Page 55 of The Casualty of Us (Philosophies of the Heart Duet #1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I come to a stop outside my front door and swallow, nerves making that sick sense in my heart drop down to my stomach with a plunge.

Knowing that I’m about to step fully back into reality and everything that brings with it.

Totally unsure where things are about to land because my constants inside are all out of order now, and the one at my back isn’t going to be pleased when he finds out the secrets I’ve been keeping either.

That’s not even getting into the deed I need to complete before heading back to school…fuck.

That’s going to be harder with Hayes around now too.

Speaking of.

I turn back to find him standing at the bottom of our short stoop of stairs with both our bags in his hands.

A Doubtful Souls tee stretches across his chest, and he’s wearing some torn-up jeans that meet the boots on his feet with an odd look on his face that I can’t quite place, but it has me prompting, “You ready?”

“Yeah.” His eyes snap to mine. “Of course.” He jogs up the couple of steps and looks down at me. “Are you?”

Yeah…he definitely grew like that final inch.

“Meh.” I shrug, sweatshirt falling off my shoulder a bit with the move. “Ask me again in an hour.”

“Still don’t feel like giving me any kind of heads-up here?”

No. I’d prefer to lock you away in a foreign country behind about twenty armed guards with Ollie and a bottle of tequila until this is done, but—

“I’m good.”

“O.” My letter comes out with a half-amused sound before a little warning threads through his gaze. “You promised.”

“Didn’t promise what time, though,” I quip, reaching for the doorknob before he can demand the answers he’s about to get anyway.

My shoulders tense in anticipation as I push the door open and step into the entry of my home.

Waiting to see if it feels different than before as Hayes comes in behind me and drops the bags.

If that sense of being unable to breathe returns.

If the suffocation starts up again with all the pretty mahogany shining around me.

After a second of just…nothing, though, I exhale sharply. So caught up in the momentary fear that I would never be able to feel at home here again that I don’t even realize I’ve been holding my breath until I’m already inhaling the next one.

It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s—

“Hey.” Hayes’s hand goes to my hip, face filling with concern. “Do you need to get out of here?”

“No.” I shake my head quickly, slowing down my next breath. “No, I’m good. I was just wor—"

“Ophelia!”

My mother’s voice has my head snapping to where she’s coming out of the kitchen.

Relief and happiness clear on her face as she walks through the living room in a pretty cream-colored ensemble.

Right up until her eyes move to the person beside me and her brows lift.

Beating us to the punch as her gaze drops to where his hand is resting on my hip a second before he drops it.

Her grin widens, gaze coming back to mine as she continues unrepentantly, “And a very handsome friend.”

“Kill me now.”

She shoots me a chastising look as my father comes out of the kitchen, wearing his work suit and clocking the vibe just as quickly as she did but apparently being a little more dubious about it. At least if the hitch in his step when his eyes land on Hayes is any indication.

Perfect.

My mother comes to a stop in front of me with her hands lifting to cup my cheeks. “Happy birthday, darling.” She leans in, brushing her nose back and forth across mine a couple of times like she used to do when I was little. “You have been so missed.”

I lift my arms to give her a quick squeeze, breathing in her perfume and the sense of home I was so scared of never finding again before sighing. “Thanks, Mama.”

She pulls back to give me one more smile before turning to where Hayes is standing beside me. Her eyes run over his face with something flashing through them that completely throws me because whatever it is almost looks like recognition.

“Hayes,” she hums under her breath, voice clearly amused as she greets him. “So nice to finally meet you.”

My brows fall, and I flick my gaze up to him, catching the nervous swallow he gives before holding out a hand.

“Nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Fitzroy.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” She lifts a hand to his cheek with an affectionate pat, and the surprise on his face has my heart clenching. “But call me Blythe, or else we’re going to have problems, hmm?”

“Of course.” His dimples flash with a quick nod, and she steps back as my dad moves to take her place.

“Hayes.” He reaches out a hand, and Hayes immediately lifts his own to take it, the one with the tattoo on it, of course . “Nice to meet you.”

Both of them seem to stretch a taller for a split second before Hayes clears his throat. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Fitzroy.”

My dad holds his hand for another second before letting go and stepping back, staring him down with a guarded look that has me rolling my eyes.

“Hi, Daddy,” I toss out, breaking up the tension between them. “So nice to see you too.”

His eyes jerk to me and his face softens instantly. “Princess.” He goes to move like he wants to take a step forward before stopping himself. “Happy birthday.”

Probably worried about pissing me off again, but my stomach drops when his face continues to fall. “Where’s Ollie?”

“Upstairs.” My mom raises a hand. “Don’t worry, he’s fine.”

I frown hard. “What happened then?”

Because something happened. My mother hides it better, but my dad…it’s written all over him.

“Jack was on his way up to meet with Sutton at the school this morning when his car was hit from the side,” my dad delivers, face serious and voice measured in a way that he usually reserves for the courtroom. “He got knocked around pretty good, but he’s okay.”

“That could be random,” I argue back, trying to convince myself.

But it’s my birthday.

I should have thought of that.

“There was a note left on the windshield of his car.”

His gaze holds mine in the silence that follows, and for the first time I can see the absolute terror there. He’s worn down enough that it’s bleeding through now, and it has my stomach plunging further as Hayes interrupts tightly.

“Who’s Jack?”

“One of the bodyguards,” I mutter, eyes darting to where he’s looking between us tensely and making me clear my throat to correct. “One of my bodyguards.”

“Here.” My father produces his phone and stares at it with an unhappy look on his face.

“I know things have been…tense between us.” He looks up at me, expression on his face imploring me to understand as he holds it out.

“I’m sorry for letting my fear get away from me, and I will make sure you know everything from here on out, but you have to promise to stay away from this too. ”

I reach for the phone immediately, trying to take it from his hand, but he holds it firm.

“Deal?”

I scowl, lying easily this time. “Deal.”

I’m really racking them up these days.

He lets go of the phone a second later, and I lift it up, eyes immediately taking in the near-perfect scrawl that matches the last one I got to see.

I said it once, so don’t make me say it again.

My patience is wearing thin.

And right there below the words are a few carefully drawn flowers—petunias, I think, which would make sense. Petunias for anger. Petunias for resentment.

Petunias for desire.

He’s driving home the point that none of them will stand in his way…and that just means I need to move more quickly. I have to distract the monster with a new toy.

“Ophelia.” Hayes’s tense rasp has me glancing up at him through my lashes, seeing the same fear in my father’s eyes reflected there. “What is that?”

“He—” I start, then stop, swallowing to buy myself another second before reminding him. “You know how I told you I thought one of them took pictures of me?”

“Yeah.” His brows shoot down sharply. “Of course I do.”

“He did.” I clear my throat, hating the truth even while confessing it. “He’s been sending notes since the start of summer.”

“Notes?” he scoffs roughly, gaze darting to my parents before coming back to mine and holding there as his face starts to harden. “Notes about what?”

“About me, I guess.” I shrug, trying to make it sound maybe a hair better than it actually is before my father interrupts.

“He says he wants her back.”

Oh, that absolute piece of—

“He wants you back?” The low words come with a narrowing of his eyes, nostrils flaring and letting me know I’m definitely paying for this later. “Wait,” he bites out. “This has been going on all summer?”

I purse my lips, resisting the urge to take it all back, and breathe out the truth a second later. “Yeah.”

His eyes hold mine for another moment, shock and anger warring with each other before the latter wins out. “Excuse me.” He looks back at my parents with a grin that’s all dimples and honestly a little scary. “I’m going to let you two catch up with Ophelia while I go find Oliver real quick.”

Both my parents stare at him with surprise playing out on their faces as he starts to head for the stairs in the entry, my mother recovering first and calling out, “Do you know where his room is?”

“I’ll find it,” he tosses back.

I scowl at his retreating back before it disappears into the hallway on the second landing, not happy that he’s going to make me wait instead of just laying into me like I know he wants to do. I mean, I would.

I’d string him up six ways to Sunday for keeping something like this from me.

“Well, he’s…interesting.” My father tries, making me roll my eyes again because I’m aware he’s probably wondering where the guy he agreed to write a recommendation letter for went.

A few seconds later we all hear the sound of a couple of doors opening and then shutting. It gives me a rough idea of how close he is to where Ollie’s room sits directly across from mine, and when another door opens a second later before shutting harder than the others…I know he’s made it there.