Page 90 of Butterfly

Ollie was used to it, though. He’d been writing to Leo for over a year before he got a response, but Leo hadn’t promised, Teddy had.

It was part of their agreement.

Ollie would appeal if Teddy promised to write.

He glanced across his room to the bin by the door overflowing with scrunched-up letters. They’d been written in anger, born out of frustration. Ollie had to work it out of his system before being able to write in a reasonable manner. He didn’t want to demand or accuse, but most of all he didn’t want to ask Teddy the question on his mind, didn’t want it to go unanswered or worse, answered.

Was it all a lie?

Instead, Ollie kept up his ritual of writing to Teddy in a neutral tone, filling him in on his life after Hollybrook, asking for a visiting slip and signing each letter ‘Your Butterfly.’

Ollie buried his face in Captain’s chest andbreathed.

Captain snorted softly, hugging him back.

“How does freedom feel?” Sebastian asked.

Ollie realised he was waiting his turn to greet Captain and pulled sharply from his arms. Captain let him go and shook Sebastian’s hand.

“Good.” Captain smiled. “Really fucking good.”

Captain had been sentenced to five years and served almost three before being released.

“Beer?” Sebastian asked.

Ollie widened his eyes, frantically shaking his head at Sebastian. Offering an ex-alcoholic a drink was a bad idea.

Sebastian groaned. “Sorry.”

Captain held up his hands. “No need to apologise. A coffee would be great, though.”

“Coming up,” Sebastian said. “Ollie?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

Sebastian retreated from the living room, leaving Ollie and Captain alone. Rory was asleep upstairs, exhausted after several night shifts. Sebastian told them both not to disturb him with a look in his eyes that said there would be trouble if they did.

Painful trouble.

They might have been out of Hollybrook, but the top-dog aura of Sebastian remained.

Ollie gestured for Captain to take a seat first. Captain sank down onto one of the plush sofas with a sigh, closing his eyes for a few seconds. Ollie understood. There were no sofas inside prison, only spine-breaking plastic chairs, or their thin mattresses.

Sofas were a luxury, and Rory and Sebastian had picked the squishiest, softest sofas in existence. The living room had a huge TV with a sound system, a carpet that hugged bare feet, and a coffee table with a chessboard top. They had normal chess pieces and a fancier glass set they occasionally used. Ollie had sat with them, pretending to watch TV while secretly enthralled watching them play. They read each other, trying to outwit, trying to trick the other. Rory and Sebastian knew each other too well, though, like he had with Teddy.

Captain opened his eyes and let them settle on the footstool in front of him. He lifted his feet onto it, groaning as he lounged.

“I might never leave.”

Ollie smiled, perching on the sofa next to him. “Rory said you can stay in the spare room if you want to.”

“I’ve got a place sorted for now.”

Ollie tried not to let his disappointment show.

“How are you, Ollie?”

He nodded noncommittally. Physically, there was nothing wrong with him, and on the surface, it looked like he was getting on with his life, but inside he was hollow. He was minus a big piece of his heart.

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