Page 21 of The Retreat

“Because I’m in the middle of our eighteen hour flight home. I will be there soon, I promise.” Oliver’s voice is soothing.

“Soon is not enough.” I press my eyes closed, the walls closing in, my lungs unable to feel with air. “Where are my meds?”

My hands shake, and the tablet crashes to the floor, skittering out of reach. I can’t will my body to find it. I’m barely alive. Why am I doing this? Why did I think this was a good idea? How did I not know my parents would do this?

Everyone will see through me if I show up like this.

“Owen?” a voice calls softly.

I can’t reply even if I want to.

I pull deeper into myself as the blackness creeps closer.

NINE

Colin

My phone rings, and surprisingly, it’s Oliver.

“Ye–”

“In the office, second drawer on the left, code is five nine zero two seven.”

“What?”

“That’s where Owen’s pills are. Go. Do not under any circumstances let him have the bottle. One pill only.” Oliver’s voice is strained in a way I’ve never heard it before.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You have to take care of him until I get there. How oblivious are you? Go. Now.” The call ends, and I’m left staring at it for a moment. What the actual fuck is happening?

I force myself off the floor and down the hallway to the office, opening drawers in the desk until I find one with a lockbox and a keypad.

Quickly, I type in the numbers Oliver told me, and inside is a prescription with Owen’s name on it, among other things I’ll dig through later. I quickly scan the warnings on the side. No alcohol, don’t drive, may make you tired.

With the bottle in hand and a glass of water, I head to the bedroom. He’s not okay. I don’t know how I missed the signs while living in his house, but he’s so far from okay, it’s terrifying.

“Owen?”

I can hear the ragged breathing in the dark and slowly make my way toward it, shoving the bottle in my pocket so I have a free hand to catch myself if I trip.

I find Owen crumbled on the floor in a ball, scratching and pulling at himself.

“Owen,” I say a little louder, in case he didn’t hear me. I don’t want to touch him and startle him, but I can’t walk away and leave him like this, either. No one deserves to suffer alone.

I brush my fingertips through his hair, a barely there touch, and to my surprise, he leans into it.

Crouching down, I don’t break the connection, moving my hand down his head and around to cup his cheek.

“Hey.” I smile softly in the dark, not sure he can even see it. My palm is wet with tears, and it breaks what small part of my heart is still able to give a shit. “I have your pills.”

“Where?!” The demand in his voice is surprising given the current state of him. Setting the water down, I get the bottle from my pocket. He snatches it from me with shaking hands and tries to get it open, but I wrestle it back from him.

“Hey! Oliver had these under a literal lock. I’m not risking him murdering me for real by giving you the entire bottle.”

Owen growls, and I hear his teeth grinding together. “Please.”

He’s starting to rock on the floor as I get the bottle open and give him a pill. Before I can hand him the glass, he’s swallowed it. Well, okay then.

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