Page 16 of Violent Things
“Why? Your boyfriend have you on curfew now?” Oliver says this jestingly, but there’s a bite to his voice.
“Of course not. I’m just being considerate.” And, of course, if Zeth wakes up and I’m not home in bed beside him, he’s going to assume I was kidnapped by some of his old friends and I’m in very grave danger. That would be a very bad turn of events. He would tear this city apart and then set it on fire looking for me.
Oliver just shrugs his shoulders. “Whatever. Let’s go.”
Up on the roof, memories hit me one after the other—all the times my father brought me up here with Alexis to watch the snow fall. I’ve been up here many times since, but every single time, this happens. My dad, Alexis and I, all holding hands, necks craning back, gentle snowflakes falling onto our faces, sticking to our eyelashes. There’s no snow falling tonight, though. It’s too warm. The skies are overcast, but the clouds are heavy with rain instead. Shame we can’t see the stars.
“Better get this show on the road, Romera,” Oliver laughs. “Looks like we might get drenched if we take too long.”
“So basically, you want to get drunk as fast as possible? Am I understanding you clearly? Just so we’re on the same page.”
Walking over to the very edge of the roof, Oliver sits himself down, legs dangling over the edge into the void. He removes one of the bottles from his bag and holds it out to me. “You know me so well.”
“Yeah, well, you’re a very smart man. Speaking of which, kudos to you for remembering to get twist-off caps this time.” The last time I drank wine with Olly, we ended up stealing a butter knife from the canteen and shoving the cork down into the bottle. Suffice it to say, we both ended up covered in red wine, and our glasses were mostly filled with fragments of cork.
“I learned my lesson, obviously.” Oliver takes out the other bottle of wine from his bag, and I realize the one he just handed to me is exactly that: mine. Neither of us have glasses, so we pop open the bottles, chink them together and drink straight from the bottle.
“We’re so classy,” I laugh.
“We’re under a lot of pressure. If it means that we have to drink like hobos in order to unwind, then so be it, right?”
“Right.”
I’ve nearly finished my bottle, feeling very sideways and most definitely drunk, when the sky opens up. The force of the raindrops as they hit the hospital roof is awe-inspiring. The sound of it roars in my ears as Oliver slumps to lie on his back, arms stretched out wide, his bottle of Malbec still gripped tightly in his right hand. “Wooohooo!” he hollers. “We’re alive, Dr. Romera. We are fuckingalive.” Grabbing hold of me, he pulls me down so that I’m lying beside him in the torrential downpour, his words resonating inside my head.
I am alive. I am alive. After everything that happened, I somehow made it through to the other side. Even more miraculously, so did Zeth. I have a lot to be grateful for. I’m thick with emotion and soaked to the bone when the rain stops. Tiredness seems to hit Oliver; one second he’s telling me about a procedure he perfected earlier when he was working on one of the school bus girls, and then the next he’s scrambling to his feet on unsteady legs, telling me he has to go home. Immediately.
“You gonna throw up, mister?”
“Hell, no! When have you ever seen Oliver Massey throw up from alcohol?”
Yeah, that’s actually true. I never have seen him sick from drinking too much. Never even seen him drunk at all, for that matter. He’s most certainly a little worse for wear now, though. The giveaway is that he’s referring to himself in the third person. I smile up at him, shivering. “Then why are you suddenly so desperate to leave? You gave me so much shit for never hanging out with you and then the next thing I know you’re bolting.”
He takes in a deep breath and blows it out quickly, scrubbing his hands through his wet hair. “I have to go because I’m about to try and kiss you. And your boyfriend knows people who can have me killed. Right?”
Oh. Oh,no.I can feel my smile turning sad. “Ah, yeah…. If you did that, Zeth wouldn’t be hiring someone else to kill you. I’m pretty sure he’d do it himself.”
“Great.”
“I’m not being a bitch, Ol. It’s just what would happen.”
“I know. I just…” Oliver scrunches up his face, closing his eyes. “Fuck it. Do youwantme to kiss you?” Before I can react, before I can shake my head and tell him no, Oliver saves me. “Oh shit. Don’t even answer that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I thought nothing would change. I thought I could ignore it. I thought hanging out would be the same. It’s not. I just...I gotta go.” He picks up his jacket and flings it over his shoulder. “You wanna come down with me now?”
I can tell he doesn’t want me to. I can tell he just wants to run away. “No, that’s okay. I’m just gonna sit here and—”Freeze to death? Shiver so violently that my teeth grind into dust? Anything but have to bid you an awkward farewell downstairs in the parking lot.I love Oliver to death, but it’s pretty clear to me that things can never be as they once were between us. There’s no going back. That makes me suddenly, overwhelmingly very sad.
“Okay, Romera. Well make sure you get home safe, okay? Make sure you catch a cab.”
“I will. Good night.” I tuck my chin into the crook of my arms, hugging myself as I wait for him to go. I’m ridiculously cold by the time I head back inside myself. My clothes make wet slapping sounds as I kick out of them and toss them on the locker room floor.
Chapter Seven
Sloane
My head is pounding when I crack my eyes open. Too bright. Too damn cold. The room pitches a little as I pull the covers up around my shoulders. “There she is,” a voice says softly beside me.Zeth. His hands find me underneath the blankets, moving firmly over my body as he takes hold of me and pulls me close to him.
“Jesus, girl, you’re burning up. You feeling okay?” he rumbles into my neck. A violent shiver rocks through me as his mouth moves languidly over my skin. The sensation is wonderful, but the shiver isn’t because I feel good. It’s because I’m feeling bad. Really,reallybad.
“Oh, god. Oh,no.”
