In my world, both Ethan and Ollie seemed emotionally and physically affected by it.
I’d only seen Ethan in passing once since the beating, and it was all I needed to confirm Ollie had released wrath on his face. After the beating, they’d both shook hands and went their separate ways. Ethan’s healing cheekbone looked like a July sunset in Pennsylvania. His lip had a cut, and his eye was still swollen, even after a week. When I’d thought he’d be mad at me, he wasn’t.
I’d learned you didn’t have to be feared to be respected. No one feared Ollie, yet everyone respected him. “If people fear you, you will be ten feet tall amongst enemies. If people love you, you will be a hundred feet tall among loyal defenders,” Ollie had once said. People give you respect if you give them something in return—a choice, an answer, a lesson … And the day Ollie’s fist blasted into Ethan’s skull, Ollie had given everyone a lesson on what happens when you turn your back on the people with whom your loyalty lies.
A spanking had been what it was.
Ethan walked into the classroom, and his eyes hit mine before steering toward Ms. Chandler at the front of the class.
“Officer Scott, what a surprise,” she cooed, fucking Ethan with her mascara-clumped lashes and pursing her pink lips. It was no shock to anyone Ethan had the body of a god and the chiseled features of one of Picasso’s portraits. But only I knew what he felt like curled up in his arms in the middle of the night as he whispered the terrors away.
“Jett, let’s go,” Ethan called, ignoring the way Chandler made a fool of herself as she propped her elbow over the table and leaned forward to display the dip of her shirt. I smiled to myself as I collected my things and waved a hand at Tyler.
We walked one room over, and Ethan hurriedly closed the door and turned to me. His mask vanished and was back to the Ethan I’d known very well. “I need you,” he quietly said. “One night. I need one night. I’m not doing so well. I’m so sorry for leaving you alone. I should’ve never done that. But, please, Jett. Tell Masters you’re sleeping in your room tonight. Tell him whatever you need to, but I’m telling you, I fucking need you so bad right now. I’m going to bloody break. I can’t handle it,” Ethan continued to ramble.
“Okay,” I nodded and grabbed his hand. Ethan never admitted to needing me before. I’d always assumed he needed me, but it had been the first time I’d heard him say those words. Whatever had him so worked up, I needed to be there for him.
Ethan let out a breath. “What are you going to tell Masters?”
“The truth. You’re my family, and my family needs me right now. But I also need you to do something for me.”
“What?”
“I need to break into Lynch’s office.”
“What the fuck for?”
“Files. I need to look at the student files. Ollie can’t know.”
Ethan let out a disbelieving laugh. “Let me get this straight, you’ll be honest about lying next to me at night, but lie about breaking into Lynch’s office? Have you told him I’ve touched all over you? Does Masters understand you’re mine as much as his?”
“That’s the difference between you and Ollie. To Ollie, I’m no one’s property.”
Ethan scratched his cheek. “I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” a moment of silence drifted between the two of us, then Ethan’s rare smile slowly appeared, “So, we have a deal then?”
“This isn’t a deal. There are no deals between us. I need to know you’ll be there when I need you, and you know I’ll always help you,” I explained.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
And just like that, we were back to our old selves.
“See you tonight?” Ethan asked, his rare smile relaxed.
“Yeah,” I wrapped my arms around his waist, “I’ll see you tonight.”
He kissed my forehead before we exited, and like clockwork, Ollie waited outside the classroom, only this time, Maddie stood in front of him in a heated conversation. His eyes found mine, and he straightened his back when he noticed Ethan behind me.
“Come on, love,” Ollie muttered, swinging an arm over my shoulder.
Maddie threw her arms in the air, bothered in the way he was leaving things. “That’s it, ya?”
Absentmindedly, Ollie continued his stride with me at his side. “What was that about?” I asked him.
“A bloke we used to know, the summer before you arrived, hung himself in the Looney Bin. I hadn’t seen him since that summer, but Maddie grew close to him during her visit in psych. She was just trying to talk to me, saying he wouldn’t do something like that.” His words were too casual. When Ollie talked about death, he spoke using his heart. These words weren’t coming from the Ollie I knew.
“Ollie,” I paused, moving my hand over his chest, “You can talk to me about it … If something is bothering you.”
“The only thing that bothers me is the way people talk about suicide and how it affected them. Are we so self-centered, that even in death, we selfishly cry for our losses, not once taking a second to think how much torture and pain the soul went through before deciding to end their life? It’s sickening … the silent cry for help no one responds to when the person needed it most. There’s never an action, only a reaction on this bloody earth. The moment someone speaks up about their internal pain, they’re shoved onto meds, counseling, and hospitals,” Ollie tapped his head vigorously, “because we don’t fit into their box and we’re fucking weak and lazy, yeah? How about alone and misunderstood!”
He took in a deep breath and stretched out his fingers at his side. “Alone, and the world shunned them to their darkness. And the world cries selfishly at their wake because the victim decided to find peace when everyone else tossed them into quicksand during a sandstorm. The world stands over their grave, spitting words like selfish … and ‘what about their family and friends?’ and we’re back to square one, thinking about how the death of the victim affects us.”
“Are you saying it’s okay to take your own life?”
“No, Mia,” he calmed and pulled my hand to his chest. “I’m saying if we showed more compassion and understanding, threw away the molds, boxes, and social status, it would never have to lead to that in the first place.” His eyes locked on mine, and the wheels turned in his head. “Now tell me, what did Scott want?”
“Time. He’s going through something and needs me tonight.”
“Is there something I should know about?”
“Ethan has no one, Ollie … except for me. I don’t exactly know what has him so messed up right now, but he’s only acted like this whenever a suicide had gone down. I’m sure seeing the bodies and taking the reports is enough to break someone.” If anyone could understand, Ollie would.
Ollie nodded at my side, and we picked up in a walk. “Ace, Scott. A fucking guilt trip,” he mumbled to no one and turned to face me, “I’m not your bloody owner, love. You do as you wish. You want to spend the night with another man? Go ahead, I’m not angry about it. I trust you. Will I be waiting for your return? Abso-fucking-lutely. Will I get you off before you go? Hell. Yes. I refuse to allow you to run off with Scott needy and without my cum inside you.”