I released a relieved breath. “I’m sorry. I could’ve sworn I heard footsteps.”
Ollie shrugged off the damp hoodie and slid the gun back under the mattress. He planted two hands over the bed to face me. “It’s bad out there. It could’ve been the rain, love. The Office re-runs?” he asked. “The electric is out, but I can hook-up the laptop and use the internet from the mobile.”
I nodded, and Ollie grinned before the two of us pulled the large fluffy duvet and a few pillows off the bed and dragged everything into the living room. With the laptop set up over the coffee table, Ollie pushed play, and we sank inside the blanket when Ollie dropped his head against the back of the couch and let out a laugh.
The show had barely started, and I glanced over at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Déjà vu.” Ollie lifted his head and his eyes landed on mine, his smile infectious. “Back in the states, your dad, Bruce, told me a time when it was just him, your mom, and you. It’s the weirdest coincidence …” he shook his head and pulled me closer until my head rested against his chest. “This moment with you, Mia. I’m the happiest man alive, and I don’t want you to fall asleep without knowing that.”
He never did tell me the story, and I’d made a mental note to ask him about it another day. We spent the rest of the stormy night tangled up in one another, slow hands roaming, and the pitter-patter of rain competing against the laptop and our light breaths and heavy moans.
THE SITUATION BETWEEN MIA, Leigh, and my mum was not lost on me. For two weeks, I’d waited until the right time presented itself to confront Leigh. She hadn’t been at the Links house the week before, but as soon as I walked into a party Dex held at the Links location, through the crowd of bodies and thick smoke, my eyes immediately found her. The vibrating beat of the song pumped through the speakers and blasted into my ears, and I walked closer to see Leigh’s skirt bunched at the hips, eyes glazed, and laying back across a bloke’s chest on the couch. Her breast was in one hand, the other between her legs. I cocked my head, and the junkie across from them had a blunt between his lips with eyes fixed on the show.
My mouth watered, tasting fury, and I grabbed Leigh by the hair and yanked her off his lap, dragging her between people and into the hallway. I shoved her forward, her cheek pressed against the wall. Leigh whined, pissed drunk, and hardly hanging on.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I screamed into her ear over the music, but she couldn’t form a complete sentence, mumbling incoherently. She slid down the wall, and I managed to scoop her into my arms and carry her into the bathroom. She was blacking out, and panic replaced the anger, charging every nerve. In a frenzy, I laid her in the tub and flipped on the shower, spraying cold water over her lifeless form.
She was out, and I dropped to my knees, patting her cheek. “Come on, Leigh,” I shouted, every movement desperate. I flipped Leigh on her side and shoved my finger down her throat until her body heaved. Leigh lurched forward as contents came up and shot from her lips while my fingers pushed her hair back, trying to hold myself together.
After nothing else came up, her eyes squeezed shut as she cried under the cold water. I fell back until my bum hit the floor and dropped my head over my free arm, the other refusing to let go of her. “Why do you always do this to yourself?” Exhaling, I lifted my head and swiped my palm down my face. “You can’t keep doing this. You need help.”
Leigh shivered under my hand, and I helped her to her feet and out of her soiled clothes. She stood naked in the tub, and I averted my eyes, turning the water from cold to warm. “You’ll need to wash the chunks from your hair. I’ll get you clean clothes from my car.”
Leigh’s teeth chattered. “Thank you, Oliver.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, locking the bathroom door behind me before closing it. Initially, I’d come here to confront Leigh and talk to Adrian, but never planned on a party and saving her again. I sent a quick text to Mia, letting her know it was going to be one of those nights before returning to the bathroom. I lightly knocked over the bathroom door when Leigh opened from the other side and peeked her head around to make sure it was me.
I held up some clothes between us. “Here, get dressed. I’m taking you home.”
After receiving a disappointing text from Ollie, I made myself a cup of coffee before climbing the stairs to my darkroom, bypassing Ollie’s stacks and stacks of books piling over the wooden steps on the way. On top of my client list building due to word of mouth, a huge job opportunity had come in to capture images of a local model to advertise a jewelry brand. Officially, it was a step into the big leagues with my photos inside magazines. Thousands of people would see my art, and I couldn’t be more nervous.
I had a lot of favorite spots in the house, but the darkroom was, by far, my favorite. After begging Ollie to move the piano into my darkroom, and him refusing, he’d purchased me a tabletop keyboard and set it up under the window beside my laptop. Inspiration could come from anywhere, and whenever I needed a break from editing, designing, and developing, I’d roll my chair over to the keyboard, flip it on, and drown myself in the notes flowing through my fingers.
No one was allowed up here—no one aside from Ollie. Stepping into the room, negatives of my favorite photos scalloped from wall to wall, mostly of him. Ollie was my favorite muse. Here, I could admire parts of him when he was gone. His smile. The squint in his eyes. The angles and edges of his body. And all the sacred moments I’d caught him without him noticing. In here, I could crop, distort, change, filter …
… but never of Ollie.
The walls had been painted black, including a black-out curtain over the stained-glass window. Against one entire wall sat a work counter, processing sink, holding sink, and print washers. On the opposite side was the heavy-duty equipment I’d saved up for over these last few months.
After hours passing with hushed music playing in the dark from the laptop, and toying around with film, I’d fallen asleep over my desk and woke up to sounds coming from downstairs. Lifting my head, drool stuck to the side of my face, and I swiped my forearm across my cheek and mouth just when another sound clashed from below.
I slowly stood from the chair and tiptoed to the window, and Ollie’s car wasn’t outside in its usual spot. Heart pounding, I whipped and scanned the room for my phone. I’d left it downstairs.
It could very well be Ollie, but usually, he’d find me as soon as he walked through the door. He’d already be up here. He’d be the one to wake me.
It was someone else.
And the single thought drove all fear into existence.
Slowly, I walked across the hardwood floors until my shaky palm wrapped around the door handle. Afraid to make a sound, I held my breath as the door pulled open with a small painful creak.
I peeked my head out and gazed down the steps to where the kitchen was. A girl was leaned over the counter with my phone in her hand, the bright screen beaming over her face. But her back was to me, and though I couldn’t see her, I knew it was Leigh.
She’d broken into my home.
I’d left Dolor a long time ago, but apparently, Dolor never left me.
With my gaze pinned on her back, I went through every scenario of how this would go. It was just her and me here, but this was my house. Leaving the door cracked, I pulled back behind the wall and released a breath while planning out my next moves. Knowing she had relations with the Links could mean she had a gun, but so did I. Under my mattress.