Page 107 of The Catalyst

A loud sob falls from my lips as I cry, “Itried. I left! I was fucking careful so he wouldn’t find me. How was I supposed to know he would follow me? I kept my phone turned off most of the time. I left my mom’s car when I could’ve taken it. I did everything right, except going to that fight with Martin. I didn’t even know that’s where we were going until a few minutes before we got there.” I slowly shake my head to myself. “There’s no way Martin could’ve known he would do this. If he had any inkling that this would happen, he wouldn’t have left me there by myself.”

Oliver nods, his jaw set in a thin line. “No, he wouldn’t have. We’re at a loss here. We don’t know what to do about him. We can’t kill him. We’ve had zero confirmation of him breaking any rules in Grove Hill. I can’t exactly keep him on a leash, but Ronan is going to watch him closely.”

“And, what’s to stop him from coming for me when Ronan and Judy need some alone time or when Ronan goes to sleep? Nothing.”

He looks rather pissed off at the point I’ve made.

I shake my head. “It’s fine. No one can truly protect me from him. I just need to accept that as my reality. I have a crazy ex intent on holding me hostage like a goddamn trophy.” I should be used to this, but I got used to my freedom and now it’s being ripped away from me.

Gone are the fantasies of a nice and peaceful life with Martin in my childhood home. It’s not possible with Nigel waiting to snatch me.

Oliver takes a seat on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on my knee. His touch drags my gaze up to his, determination filling his normally emotionless eyes. “I swear to you, I’ll do everything in my power to protect you from him. If he raises a hand to you, hurts you in any way, you tell me and I’ll deal with him–consequences be damned.”

My eyes narrow. “Why do you even care? You made it clear you didn’t give a rat’s ass before.”

His fingers tighten on my leg as his eyes narrow. “I never said I didn’t care. You assumed I didn’t because you heard the tail end of a conversation you weren’t involved in. Asking for context and waiting for an answer before badgering and throwing accusations around would be a good place to start in the future.”

It didn’t feel like context was really needed. I heard the guys yelling about how Oliver could do this–i.e. screwing me–to Nigel and then when I got downstairs, I heard Oliver say I was just easy.

Fucking easy.

My face feels cold just from reliving that horrible moment. It wasn’t necessarily the worst moment of my life, but it’s in the top ten for sure.

I look at him, waiting for him to continue. If he wants to explain himself, he has the floor. It’s not like I have anything better to do. I’m confined to a room where Nigel can’t get to me without the others knowing and they swore they would keep him away from me.

I don’t trust that as much as I wish I did.

Having Oliver here is the only real deterrent for Nigel. After all, he pointed a gun at Nigel earlier for kidnapping me.

“Well? Let’s hear it. What could your explanation possibly be for saying I’m an easy slut?”

His eyes narrow. “I never called you a slut, except when you wanted me to.” That’s a deflection if I’ve ever heard one. “What I said wasShe makes things easy which none of you do. I don’t have to deal with being badgered for my motives. She makes things easy. She is easy.”

My heart lodges in my throat. What is the appropriate response to hearing that?

I’m not so sure I believe that was what he said considering he turned around as soon as I confronted him and told everyone that I’d had sex with Martin.

Maybe he did say that. Maybe he didn’t.

Maybe I’ve become so untrusting of people in this house that I don’t know what is real and what isn’t, but one thing I know is that Oliver is always there to protect me when he can. The scene earlier in the living room was evident enough of that.

“When I found you after what he did to you that night,” he starts, his grip loosening on my knee. “I told him that if he ever did it again, I’d put him down myself.” My eyes meet his, unsure of why he’s telling me this. “If I’m not above the rules, neither is he.”

“Why tell me that now?” I ask, confused.

“Because that’s your leverage against him. He won’t do anything to you that you don’t want him to do if he wants to keep breathing. If he touches you in any way you don’t like, all you have to do is tell me and he won’t be a problem any longer. The others are on the same page as me with this. However, I also told him if he ever made you cry again, I’d take you from him, so there’s that.”

Oliver already did that though. He did that while Nigel was off screwing whoever he was with. In that short amount of time, Oliver made me fall for him. He made a spot for himself in the beating muscle in my chest, carving his name against the tissue.

Martin did, too, and in a different way. The spot takes up the same amount of space as Oliver’s, but just as their personalities differ, so does the part of my soul that latched onto them.

The part that has Nigel’s name is a fraction of the space Martin or Oliver takes up. It’s like an ink bleed compared to the canvas that belongs to his best friend. The shitty part is that once someone’s name is there, it can’t be erased.

Shawn still has his spot marked.

However, I don’t tell him any of that. I keep my mouth closed. I have a lot to think about before Martin gets here. I have to figure out my next move.

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