Post by noir on Nov 24, 2024 7:50:30 GMT -8
The house was quiet, bathed in the soft, dim glow of a single lamp in the corner of the living room. Outside, the night was still, the kind of deep silence that came long after midnight, when even the world itself seemed to be holding its breath. The front door was slightly ajar, just as McKena had said it would be in her text.
Just come in. Whatever happens, happens.
McKena sat on the edge of the couch, her elbows resting on her knees, her fingers loosely interlocked. She was dressed simply—worn jeans, an oversized sweatshirt—though her posture and the sharp focus in her eyes betrayed her restless energy. A glass of water sat untouched on the coffee table, condensation forming on the surface as the hours dragged on.
The sound of footsteps finally broke the stillness, deliberate and measured as they approached the open door. McKena’s gaze shifted toward it, and there he was. Olly. His silhouette was cast in shadows as he stepped inside, his expression unreadable, his every movement calm and calculated. He looked the same as always—stoic, detached, like nothing in the world could touch him. Like he wasn’t walking into something heavy.
She didn’t move, didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she let her eyes linger on him, taking him in like she was trying to read past the wall he always kept up. The silence stretched between them, thick and electric, before she finally spoke.
“You’re here,” she said quietly, her voice steady but carrying a weight that made it impossible to ignore. “Took you long enough.”
Her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze never leaving his as she leaned back slightly. “You never were one for showing up on time, huh? I can’t count how many times I waited for you, and I eagerly did it too. It never bothered me. Shit, it still doesn’t.”
She shook her head as she exhaled slowly, standing up from the couch and facing him fully. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. About Jack, about anything you want to ask. Whatever it is you came here for.”
Her tone softened then, just slightly, though her eyes stayed locked on his, daring him to avoid her gaze. “But after that? You have to promise me something.”
She took a step closer, the tension in the room building with every word. “You have to talk to me. About us. About what happened. No more ignoring it. No more pretending like it didn’t matter.”
She tilted her head, studying his face for any flicker of reaction. “Deal?”
Olly held her gaze, his dark eyes peeking through the curtain of messy hair staring right into hers. Piercing, intense and yet somehow detached, just like that fatal night. “Deal.” His voice was almost a whisper, a cold one. He had always been hard to read, more so after losing Faith. If he had any feelings about McKena, about this situation and what it did to her, he was very good at hiding it.
But that was a big IF.
“Did you talk to him?” He asked. Straight to the point, as if everything she had said until this moment didn’t really matter to him. Visiting her wasn’t the reason why he came here, talking about that night was something he would have preferred to avoid. But Jack Graves, the man he believed was behind the dead rats and snake left respectively outside the Division and Syndicate mansion, was a master at getting off the grid, a skill he honed in years living as a renegade. Nobody would be able to find him unless he wanted to. McKena was the only one who could know where he was, the only one he would talk to.
McKena’s lips curled into a small smirk as she watched Olly’s stoic demeanor, not letting his piercing gaze bother her in the slightest. Mac crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged her shoulders in a nonchalant way.
“I did talk to Jack,” she said in a calm and measured voice. “And I told him what you told me. That you know it was him.” He words hung in the air for a slight moment before she leaned forward slightly, the smirk on her face deepening. “Or… was it Jack at all?”
McKena furrowed her brow as her tone grew softer, almost teasing in its tone. “Because here’s the thing Ol, I know if it was him or not.” She leaned back slightly, her eyes staying sharply locked in with Olly’s. “So now my question to you is, do you know for sure if it was him or not? Hm? Do you?”
The rum almost seemed to hum with tension in the air as McKena’s words lingered for a moment. The way she played her cards deliberately was almost in a way to break Olly’s carefully composed facade.
Olly never lost his composure, her words didn’t shake his confidence in the slightest. He gave her a nod, his voice calm and collected as he explained how he got to this conclusion. “Three rats in the Division, the three people who hurt you. Myself, Juliian and Ozzie. And a snake in Southie, the origin of all this. The person who attacked your cousin and forced you to drop your mask.” While he was not a man of faith (no pun intended), he was raised in a catholic orphanage and the myth of the snake in Eden, the origin of all sins and cause of the Fall was not lost on him.
“I know he’s out for blood, I expect him to come for me and Julian possibly. But that’s it, I’m not letting him come for the kids.” He never mentioned who the kids were, put it was easy to put names on them. Julian's younger brother, Ozzie Savell and Southie Syndicate's own Charli Rozzi. One of the first thing she remembered after the attack that night was Olly and Ozzie getting into a fight right before he left, which made her think that he wouldn't particularly care if the young Savell got caught in the wake of Jack's supposed revenge. Charli, on the other hand, she knew for a fact that Olly had somewhat of a soft spot for her.
McKena let out an amused laugh as she finally pushed herself up off of the couch she had been sitting on. She then slowly began to circle Olly with her hands casually clasped behind her back. Her gaze stayed on him the entire time as a sly smile crossed over her lips.
“Three rats in The Division, huh?” She mused, her tone light but was laced with something sharper. “And a snake in Southie? That theory is cute, Olly, it really is. Obviously you and the rest of The Division have put a lot of thought into this.” McKena stopped just behind Olly, leaning in slightly as her voice dropped to something that was almost conspiracy-like. “But here’s the thing… Jack? He’s not the one leaving littles presents behind. The rats, the snakes? He doesn’t have a damn clue who’s behind it. Sorry to disappoint.”
McKena stepped back into Olly’s line of sight, crossing her arms as she tilted her head at him. “But you’re right about one thing. He’s coming for you and Julian. That much, I can confirm. And honestly?” Her lips curved into a smirk. “I’d start watching your back if I were you.” She shrugged, her tone turning playful as she leaned back slightly against the armrest of the couch. “But hey, what do I know? I’m just the messenger, right?”
Even now, there was no visible change in his demeanor. He stood still as McKena circled around him, not even following her movements with his eyes. “Did he tell you that?” He spoke once she was in front of him, their glances once again locking. “Because he denied taking the young Grimes for months, even though everybody knew he had him. Taking a bullet for you doesn’t change the fact that he’s a liar, that he’s scum just like the rest of us.”
McKena’s gaze was serious as she stared into Olly’s eyes. “Jack might lie to people, Olly,” she said softly, her voice steady but quieter now. “But he never lies to me. Ever. You can trust that it’s true.” Mac’s arms dropped to her sides and the cheeky edge that she had displayed earlier started to fade. “If you want to fight Jack so badly before he gets you from behind like the boogey-man, name a time and a place, Olly. He will show. He told me to tell you that he promises that you’ll get your fight and then some.”
“You used to think the same about me too, remember?” He just couldn’t help himself, his lips curling into a sneer as he twisted the knife in the wound. “I’ll let you know then, so you can tell your knight in shining armor. Take care, Mac.” As he said those words, he turned around and headed to the door.
Mac didn’t even hesitate. As soon as Olly turned toward the door, which she fully expected, she was after him. Her steps were quick and urgent until she caught up to him and grabbed him from behind, her arms wrapping around his waist in a tight, desperate hug. She pressed her forehead against his back, her voice trembling but somehow firm. “Wait. Please, Olly, just wait…”
She held onto him, as if letting go would mean losing her last chance at closure, which was something she couldn’t bear. “You owe me this,” she said quickly, her grip tightening. “You owe me this one talk. My opinion of you hasn’t changed. Not then, not now. I know I lied to you, and I’m sorry… Goddamnit, I’m so fucking sorry. But please, Olly, just please talk to me.”
McKena’s voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t let go and she refused to waver. “You can say whatever you need to and I’ll accept it. Whatever the truth might be, I’ll take it. And after that? After we have a chance to hear each other out? I’ll leave you alone. I’ll never bother you again if that is what you truly want. Just… Please, give me this.” Her words hung in the air with a heavy emotion as McKena stood there, holding on tightly to Olly as she waited for something, anything, from him.
She could feel his muscles relaxing as he let out a long sigh. The tension she sensed when she stopped her, his whole body stiffening as her arms wrapped around her torso, it all went away in the blink of an eye. And with that, her fear that he would turn around and hit her again. The flashbacks of the night, the most painful of betrayals she could have ever imagined had haunted her dreams for weeks, She needed this closure, as painful as it might be.
“I cared about you.” Past tense, that sounded like a sentence. “I trusted you, you had been there when I was at my lowest, you convinced me that I should have kept going when all I wanted was to say fuck it all.” He never turned around, speaking those words as her face was pressed on his back. To her, it felt like those words didn’t even come from his mouth, but straight from his fractured soul. “And it was all a lie.”
McKena’s grip on his loosened as her body trembled, but then she snapped. She pulled back just enough to raise her voice, raw and broken. “It wasn’t a lie!” She yelled, the words cutting through the thick silence. Her voice cracked, but she didn’t care. She let go of him before she quickly stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her. Tears streamed down her face, streaking her mascara in dark trails across her cheeks, but she didn’t wipe them away. She stood there, vulnerable, exposed, and yet unwavering as she looked him in the eyes.
“Yes,” she began, her voice shaking but it grew steadier with every passing word, “I joined The Division to protect CJ. And yes, carrying out things The Division wanted? It wasn’t me. It never was. But all of those moments that I shared with you? Those were the only times I’ve felt like myself these past two and a half years.” She took a step closer as her trembling hands hung at her sides. “Everything that I told you about myself was true. Every secret I shared with you? It was true. The way I felt about you… the way I feel about you… that’s true.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper, her gaze falling to the ground as if she couldn’t bear to look at him for what she was about to say. “The way I love you… has and always will be true.” Mac swallowed hard before she glanced back up at him, her voice was barely a whisper but still sharp enough to cut through the tension of the moment. “I know who you are, Olly. I know you better than anyone else does in the world. Better than Julian. Better than anyone.”
Her chest heaved with emotions as she held his gaze, tears still relentlessly streaming down her cheeks. “If you want to cut me out so you don’t feel anything anymore? So you can finally become the monster you think you need to be? Fine. I won’t fight you on it. If you don’t care about me anymore, I’ll let it go.” She paused for a moment, her voice breaking as she continued on, “But just know this… Despite everything, despite us being on different sides of… Whatever this is? I still love you. It doesn’t matter if it’s romantic, platonic or anything else, it’s all semantics. I just want want you to know that when you feel like nothing matters, when you say ‘fuck it all’ again… There’s someone who cares. There’s me.”
Mac reached out then, her hand trembling as she placed it gently on his chest. Her tear-filled eyes locked onto his, silently begging him to understand her. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice breaking once again. “The lie about wanting to be in The Division willingly? That was the only thing that wasn’t true. But everything about us? That was. Every single moment.” She let her hand linger on his chest for a moment, letting him truly see her, see the sincerity that was etched into every word and tear. Then she dropped her hand and stepped back, her expression resigned yet steady, waiting for his next move.
If he still had a heart buried under all that pain and anger, her words would have pulled at its strings. If there were still tears left to cry in those eyes as dark as the night inside his soul, his cheeks would be soaking wet right now, But he had chosen to kill that part of him, he shut down that glimmer of hope McKena represented for him in those early days after losing Faith the moment he pushed her head against that wall three weeks ago.
He didn’t do it for Julian, he didn’t do it for The Division. He did it for him, a flash of lucid madness, an instinctive reaction to what he saw as a breach of trust. “I poured my heart out to you, I told you things I never told anyone else. And you couldn’t tell me the most important one.” Was he talking about her role in the Division? Her true feelings? Both? ”Stay away from me Mac, stay safe.”
There were no distinct emotions in his voice, those last words came out in the same breath, making it sound like he meant the two things were linked. This was a goodbye, that much became clear when he walked past her. But it left her with perhaps more questions than before.
McKena’s breath hitched as he moved past her, the weight of his words slicing through her like a knife. But she wasn’t going to let it end like this. Not without one final moment. “Olly,” she said sharply, her voice breaking just slightly. She reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. Before he could say anything, McKena stepped closer, her hand gently resting on his shoulder as she looked into his eyes, his expression unreadable. For a brief second, the world seemed to stop. And then, with a sudden surge of courage, Mac leaned in and kissed him. Her lips met his in a soft lingering touch, not desperate, but full of every emotion she couldn’t find the words for. A kiss that spoke of love, regret and everything in between.
When she finally pulled back, her hand lingered on his cheek for a moment as her thumb brushed lightly against his skin. Tears once again streamed down her face, but she forced a trembling smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Goodbye, Olly,” she whispered, her voice breaking but full of finality. “Stay safe.” She stepped back, letting her hand fall away, and gave one last look before turning and walking away. Her shoulders were heavy, her heart shattered, but her steps were steady. She wouldn’t chase him again. This was it. Whatever happened next was his choice to make.
The kiss took him completely off guard, even though everything about their emotional encounter pointed in that direction. He stood still as her lips met his, frozen in place. No reaction on his end, he didn’t return the kiss, his hands remained buried in his pockets, where they had been since he took that first step toward the door. His eyes remained open, locked on her face as she closed hers and abandoned herself in that last gesture. For the first time in months he felt something, a mix of emotions all tangled up.
The affection he had felt for her, sympathy, a hint of regret. But mostly anger.
He had never kissed anyone since his girlfriend passed, he didn’t even think of being with another girl, the mere thought seemed like an insult to her memory. McKena just took that from him. Inside his pockets, his hands balled up in fists, the darkness he had inside him engulfing him completely. That familiar sensation, the urge of hurting her and hurting himself took over, just like that day.
But this time he was able to push it back. Not a word was spoken, no goodbye, nothing.
Olly took a decisive step toward the door and walked into the night, both literally and metaphorically, shutting McKena out as he shut that door close.
Just come in. Whatever happens, happens.
McKena sat on the edge of the couch, her elbows resting on her knees, her fingers loosely interlocked. She was dressed simply—worn jeans, an oversized sweatshirt—though her posture and the sharp focus in her eyes betrayed her restless energy. A glass of water sat untouched on the coffee table, condensation forming on the surface as the hours dragged on.
The sound of footsteps finally broke the stillness, deliberate and measured as they approached the open door. McKena’s gaze shifted toward it, and there he was. Olly. His silhouette was cast in shadows as he stepped inside, his expression unreadable, his every movement calm and calculated. He looked the same as always—stoic, detached, like nothing in the world could touch him. Like he wasn’t walking into something heavy.
She didn’t move, didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she let her eyes linger on him, taking him in like she was trying to read past the wall he always kept up. The silence stretched between them, thick and electric, before she finally spoke.
“You’re here,” she said quietly, her voice steady but carrying a weight that made it impossible to ignore. “Took you long enough.”
Her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze never leaving his as she leaned back slightly. “You never were one for showing up on time, huh? I can’t count how many times I waited for you, and I eagerly did it too. It never bothered me. Shit, it still doesn’t.”
She shook her head as she exhaled slowly, standing up from the couch and facing him fully. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. About Jack, about anything you want to ask. Whatever it is you came here for.”
Her tone softened then, just slightly, though her eyes stayed locked on his, daring him to avoid her gaze. “But after that? You have to promise me something.”
She took a step closer, the tension in the room building with every word. “You have to talk to me. About us. About what happened. No more ignoring it. No more pretending like it didn’t matter.”
She tilted her head, studying his face for any flicker of reaction. “Deal?”
Olly held her gaze, his dark eyes peeking through the curtain of messy hair staring right into hers. Piercing, intense and yet somehow detached, just like that fatal night. “Deal.” His voice was almost a whisper, a cold one. He had always been hard to read, more so after losing Faith. If he had any feelings about McKena, about this situation and what it did to her, he was very good at hiding it.
But that was a big IF.
“Did you talk to him?” He asked. Straight to the point, as if everything she had said until this moment didn’t really matter to him. Visiting her wasn’t the reason why he came here, talking about that night was something he would have preferred to avoid. But Jack Graves, the man he believed was behind the dead rats and snake left respectively outside the Division and Syndicate mansion, was a master at getting off the grid, a skill he honed in years living as a renegade. Nobody would be able to find him unless he wanted to. McKena was the only one who could know where he was, the only one he would talk to.
McKena’s lips curled into a small smirk as she watched Olly’s stoic demeanor, not letting his piercing gaze bother her in the slightest. Mac crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged her shoulders in a nonchalant way.
“I did talk to Jack,” she said in a calm and measured voice. “And I told him what you told me. That you know it was him.” He words hung in the air for a slight moment before she leaned forward slightly, the smirk on her face deepening. “Or… was it Jack at all?”
McKena furrowed her brow as her tone grew softer, almost teasing in its tone. “Because here’s the thing Ol, I know if it was him or not.” She leaned back slightly, her eyes staying sharply locked in with Olly’s. “So now my question to you is, do you know for sure if it was him or not? Hm? Do you?”
The rum almost seemed to hum with tension in the air as McKena’s words lingered for a moment. The way she played her cards deliberately was almost in a way to break Olly’s carefully composed facade.
Olly never lost his composure, her words didn’t shake his confidence in the slightest. He gave her a nod, his voice calm and collected as he explained how he got to this conclusion. “Three rats in the Division, the three people who hurt you. Myself, Juliian and Ozzie. And a snake in Southie, the origin of all this. The person who attacked your cousin and forced you to drop your mask.” While he was not a man of faith (no pun intended), he was raised in a catholic orphanage and the myth of the snake in Eden, the origin of all sins and cause of the Fall was not lost on him.
“I know he’s out for blood, I expect him to come for me and Julian possibly. But that’s it, I’m not letting him come for the kids.” He never mentioned who the kids were, put it was easy to put names on them. Julian's younger brother, Ozzie Savell and Southie Syndicate's own Charli Rozzi. One of the first thing she remembered after the attack that night was Olly and Ozzie getting into a fight right before he left, which made her think that he wouldn't particularly care if the young Savell got caught in the wake of Jack's supposed revenge. Charli, on the other hand, she knew for a fact that Olly had somewhat of a soft spot for her.
McKena let out an amused laugh as she finally pushed herself up off of the couch she had been sitting on. She then slowly began to circle Olly with her hands casually clasped behind her back. Her gaze stayed on him the entire time as a sly smile crossed over her lips.
“Three rats in The Division, huh?” She mused, her tone light but was laced with something sharper. “And a snake in Southie? That theory is cute, Olly, it really is. Obviously you and the rest of The Division have put a lot of thought into this.” McKena stopped just behind Olly, leaning in slightly as her voice dropped to something that was almost conspiracy-like. “But here’s the thing… Jack? He’s not the one leaving littles presents behind. The rats, the snakes? He doesn’t have a damn clue who’s behind it. Sorry to disappoint.”
McKena stepped back into Olly’s line of sight, crossing her arms as she tilted her head at him. “But you’re right about one thing. He’s coming for you and Julian. That much, I can confirm. And honestly?” Her lips curved into a smirk. “I’d start watching your back if I were you.” She shrugged, her tone turning playful as she leaned back slightly against the armrest of the couch. “But hey, what do I know? I’m just the messenger, right?”
Even now, there was no visible change in his demeanor. He stood still as McKena circled around him, not even following her movements with his eyes. “Did he tell you that?” He spoke once she was in front of him, their glances once again locking. “Because he denied taking the young Grimes for months, even though everybody knew he had him. Taking a bullet for you doesn’t change the fact that he’s a liar, that he’s scum just like the rest of us.”
McKena’s gaze was serious as she stared into Olly’s eyes. “Jack might lie to people, Olly,” she said softly, her voice steady but quieter now. “But he never lies to me. Ever. You can trust that it’s true.” Mac’s arms dropped to her sides and the cheeky edge that she had displayed earlier started to fade. “If you want to fight Jack so badly before he gets you from behind like the boogey-man, name a time and a place, Olly. He will show. He told me to tell you that he promises that you’ll get your fight and then some.”
“You used to think the same about me too, remember?” He just couldn’t help himself, his lips curling into a sneer as he twisted the knife in the wound. “I’ll let you know then, so you can tell your knight in shining armor. Take care, Mac.” As he said those words, he turned around and headed to the door.
Mac didn’t even hesitate. As soon as Olly turned toward the door, which she fully expected, she was after him. Her steps were quick and urgent until she caught up to him and grabbed him from behind, her arms wrapping around his waist in a tight, desperate hug. She pressed her forehead against his back, her voice trembling but somehow firm. “Wait. Please, Olly, just wait…”
She held onto him, as if letting go would mean losing her last chance at closure, which was something she couldn’t bear. “You owe me this,” she said quickly, her grip tightening. “You owe me this one talk. My opinion of you hasn’t changed. Not then, not now. I know I lied to you, and I’m sorry… Goddamnit, I’m so fucking sorry. But please, Olly, just please talk to me.”
McKena’s voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t let go and she refused to waver. “You can say whatever you need to and I’ll accept it. Whatever the truth might be, I’ll take it. And after that? After we have a chance to hear each other out? I’ll leave you alone. I’ll never bother you again if that is what you truly want. Just… Please, give me this.” Her words hung in the air with a heavy emotion as McKena stood there, holding on tightly to Olly as she waited for something, anything, from him.
She could feel his muscles relaxing as he let out a long sigh. The tension she sensed when she stopped her, his whole body stiffening as her arms wrapped around her torso, it all went away in the blink of an eye. And with that, her fear that he would turn around and hit her again. The flashbacks of the night, the most painful of betrayals she could have ever imagined had haunted her dreams for weeks, She needed this closure, as painful as it might be.
“I cared about you.” Past tense, that sounded like a sentence. “I trusted you, you had been there when I was at my lowest, you convinced me that I should have kept going when all I wanted was to say fuck it all.” He never turned around, speaking those words as her face was pressed on his back. To her, it felt like those words didn’t even come from his mouth, but straight from his fractured soul. “And it was all a lie.”
McKena’s grip on his loosened as her body trembled, but then she snapped. She pulled back just enough to raise her voice, raw and broken. “It wasn’t a lie!” She yelled, the words cutting through the thick silence. Her voice cracked, but she didn’t care. She let go of him before she quickly stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her. Tears streamed down her face, streaking her mascara in dark trails across her cheeks, but she didn’t wipe them away. She stood there, vulnerable, exposed, and yet unwavering as she looked him in the eyes.
“Yes,” she began, her voice shaking but it grew steadier with every passing word, “I joined The Division to protect CJ. And yes, carrying out things The Division wanted? It wasn’t me. It never was. But all of those moments that I shared with you? Those were the only times I’ve felt like myself these past two and a half years.” She took a step closer as her trembling hands hung at her sides. “Everything that I told you about myself was true. Every secret I shared with you? It was true. The way I felt about you… the way I feel about you… that’s true.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper, her gaze falling to the ground as if she couldn’t bear to look at him for what she was about to say. “The way I love you… has and always will be true.” Mac swallowed hard before she glanced back up at him, her voice was barely a whisper but still sharp enough to cut through the tension of the moment. “I know who you are, Olly. I know you better than anyone else does in the world. Better than Julian. Better than anyone.”
Her chest heaved with emotions as she held his gaze, tears still relentlessly streaming down her cheeks. “If you want to cut me out so you don’t feel anything anymore? So you can finally become the monster you think you need to be? Fine. I won’t fight you on it. If you don’t care about me anymore, I’ll let it go.” She paused for a moment, her voice breaking as she continued on, “But just know this… Despite everything, despite us being on different sides of… Whatever this is? I still love you. It doesn’t matter if it’s romantic, platonic or anything else, it’s all semantics. I just want want you to know that when you feel like nothing matters, when you say ‘fuck it all’ again… There’s someone who cares. There’s me.”
Mac reached out then, her hand trembling as she placed it gently on his chest. Her tear-filled eyes locked onto his, silently begging him to understand her. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice breaking once again. “The lie about wanting to be in The Division willingly? That was the only thing that wasn’t true. But everything about us? That was. Every single moment.” She let her hand linger on his chest for a moment, letting him truly see her, see the sincerity that was etched into every word and tear. Then she dropped her hand and stepped back, her expression resigned yet steady, waiting for his next move.
If he still had a heart buried under all that pain and anger, her words would have pulled at its strings. If there were still tears left to cry in those eyes as dark as the night inside his soul, his cheeks would be soaking wet right now, But he had chosen to kill that part of him, he shut down that glimmer of hope McKena represented for him in those early days after losing Faith the moment he pushed her head against that wall three weeks ago.
He didn’t do it for Julian, he didn’t do it for The Division. He did it for him, a flash of lucid madness, an instinctive reaction to what he saw as a breach of trust. “I poured my heart out to you, I told you things I never told anyone else. And you couldn’t tell me the most important one.” Was he talking about her role in the Division? Her true feelings? Both? ”Stay away from me Mac, stay safe.”
There were no distinct emotions in his voice, those last words came out in the same breath, making it sound like he meant the two things were linked. This was a goodbye, that much became clear when he walked past her. But it left her with perhaps more questions than before.
McKena’s breath hitched as he moved past her, the weight of his words slicing through her like a knife. But she wasn’t going to let it end like this. Not without one final moment. “Olly,” she said sharply, her voice breaking just slightly. She reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. Before he could say anything, McKena stepped closer, her hand gently resting on his shoulder as she looked into his eyes, his expression unreadable. For a brief second, the world seemed to stop. And then, with a sudden surge of courage, Mac leaned in and kissed him. Her lips met his in a soft lingering touch, not desperate, but full of every emotion she couldn’t find the words for. A kiss that spoke of love, regret and everything in between.
When she finally pulled back, her hand lingered on his cheek for a moment as her thumb brushed lightly against his skin. Tears once again streamed down her face, but she forced a trembling smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Goodbye, Olly,” she whispered, her voice breaking but full of finality. “Stay safe.” She stepped back, letting her hand fall away, and gave one last look before turning and walking away. Her shoulders were heavy, her heart shattered, but her steps were steady. She wouldn’t chase him again. This was it. Whatever happened next was his choice to make.
The kiss took him completely off guard, even though everything about their emotional encounter pointed in that direction. He stood still as her lips met his, frozen in place. No reaction on his end, he didn’t return the kiss, his hands remained buried in his pockets, where they had been since he took that first step toward the door. His eyes remained open, locked on her face as she closed hers and abandoned herself in that last gesture. For the first time in months he felt something, a mix of emotions all tangled up.
The affection he had felt for her, sympathy, a hint of regret. But mostly anger.
He had never kissed anyone since his girlfriend passed, he didn’t even think of being with another girl, the mere thought seemed like an insult to her memory. McKena just took that from him. Inside his pockets, his hands balled up in fists, the darkness he had inside him engulfing him completely. That familiar sensation, the urge of hurting her and hurting himself took over, just like that day.
But this time he was able to push it back. Not a word was spoken, no goodbye, nothing.
Olly took a decisive step toward the door and walked into the night, both literally and metaphorically, shutting McKena out as he shut that door close.