Page 79 of The Casualty of Us (Philosophies of the Heart Duet #1)

Chapter Forty

No. That’s not right.

I scratch the word off my list from my spot on the floor, looking back at my computer screen and seeing nothing but nonsense like all the rest so far.

Thankfully, I’m almost done with the Vigenère portion of the day and very ready to move onto the Caesar.

The slight change after two hours of banging my head against the wall trying to figure out what the psychopath could have possibly decided to make the keyword is much needed.

Especially considering that I don’t even know if he did use a Vigenère.

The problem is there’s no obvious answer jumping out to me when it comes to the Caesar either.

All possible numbers of significance shared between us that I would know are already tried and discarded on the floor around me.

The past couple of days since Ollie went with my parents to New York on a quick business trip and I pleaded being sick have been spent on little else but trying to figure out the response I managed to snag the day before that.

Another bruise gained on my back from the fall out the window this time while Mia chatted away with Zoey.

I’ve been racking my brain ever since to figure out what he could have used to code the message because apparently I already have everything I need.

The dull and constant pound in my head at this point isn’t helping any, though.

I squint down at my computer where it’s resting in my lap, typing quickly and making my last attempt at the Vigenère.

Really not thinking the guy chose the Latin word for petunias as the key, but trying it out anyway.

I quickly see nothing but more nonsense pop up across the screen and shove the computer from my lap with a groan.

Immediately trying to for a deep breath to center myself as my eyes drift around the little collections of notes that have piled up throughout the past couple of days.

An occasional water bottle breaking things up and the lack of food remnants suddenly making my headache make a whole lot of sense.

Bodyguards long forgotten in the apartment above the garage with my bookshelf fully turned around until tomorrow afternoon when everyone comes back and my trip to wonderland ends as Christmas Eve begins.

At least somewhat, unless I get this figured out before then.

I blink a few times to fight the dryness in my eyes and look down at the source of my frustration where it sits laid out beside me.

Cardstock the same as all the others, but the prettily drawn blue pansies at the bottom are definitely a new addition.

Along with the nonsensical text in the middle and directions above that.

Don’t worry, sweetheart, I play fair.

You already have everything you need.

Oa pcog ku Cfco.

Unease fills me at the words I can actually read just like it has every other time and a burn starts up in my eyes again the longer I stare at it, but the text bothers me enough to hold me captive.

The familiar syntax that will allow him to slip more easily also making dread bloom around that knot in my chest because—

It’s how you talk to a girlfriend.

To someone who’s chosen you.

Replace sweetheart with baby, and it’s almost how Hayes talks to me.

I look to where my phone sits beside the note at the thought, and its prolonged silence has me reaching out to click the side and finding that it’s already nine p.m. The late time has my anxiety spiking with the realization that I haven’t heard from him since this morning, which is most definitely against the trend we’ve fallen into of checking in since going home for break.

Him usually reaching out to say good morning and me finishing off the day with a good night.

I’ve even been making sure to keep up with it these past couple of days while working on the note.

Not wanting to tell him before I have it figured out or add to his stress while he’s serving out his time at his mom’s house.

Plus I’m about to have to crush that dream for him, and my deadline is almost here anyway.

I pick the phone up and swipe up, quickly navigating to our thread to type out a quick check-in.

You there, Dimples?

I frown for a second before sending it, not wanting to be clingy but still not liking the disruption from our pattern.

Especially so close to what will always probably be a bit of a sore spot and while he’s with the wicked witch to boot.

Surprising him and me with her presence there already for Christmas and making me send some strongly worded emails as to why I wasn’t notified of her change in location.

Every conversation we’ve had has been tense on his end in a way that I can’t fix from a distance, and his feelings for her are still far more complex than I think even he realizes.

It has me hesitating when I know I should move, not wanting him to be hurt in the crossfire or mad at me for interfering. Scared of ever losing him.

It’s been a slow acknowledgment ever since Thanksgiving, really.

That at some point he got under my skin, and I don’t think I ever want him out. Need him there now, settled against me, just like I need to know Ollie’s okay and that I can outthink the piece of shit who still continues to view me as nothing more than an object.

A toy to play with. A desire to fulfill. An ego to satisfy. A means by which to obtain wealth. All driven by greed and clearly laid out in his psychology.

I let another minute pass with no answer to the message before saying fuck it and pressing the call button. Lifting the phone to my ear and—

My stomach drops hard when it immediately goes to voicemail, and I end the call with my heart picking up its pace in my chest, staring at it blankly while trying to figure out if going straight to the airport would be an overreaction or not.

I’m not sure. Some sliver of us is still left in the gray area I’ve been leaving us in.

Knowing he loves me and that we’re together but not returning it completely yet.

Trying to keep everyone safe.

Fuck.

I swallow, deciding that calling Ollie to see if he’s heard from him isn’t a bad idea, and I start to scroll to do just that when my screen lights up with an incoming call.

The sight of Talan’s name brings a scowl to my face as I debate for a second before answering and snapping out, “What? I’m kind of in the middle of something, so unless an axe just came through the front door—”

“Oh, so sorry to interrupt,” He mocks openly. “Just thought you might want to know I found something of yours down here.”

“What?” I mutter. “Can’t you just leave it by the door with another water bottle? I told you I’m working on a school thing.”

“ Fuck .” A faint second voice comes through the phone, and I freeze. “That fucking hur—”

“Don’t be a bitch about it,” Talan snaps before tossing back at me, “Your whatever the fuck he is just stumbled up and knocked—”

I’m already moving, though, dropping the phone and springing to my feet before launching myself toward the door.

Stopping just long enough to twist the lock before sprinting down the hall and stepping as quickly as I dare down the stairs.

I continue toward the sound of grumbles coming from the kitchen and finally come to a sliding stop in its entrance courtesy of the fuzzy socks I have on.

Grabbing at the corner of the wall to regain my balance, my eyes land on where Hayes is standing at the sink with Talan.

The hair on his head sends a shock through me at the all-black color again, and he’s dressed in fitted gray pants and a white sweater with some kind of black zip-up jacket over that.

His boots are only half laced up just like the first time we met, but what really has my breath catching is the clear bruising on the left side of his face and the cut on the brow above it.

Both looking fresh, and the cut gaping as Talan dabs at it with a cotton ball.

“What the hell happened to you?”

That knot of rage roars to life in my chest, and I quickly close the rest of the distance to them, eyes moving over every inch of him before smacking Talan’s hand out of the way.

Sliding in between them and lifting my own to run a finger lightly over the undamaged side of his face.

Fully taking in the injuries and surmising that whatever happened, someone got a good couple of hits in before bringing my gaze to his.

“Hey Freckles,” he rasps, a deep kind of hurt I can immediately see hiding in the hazel, making my brows fall further. “I made it through the door this year.”

“Very funny.” I frown up at him, glancing behind me as Talan steps back and meeting his eyes with a quiet. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He nods, gaze moving to Hayes again and staying there for a second before coming back to mine. “Mia and I are watching Christmas movies above the garage if you two want to join.”

“Maybe later.” I give him a small smile before jerking my head toward Hayes. “And by the way, he’s my boyfriend.”

Figuring just flat-out telling him that he’s mine and I’d prefer for him to save his life first in any given situation might come off as a bit extreme.

Some of it must make it across my face, though, because he frowns. “Yeah, I figured.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He gives a quick shake of his head, turning and heading out of the kitchen before calling out, “You could order me some pastries from Zoey’s if you really want to say thank you.”

I shake my head, looking back up at Hayes to find him staring down at me in surprise. “What?”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever called me your boyfriend.” His brows start to lower before he flinches just a bit, reminding me of myself a couple months ago and making me drop my hand as he clarifies. “Publicly. To someone else.”