Page 13 of Come to Head

Panic. Anxiety. Turmoil.

Confusion.

“Get the fuck away from her!” Oliver was sprinting now, ignoring the candles on the ground and the familiar rhythm he couldn’t quite place. The voice in his brain screaming something wasn’t right.

His attention focused on Isobel’s tear-stained face. On the man that held her, the man from the plane, from the reunion.

Was this the man who took her? Had Milo lied when he had said he’d found her?

Her eyes widened in surprise. He couldn’t hear her, but he could see as she mouthed his name in horror.

He didn’t understand. Nothing made sense.

Isobel stepped out of the man’s embrace as Oliver reached them.

Oliver didn’t pause; he raised his fist, pulled back, and swung it directly into her captor’s gut.

The man made a satisfying grunt of pain, bending over, before Oliver was restrained, his arms pulled uncomfortably behind him by firm hands. The cool metal of a gun was pressed to his temple.

“What are you doing?” Isobel shrilled. “Let him go!”

“Boss?”

The captor stood back up to his full height, brushing off his clothes and turning the severe intensity of his gaze to Oliver. “We need to talk,” he stated brusquely before reaching out and tugging Isobel back to him.

Rage percolated through Oliver’s veins as he took in the stranger who held his Isobel hostage.

This must be who took her. A fucking stalker.

“You sick freak!” Oliver yelled the words, spit flying from his mouth as his chest heaved in and out. He wasn’t in control, and his mind was unraveling. His good boy persona liquefying.

“You really don’t recognize me? I’m hurt.” The freak’s smile was all teeth as he tightened his grip on Isobel.

Oliver had a moment of shock to see she wasn’t fighting back before a new voice broke into the space.

“Ellie?”

Oliver turned to the voice, the pistol following his move.

Maddox was being pushed into the church, two goons at his back.

“Is this really necessary?” Isobel’s soft voice was static with concern. “Oliver, Maddox, I need to say this first. I haven’t made a choice, but I need you both to understand. And if at the end of it you want to leave me? You don’t want to deal with this? I understand, but just know that I do care about you both more than words can express.”

Her hand came up to cup Oliver’s face.

One of the candles reflected off of a ring on her finger.

“What have you done?” It took a moment to realize it wasn’t his own voice.

Maddox was no longer the docile prisoner as he fought back against the two captors. Swinging one into the other.

Without further delay, Oliver did the same. Reaching up to grab the gun from his temple and twisting it away.

He pivoted, delivering a bone-crushing kick to one of the men’s faces. It was the man who had been holding the gun and it bounced against the ground a few feet before sliding underneath a pew. Oliver only had an instant of satisfaction before the stranger that had his Isobel launched off the podium at him. A fist finding his cheek, the shock causing him to take several steps back.

After that it was a chaotic mess of fists, kicks, and yelling that Oliver couldn’t keep track of.

He was delivering as much violence as he could, allowing his anger and confusion to power him through.