Page 76 of Stabby Little

I inhale a breath. "Okay. I'll go to his house again. But if he doesn't answer the door, I'm leaving."

24

GRANT

Friday, June 5th

I’m pouringmyself a mug of coffee when the knock sounds on the door.

"One second."

After stirring in a tablespoon of fat-free cream, I walk down the hallway from the kitchen and enter the foyer. After sliding into my favorite pair of rabbit fur slippers, I place my hand on my doorknob and crack it open.

Lord only knows who's at my house this early. It's a weekday, so I assume it's one of Michael's goons. They show up when I least expect them to with orders from the boss.

After the shit that went down at the wedding, I'm half-expecting Michael himself to roll up with a loaded gun. I never should've put my hands on Khalid—it didn't matter that he was stealing. Anton was grateful for me, but Michael was livid when I discovered his secret operative was still alive. Michael said Anton and Zaire killed Khalid, but he wished they didn't.

I don't fucking doubt Michael was lying. Again. He already told me he'd murdered Khalid once for his sins, but that was a crock of shit. After the shit I discovered last week, I don't trust anything Michael says.

I tug the door all the way open. I've barely lifted my eyes when I see…him.

My jaw drops. Holy fuck. It's… Ollie?

In two seconds, seven years of separation vanish. Before me stands the same, sweet boy who played with my son, the boy who came over and drank the hot chocolate I prepared for him.

He's the boy who laughed too hard at sleepovers, who loved watchingScary Moviewith Miles when they thought I was asleep.

His wide, blue eyes are packed with innocence, and his pointy button nose is dotted with freckles. His cheeks are rosy and pink. The pale blue T-shirt he wears barely hangs on his skinny frame, drooping over his tight khakis.

I spot his wrists and all at once, a sense of déjà vu washes over me. Have I seen Ollie somewhere recently? I don't think so, and yet it's hard to deny the sense of familiarity that wells up within me at the sight of his limbs. He's so skinny, so underfed, he looks like he hasn't had a decent meal in years. Fuck—maybe he hasn't.

If my Yonkers warehouse hypothesis is correct, then Ollie needs solid nutritious food. ASAP.

Ollie steps to the side. The light shifts and an expression of exhaustion darts across his face. I don't know how I didn't spot it earlier, but it's unmistakable now.

It's the look of someone who's been struggling for a long, long time without anyone sticking up for them.

The expression one gets after seeing the demons that populate this world and fending them off with one's bare hands.

"Ollie?" Widening the door even more, I take a step forward. "Is it… really you?"

A look I can't place flashes across Ollie's face. "Hi, Grant. Yes, it's me."

"I wasn't expecting you." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. I've rehearsed this moment so many times during so many sleepless nights. I pictured meeting Ollie all over again, seeing him face-to-face, burying him in the Papa Bear hug I used to give him when he came over. I'm this close to sayingI thought you were deadbut that's not what I want to tell him. I never believed he was dead. I never gave up searching for him, never quit looking. Even though everyone told me I was nuts, I didn't stop. It's a moment of vindication for me that he's on my doorstep. "I thought you were gone."

Ollie stares at his feet. "I was in the neighborhood. I recently came out of a pretty rough situation and I thought I'd swing by. If you're busy, I can go. It's not a problem."

"How did you get here?"

"I biked." He points to a bright red bicycle sitting in my front yard. The kickstand digs into my grass, supporting the frame. It's similar to the one Miles used to use. "Like I said, I can leave if you'd like."

"No." I take a step back and usher Ollie inside. "Come in."

"Do you really want me to?" Ollie bites his lower lip. "I don't want to impose. I haven't even reached out to Miles yet, and it's probably weird that I'm swinging by without telling him first."

"Miles doesn't live here anymore." I speak these words as calmly as I can. "Neither does Linda. They haven't lived with me in four years."

Ollie rubs his palms on his khakis. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

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