“My brain is fried. I can’t think past five seconds ago.”
“Go to your room and get some sleep, Mia. Oscar can’t get into Dolor. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
For four days, I debated whether or not to waltz into Dean Lynch’s office. Each time I paced my room, I played out the entire conversation in my head—what I would say, and whether or not I should take no for an answer. Dean Lynch had Oscar’s confession. He didn’t need Ollie anymore. Ollie was innocent. Why wasn’t Ollie with me this very moment?
It was morning, and Lynch was always in a better mood in the morning. Not a good mood, but a better mood. My palms were sweaty and my knees went weak as I walked down the wide spiral staircase. It smelled different on the first floor in the morning. The smell was new, a beginning, a million opportunities hiding behind a glass wall, ready for someone to break it. The crisp scent was like a dare.
The handle on his office door was cold to the touch as I opened it after knocking. The smell of coffee instantly wrapped around my tongue and watered my taste buds. Lynch didn’t show any signs of how my unexpected presence affected him as he offered for me to sit.
“Why hasn’t Ollie been released yet when we both know now he didn’t do this?” I immediately asked as soon as I took the seat.
Lynch leaned back into his chair, and his face struggled to react to my question. He stared at me with sunken eyes. “Miss Jett, you can’t show up unannounced and demand answers.”
“I announced myself when I’d knocked on the door. What is keeping Ollie in solitary?”
Lynch looked down at his tailored suit and rolled his shoulders as he fixed his jacket. He probably thought this was going to be one of those days. He snapped his wrist and glanced at his watch. Yes, Lynch, it’s too early for this. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. Oliver had a … setback while in confinement. He will be released as soon as he is cooperative and agrees to go back on his treatment plan and take his prescribed medication.”
Were we talking about the same Ollie? Ollie wouldn’t risk a setback. “What did he do?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” His voice was clipped and direct. He was already over the conversation. He had other pressing matters to take care of. Ollie wasn’t one of those important matters, but Ollie was my important matter.
“Please, let me see him. I can get through to him. He’ll listen to me.” He had already said too much, and now I was overreaching at this point. The air around me changed. It grew thicker, and too much oxygen was being shoved down my throat.
Dean Lynch chuckled as if my request disrespected him in a way. Though he chuckled, it was only because my request was absurd and the tension suddenly ignited. “Absolutely not.”
“Dean Lynch, with all due respect, this is a reformatory institution meant to help people, not to destroy them even more. Now, you had him arrested when he did nothing wrong, shoved him into an isolated room for a week, and now he’s probably scared and lashing out because he feels no one is on his side.”
Lynch, his mother, his brother, and Isaac were all supposed to be on his side, and each one of them had failed him. Ollie had to know I wouldn’t fail him. I was on his side. He wasn’t alone.
“Excuse me, Miss Jett, but he is in no way innocent in this, and neither are you. He may not have raped or drugged anyone, but he has broken more rules than one.”
Lynch had a point. We’d broken the rules. “I understand. Really, I do. But if you could just let me see him, I can talk to him, convince him to take the meds, he can get out and go back to his normal routine. Please. Give me five minutes with him.”
Lynch stared at me for a long hard moment. I held my breath as he stood from his chair and walked toward the door. I closed my eyes, waiting for his words of dismissal. “Well, come on, then.”
We walked through the corridor and down a flight of stairs to the basement—another security checkpoint. I’d been down here once before. It was quiet and bitter. There were three rooms on each side of the hallway. From experience, I knew nothing was in those rooms. The walls were padded much like my room, and there was no window, bed, or furniture. The rooms were meant to break you into submission.
Ollie wasn’t created to be broken down—he was created to burn bright.
Lynch stopped before one of the doors. “Five minutes,” he stated without looking at me, then stepped back as a guard unlocked the door.
After the door opened, my heart immediately caved. Ollie sat on the floor in the corner with his long legs bent at the knees. His head hung over his folded arms, and I couldn’t see his face. When the door closed behind me, he lifted his head, and his whole face changed when he saw me. At first, it was a look of denial, as if his mind played tricks on him. The lump in his throat moved when he swallowed, and then he blew out a shaky breath.
“Ollie?”
His whole body reacted to my voice, and his shoulders shook. He clenched his eyes, and my heart broke for him all over again. Suddenly, he pinched the bridge of his nose as the tears fell.
I collapsed on my knees before him, gripping his legs. Ollie had reached utter ruin, and he was ashamed as he held his face in his hands and lowered his head into a silent cry. He was rendered powerless, stripped. Gutted. Ollie arrived at his rock bottom, and I had never wanted anything more than to switch places with him.
Ollie had never prepared me for these kinds of tears. The overwhelming ones when seeing the one you love carrying so much burdened pain.
“I’m right here,” I choked out through staggering tears. I was scared to touch him, but couldn’t bring myself not to. I gripped his hair, and he dropped his head into my neck.
“I’ve never had so much hate in my heart,” were his first words. He pulled back, and his eyes were clouded with mist, his long lashes soaked with tears. His chin trembled. “I’m so angry, and I’m going fucking mad. I want to kill him, Mia.” Ollie’s breath wavered as he tried to get it under control. “I don’t know what I’ve done. What is it about me others seem to hate so much. All I’ve done was try to do the right thing, make sure everyone was happy, and in return, I get this”—he threw his palms in the air—”shoved in a bloody corner and hated upon.” He turned his head away, not wanting me to see him like this. His cheeks puffed as an unstable breath blew from his lips. “And now I even hate myself for what he did to you.”
The words seemed so foreign from his lips.
“Look at me,” I pleaded, and Ollie shook his head. I grabbed his face to force him to see me. “I love you so much. Give me your hate, let me carry it all for you because I have enough love to crush your burdens. There is so much, and there is nothing anyone can do to diminish that. I’m right here, Ollie. You don’t have to be strong anymore. You only have to hold on, okay?”