Page 38 of The Casualty of Us (Philosophies of the Heart Duet #1)

“And I started to get so angry,” I choke out.

“Right there,” Pushing my hand down where I still have it tangled up in his shirt, I drop my gaze down to the spot.

“I could feel it just sitting there, growing as the seconds ticked by, and it just…didn’t end.

Not the fear or the panic or the circles in my own head.

” My next gasp has a hiccup escaping with it, and I lift my eyes back up to his hazel ones.

“So when it started to take over everything else, I let it.” I give him the truth now in a way I haven’t for anyone else.

“I needed it. Let it turn into…something, maybe rage, but it was all I felt by the end.” His thumb brushes down my cheek, and it all starts to spill out brokenly, “I needed them to hurt. To hurt as badly as they had hurt me. To lash out. I wanted it. I would have done anything—given anything for—” I catch another hiccup before it turns into a sob, quickly swallowing it down to get out, “And then I had to let that go—I had to find a way to let it go, Hayes.” My bottom lip gives a tremble, and I finish quickly.

“I knew it the second I saw Ollie again.”

“The pangolin,” he guesses softly and correctly—because that’s the moment my brain latched onto it.

“The pangolin,” I echo, voice cracking over the creature’s word. “I had been watching some stupid documentary about them before Ollie asked me to go get ice cream that day, and…”

I trail off with silence filling the space between us, and my stomach gives another flip because the truth is…I understand him better than I’ve wanted to admit.

Even to myself.

Ever since the lunch table that day. It’s why I’ve been speaking to him at all.

“You said you don’t even know how to be a person, remember?

” I wait until he nods before admitting quietly.

“I don’t think I’d like the person I would be if it weren’t for Ollie.

” His thumb stills on my cheek, and I try to make my lips lift despite the heaviness hanging in the air.

“I wouldn’t…Ollie reminds me of the good in the world. ”

That it deserves to be saved.

“Reminds me that despite all evidence from humanity to the contrary, people are also capable of incredible good.”

“That the pangolin survived,” he supplies quietly. “Not its predator.”

Working it out perfectly.

“And it didn’t even have to burn the world down to outlast them.” I snort, remembering something. “They don’t even have vocal cords, actually.”

His eyes hold mine, chest rising with a slow breath that has him tensing. “And then I happened.” He exhales suddenly, voice dropping low with the next guess. “You must hate me.”

I pause at the assumption, staring at him and taking stock of everything that’s happened since we came back from Christmas.

Already knowing the answer by the flip of my stomach but wanting to be sure before finally whispering back, “I don’t, actually.

” But the twist in my chest that comes with the truth reminds me.

“The whole thing just put me right back there, though, and…” I drop my gaze down to where my hand is, a scowl immediately forming at how my pulse seems to be thumping in time with his now.

“I don’t know how to let it go.” I blink back up at him. “I’ve tried, but it’s just there .”

“Right.” He clears his throat. “Gotcha.” The word leaves him on a harsh breath that I swear holds some laughter, but he quickly adds to it. “So just a thought, but maybe that means you’re not supposed to.”

A scoff escapes me before I can help it because—

“You’re saying I’m supposed to stay pissed at you?”

“I’m saying…” He gives another full-body sigh, and this time I’m present enough that mine definitely notices. “Maybe you can’t let it go because that would mean letting go of me too.” My lips part, breath hitching, and his thumb drops down just a bit. “And maybe…you’re not supposed to do that.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

I try to frown. “Convenient.”

“Maybe.” He murmurs, brushing his thumb across my skin again before bringing reality crashing down on me. “So you want to tell me what happened now?”

No.

The pretty much constant fluttering of my stomach around him turns into a sudden plunge, body locking up instantly and mind flying right back to that horrible room.

“I think he…” I trail off, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to see it again even if it’s the last thing I want to do. “I think he took pictures of me.”

Because it’s important. I know it is.

His voice falls on my ears with a low rasp. “Who, Ophelia?”

“One of the kidnappers.”

“But…” His hand stills against my face. “That would make sense, right? Proof of life or whatever? They would have needed that.”

“Yes, but—" I trail back through all those moments that seem to run together into an infinity of misery. “It was really hard to stay awake by the end, but I couldn’t really sleep either, so I just kind of drifted at times and…” I try to work out whether it’s some part of my mind finally cracking or healing. “I think he came in again.”

His body leans into mine. “What do you mean, again?”

“ Ophelia, Ophelia… ” I mutter, hearing the barely there click with his voice this time.

“One of them freaked me out more than the others,” I press back against him while forcing myself to loop through the moment.

“Called me sweetheart sometimes.” He tenses, every muscle going tight against me.

“I think he came back in and took some more pictures.” I open my eyes back up to find the hazel waiting for me with something that almost looks like possession.

“I think…I might’ve forgotten.” My brows fall with the reconciliation, the next admission leaving me fighting to keep my voice even.

“Or thought I dreamed it or something, I–I’m not sure. ”

A couple of breaths seem to pass from his chest to mine before his thumb starts back up again. “It makes sense that it would take time for you to sort through that shit, O,” he whispers gently. “Not even you can force that brain of yours to make peace with something like that if it’s not ready to.”

I scowl. “But—”

“And it’s over, right?” He slides a leg on top of mine, lifting his thumb to run down the bridge of my nose. “Whatever happened or didn’t happen is two locked doors and a year in the past away.”

And he’s right, I know he’s right, but—

“I don’t know,” I mutter, voicing the hangup in my head. “Why would he take more pictures?”

It doesn’t make sense.

“Because he’s a sick fuck, and if you want to hang out in here while I go scour the world real quick, then I’d be happy to bring you his balls.”

I blink at his matter-of-fact statement, everything about it ridiculous enough to have me snorting. “That might take a bit.”

“It’d be time well spent.”

“I can’t believe you threatened to spank me.”

His thumb stops suddenly, hand dropping from my face only to wrap around my waist. “Figured you needed to be shocked.”

“Right,” I deadpan, trying to keep myself in check. “Because that’s what I need more—”

“Well, it worked.” He clears his throat, fingers starting to move in small circles on my waist and making me swallow down the rest. “Didn’t it?”

“Mmm.”

Not able to say anything beyond that.

Because in the dark with him here…I can slip. So easily.

Feel safe enough again for the first time since Christmas to do so with reality locked away out there.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Last night.”

“No.” His fingers press into my waist, tickling in warning. “When’s the last time you really slept, Ophelia? I’m talking a full eight hours.”

“Um…” I try to think back through the last week or so and come up empty. “I’m not sure.”

He pauses, hand on my side giving a twitch, before his voice drops with quiet accusation. “You haven’t been staying here.”

“Ollie’s been staying when I need him to.”

“Stop that.” His fingers pinch my side gently. “Stay here whenever you want.”

I roll my eyes. “Hayes—”

“Freckles,” he cuts me off. “Please.”

And the earnestness I can see pouring out from the hazel even in the dark has me sighing, “Fine.” The next words tumbling from my lips before I can chicken out and listen to the way my brain is screaming to pull back. “What happened that night?”

Because I just…need to know.

Need to know if what he told me in the library that day is true or if the gossip mill actually got something right for once. Need to know at least this part of our reality.

He stills for a beat before questioning quietly. “With Josey?”

“Yeah.” I whisper back. “Just the facts.”

Immediately holding my breath when he doesn’t hesitate to just lay it out there. “I made a stupid call and got myself into a bad situation. She kissed me and maybe a second or two passed then I pushed her away.”

I pause, neither one of us moving an inch before I breathe. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” His fingers press into my skin. “I swear to God, Ophelia.”

The silence hangs heavy in the dark space until I give him a simple, “Okay.”

Trusting his word but still not able to expose more of myself than that right now.

“Okay.” He sighs back, leg lifting a little higher on mine and pressing down like he’s getting all comfy right before he stops. “Uh.” He clears his throat. “Just let me know when you’re ready—”

“Not yet.” I close my eyes, knowing that the ground is going to shift the second the world breaks in again and that I haven’t even begun to process what just happened here. “Just…not yet.”

“Okay,” he whispers, arms squeezing around me. “Sleep, Freckles, I’ve got you.”

And I do just that, slipping into something truly dreamless that comes from finally feeling safe tucked away in the dark with him.

“What the fuck!”

Ollie’s voice has my eyes flying open as a crash sounds through the small space.

“Ol–Ollie,” Hayes chokes out, scrambling to sit up as my brother takes a step toward him with his face turning thunderous. “Ollie, wait—”

“Did you have her locked in—”

“Ollie, she was—”

I see Ollie’s fingers curl into a fist as Hayes stands up, and the trajectory they’re both on has me jerking my limbs into action. Springing up onto my feet with a burst of adrenaline and throwing myself between the two of them a split second before they crash together.

“No!” I gasp, hand landing on the doorjamb with a loud slap and my eyes finding a matching pair. “No,” I immediately fill my lungs to warn him, “He’s mine.”

Ollie’s mouth falls open, eyes filling with hurt, and I swallow down the guilt that springs up with it.

“He’s mine,” I repeat, frowning as the presence at my back goes still, drawing my attention to the way he’s almost touching me and making me clarify. “Mine to condemn. Mine to forgive.”

The hurt in Ollie’s eyes goes hard, blanketing his face, and I hate it, but—

“But he’s mine, Ollie,” I warn him softly. “Not another bruise.”

It’s the only solid thing I know coming out of there.

His jaw tics, eyes flicking behind me before quickly coming back. “What happened? Did you forgive him?”

“No, I—” I stop myself, questioning that very thing before settling on distracting all of us instead. “I had an episode. A bad one. Hayes helped.”

Everything about him softens in an instant. “What? What do you mean?” He moves closer to me with a hand immediately reaching for mine. “You haven’t had a bad one since…”

His face falls in thought, and I supply for him, “Summer,” clearing my throat as some of the awkwardness starts to set in. “Before we came here.”

“How did you get in?” Hayes’s voice at my back has me tensing with us standing in the light of day again. “I locked the doors.”

“Yeah, well.” Ollie’s gaze moves to him with a glare. “I was a little worried you had offed yourself when I knocked and there was no answer, so I jimmied it with a credit card.”

“I taught you that.” I scowl, my stomach flipping when a warm body presses into my back. “But I’m really hungry, so let’s go grab some food and I’ll fill you in.”

Ollie’s gaze narrows on Hayes behind me before coming back to mine with a blank stare. “What?”

“I’m hungry.” I roll my eyes with a squeeze of his hand, lying my ass off because right now, I need the two of them separated. “Can we please go get me some food?”

“Uh, sure.” He nods slowly, brows falling with confusion. “Do you want—”

“Perfect.” I let go of his hand, shoving his shoulder forcefully to help him turn around. “Let’s go.”

It’s not until he takes those first couple of steps away from us that I spin around and throw my arms around the neck of the person behind me, though.

Allowing myself one more deep breath before lifting up onto the very tips of my toes to whisper in his ear, “Don’t tell Ollie what I said, he’d freak out.

” I drop back down, seeing the questions spring to life in his eyes but only answering with a quick, “Please.” Barely giving myself the span of breath before rushing out.

“And I’m really happy you made it out of that car. ”

I try to trap that cedar scent somewhere inside me where it’s safe and dark with stars that are still fighting to shine before turning around.

Leaving him standing there with some questions that I know I don’t have the answers to yet.

Crafting a story for Ollie that doesn’t involve creepy picture-taking kidnappers and instead just run-of-the-mill ones.

Waiting until I’m safely tucked away behind the closed door of my own dorm later that night to search up the services I’m going to be retaining in the LA area.

Because I meant what I said. He’s mine.

Which means no more bruises of any kind.