What is it? What are you doing over there?” Ollie pried with a curious smile.
A happy tear fell. “Okay, don’t make fun,” I warned, pointing my pencil at him.
“You want to point wood at each other?” Ollie lifted a brow. “Mine’s bigger.”
My jaw dropped, and I threw my pencil at him, and Ollie’s eyes followed the pencil flying clear across the room, but nowhere near hitting him. “Ace move, but I’m over here.” Ollie smiled. “Tell me. Why are you laughing.”
“I wrote you a poem,” I said with a shrug.
“You wrote me a poem,” he repeated, amused.
“Yes, but it’s really bad.”
Ollie dropped his pencil and relaxed against the wall. “Let’s hear it.”
“No way.”
Ollie lowered his chin and gave me those daydream eyes of his. “Please. No one’s written me a poem before.”
“There’s a reason why no one but you should write a poem.”
“I won’t laugh. Promise.”
“Fine.” I pumped my fist against my chest and cleared my throat.
“Roses are black
The skies are clear.
I get wet when you are near.
You’re the crack to my butt
The whiskey to my drunk.
How did I snag such a handsome hunk?”
My eyes lifted off my paper, and I waited for his reaction.
Ollie sucked in his lips and nodded once.
I tilted my head. “Say something.”
“Mia,” he choked, then paused to control his lips. His dimples pierced his cheeks. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Wow, Ollie has no words.”
“Utterly gobsmacked,” he agreed with an upside-down smile, partial chuckles blowing through his pressed lips.
“What did you write?”
Ollie held up a finger. “I’m going to need a minute, love.” I watched him as he stretched his legs out, adjusted himself, and rested his head against the concrete wall. He looked down, and my eyes followed to the erection in his sweats. “Are you wet right now?” he asked with a tilt of his head and his brow in the air. A grin expanded across his lips. “Because even though that poem was terrible, I can’t shake how wet you get when I’m near.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.”
“Come here,” he nudged his head.
Standing, I moved the pad of paper from my lap to the desk and walked over to the mattress until my knees hit the edge. The only two items covering me were my white panties and the Poetic shirt. Ollie’s gaze touched over every inch of my skin, claiming me. My eyes drifted closed, and I waited for him to touch me, for his hands to make the same journey where his eyes had roamed.
I heard the mattress move before his breath hit my neck. “How about now?” he whispered, and my insides shuddered in response. “Mia?” he questioned, and the slight graze of his erection through his sweats skimmed across the inside of my thigh.
Ollie tilted my chin up, and his tongue swept along my bottom lip. “Mia has no words?” he mocked and pulled my lip between his teeth before dropping his hand from my chin. I leaned forward to kiss him, and Ollie pulled away. “No, love. It’s my turn.”
Though my eyes stayed closed, I heard the smile in his tone. He lifted the shirt over my head, and his warm breath fell over my nipple before his tongue circled over it. Then he blew cold air, and my head rolled back. He moved over to my other nipple, and an electric current ran through me, dropping to my core.
Ollie tucked the hair behind my ears and pressed his forehead to mine, hovering his perfect lips so close, I could taste the mint from his gum. His fingers skimmed down the length of my arms.
“The only way to cheat death is by creating a love that will last forever,” Ollie whispered. My lashes parted, and we locked eyes. “That’s what I wrote.”
Ollie’s eyes dropped to my mouth.
My pulse skipped.
He wet his lips.
I held my breath.
His fingers traced the edge of my panties.
Lower. Closer. “Breathe, Mia,” he whispered.
My chest let go.
He moved my panties to the side.
The foretaste controlled my senses.
And his finger skimmed through my center.
My need for him exploded, and my hand wandered, reaching for him.
Ollie snatched my hand in his free one and squeezed. “Look at me,” he demanded and pushed two fingers inside. A moan left me. Ollie let go of my hand and grabbed the back of my neck to keep me steady. He stroked his melodic fingers inside, and my sex tightened around them. “I can’t,” I rasped out, fighting to stand but weakening by every torturous second as he scraped his thumb against my clit, and my l
egs shook in response.
“I have you,” Ollie rolled his forehead over mine. “I’m not going to let you go.”
All it took was two more sensual thrusts of his fingers, and one more scrape of his thumb. My knees buckled, and Ollie scooped me up in one arm with his fingers never leaving their post. He kissed along my jawline, down my neck, and back up until his mouth covered mine. My sex clenched around his fingers, pulsating to the beat of my climax and Ollie refused to withdraw until I’d ultimately came undone and pieced back together.
After he pulled out of me, he slid his fingers between his lips with a smug grin.
“What about you?” I asked, cheeks still heated, and my breathing was begging to return to normal.
He fixed my panties and pulled me over the mattress. “Oh, you think that was for you?”
We made out like two crazed teens until our eyes grew heavy.
Ollie laid his head over my chest, and I dragged my fingers through his hair.
“Mia?”
“Yeah?”
He tilted his head up to look at me. “I’m the crack to your arse?”
I laughed. “Forget I ever said that.”
“I wish I could, love,” he laid back over my chest and wrapped his arm around me. “I really wish I could.”
Chapter Thirty
“We’re not out of the woods yet,
but let’s kiss in the leaves
while we’re here.”
—Oliver Masters
ollie.
“AND THEN THERE WERE three,” Jake exhaled as the three of us walked down the hill and toward the woods. I grabbed Mia’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “To be honest,” Jake continued, “I never thought it would be Crap-bag standing next to me at the end of the road.”
“Crap Bag?” I echoed, and Jake interrupted me with a shriek.
Even When I'm Gone (Stay With Me series Book 2) Page 33