Page 70 of Filtration Play
That told him everything.
They’d left him behind in their apartment, fucking bolted. And with the devastation that had crashed in on them yesterday combinedwith whatever new horrors Hera had pulled, he couldn’t guarantee they’d come back.
Not alive at least.
Fear surged through him like ice water, and his hand holding the phone trembled.
“Ollie, can you do me a favor?” Meg asked. Even though she sounded calm, the strain in her voice was clear.
“Anything you need.” The tension built up in him faster and faster, like centrifugal force. He’d been teetering on the edge, and this—this was one he wasn’t sure he’d come back from either. Yet all he could do was try.
“Stay there. The rest of us are going to look at their normal haunts, but if Fin decides to come home, I know you’re the one they’ll want to see most.”
Ollie didn’t have the heart to say they wouldn’t be at their usual haunts. Not after yesterday. Not after today. He was terrified to find out more about what Hera had done that had launched Fin right out the door. They’d been at their limit yesterday, and this would’ve shattered them.
“I’ll stay put.” Shit, what had he signed himself up for? He was stuck here in the house. Trapped while his heart and soul screamed.
“Stay strong, Ollie. We’ll track them down.” With that, Meg hung up.
Ollie stared at his phone for a second, then strode into the kitchen. He pressed the button to call Fin and paced. The phone rang once and then went to voice mail, which meant they probably had it turned off.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He crashed to his knees and let out a howl. The sound reverberated around their empty apartment, but Fin didn’t appear. The place held a hollow echo without their lively presence in it, and he had no way tocontact them. Hell, Meg wasn’t even aware of what had happened to Fin yesterday. The only person they’d let in was him.
And then had left him behind.
Part of him had always known they’d run when things got hard. Maybe that was what had drawn them together in the first place. They were two broken souls, both chasing escape wherever they could find it. For Fin, it was living life fast, loud, and on edge. For Ollie, it had been the shock of pain every time he cut.
And the urge grew so deafening he could barely focus on anything else. It was no longer an itch beneath his skin like it had been for a month. No, now it morphed into a howling storm brewing inside him, begging to be sliced free.
Every ugly thing that broiled inside him emerged, bubbling to the surface.
Of course Fin hadn’t stayed for him. He wasn’t able to help anyone. Useless. Forgettable.
He was a pit stop in everyone else’s life but never a destination.
His nails pricked his palms from his balled hands, but the slight shock of pain wasn’t enough. It couldn’t quell the howling force that built inside him.
What the fuck sort of disaster was he? He had a good family, a good job. Somewhere to fall back on. And yet he was reduced to this pitiful mess. Fucking weak. He hadn’t even been through the horrors Fin had, but he was the one falling apart.
Fuck, he was so tired of being like this.
Tears burned in his eyes as he pushed to a stand. The kitchen drawer was right there.
Ollie walked in as if his legs were magnetically compelled. When he opened the drawer, the glint of the knives ensnared him.
A quick slice.
Relief.
That was all he needed to do.
His breaths came out shaky and shattered, the force building inside him with such immensity he wasn’t sure how he’d survive. Just the sort that quaked the foundation, that made the walls tremble.
And his walls were completely down.
He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t.
