Page 22 of The Mourning Throne
Ollie stood near the wall, one foot cocked back against the brick, dragging on the cigarette like he’d never stopped in the first place. His fingers didn’t tremble. His shoulders had relaxed, the earlier tension softened out of him by smoke and air and maybe unexpected company.
“Where are you two staying?” he asked, voice lighter now. Looser.
“The—the Armature..?” Lex glanced at Morgan.
But Morgan didn’t need to speak. Ollie was already grinning, eyes bright.
“The Armitage, right? I love that place!” It was the most excitement Lex had heard from him, the mostlife. “We rented out an entire floor for prom…so muchfun.”
“You grew up around here?”
Waving a hand, Ollie exhaled a cloud of smoke. “My parents come here for business, and I loved it so much that UCL was my only choice. I know I shouldn’t have limited myself, but being here just makes me happy.”
His voice had that quality again—thin and breathy, teetering between confession and self-soothing. High with conviction, then guilty as sin.I loved it.I shouldn’t have.I had to.I know better.
Like he was constantly having two conversations—one out loud, one in his own head.
Everything about Ollie was one extreme or the other. No gray area.
It screamedsheltered.
Lex could practically fucking hear it.
“Isn’t that darling?” Morgan murmured, smooth as velvet.
“I’m sure your parents are proud. Big city, university…”
Ollie took another long drag, the cigarette flaring in the dark. Then he tilted his head back against the brick, eyes skyward.
“Maybe.”
Lex turned to face him, shoulder pressing against the wall. “I feel that,” he said. “I moved out when I was eighteen. Couldn’t deal with not knowing if I was fucking up every other day.”
Ollie’s gaze drifted to him. “Do you still talk to your mom and dad?”
“Barely. Haven’t talked to my dad since I was twelve. Mom sends me a gift card on my birthday, and I send flowers on Mother’s Day. I’m pretty much no contact at this point.”
“That sounds nice.” Ollie brought the cigarette to his lips again—stopped, like he thought better of it—before he let it drop to his side. “I wish I could do that.”
“So, do it. You’re an adult.”
The little smile on Ollie’s face didn’t reach his eyes. “I should.”
He wouldn’t.
Lex hadn’t known Ollie for more than twenty minutes, but he already knew—like knowing a glass would shatter before it ever hit the floor. Some people didn’t have the resistance. No tension. No heat.
No fight.
Not confident. Not shy.
What was left after that?
Broken.
Was this how Morgan picked out all his victims?
“Do you always smoke that fast?” Morgan asked, nodding toward Ollie’s near-finished cigarette.
