Page 122 of Butterfly

Ollie felt butterflies in his chest at the way Jarvis and Captain looked at each other.

It only lasted a few seconds, then Jarvis pulled back and took off his glasses to wipe his eyes.

Sirens pierced the air, and blue lights lit up the sky.

“Is Rory okay?” Ollie whispered.

“I don’t know,” Captain admitted. “But I think it’s about time we find out.”

20

WhenJarvisofferedtodrive Ollie to the hospital, the police stepped in to escort him instead. Ollie was led to a flashing police car and helped onto the back seat. It reminded him of the first time he’d ridden in one, after he’d calmly called them after stabbing his father to death.

They’d put cuffs on him that day, and although one of the officers darted a glance at his wrists, the other one shook his head.

Jarvis and Captain followed closely behind in what Ollie assumed was Jarvis’s car, and it became clear that the two officers who’d driven Ollie in weren’t going to leave his side. They tried to persuade Jarvis and Captain to wait outside the cubicle, but Captain point blank refused, telling them wherever Ollie went, he went too.

Ollie imagined it was the size of Captain that stopped them from protesting.

A doctor assessed his nose, tutting and murmuring until finally telling Ollie it was broken.

“Talk about stating the obvious,” Captain huffed.

Ollie frowned. “Is it that bad?”

“Haven’t you seen it?” the doctor asked, pulling on each drawer in the unit beside the bed until he found a mirror. He handed it over to Ollie, who recoiled at the sight of his face. His nose had doubled in size, purpling in the middle, and bruises were growing beneath his eyes. The doctor handed him an antiseptic wipe for the crusted blood on his chin and down his neck. It had stained Rory’s jacket, and he scrubbed the wipe over the ruined fabric, but it only seemed to make the problem worse.

“Don’t worry about that,” Jarvis said softly, taking the wipe.

“It’s Rory’s jacket.” Ollie swallowed. “Can you find out about him?”

He directed the question at the two officers, who shared a look.

The one with the permanent scowl answered. “We’ll look into the status of your friend in due course.”

He spoke in a tone that suggested he was absolutely not going to find out about Rory.

“He was in a fire,” Ollie blurted. “He’s a police officer too. Rory.”

The scowling officer didn’t react, but the other one’s eyebrows shot up his head. Before he could say anything, Jarvis did.

“I’ll go.” He squeezed Captain’s arm, gave Ollie a small smile, then left.

The doctor went back to examining Ollie. “It’s hard to tell if the break has affected the shape. We need to reassess when the swelling goes down. And if it needs correction, I’ll need to manipulate it back into position.”

“Manipulate? How?” Ollie asked.

The doctor held up both his thumbs and twitched them. “With these. Don’t worry, a general anaesthetic will be involved. Are you in any pain?”

Ollie frowned. “It just feels tight…achy.”

“I’ll strap you up, get you some paracetamol and some ice.”

The scowling officer cleared his throat as he took a step closer to the bed. His eyes darted to Ollie’s wrist again, making Captain bristle.

“Will he need to stay the night?” the officer asked.

The doctor’s brow furrowed. “No. But I will need space to fix him up without you breathing down mine or Ollie’s neck.”

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