"I thought you were just... I don't know, working somewhere. Living your life." She shakes her head slightly. "Not this."
"This is my life now," I say simply. "And right now, I'm more concerned about yours. How long has he been hitting you, Liv?"
She looks down, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. "It started about a year ago. Just... grabbing at first. Then pushing. Then..." She gestures vaguely toward her face.
A year. I've been gone two, which means it started after I left. The knowledge doesn't make me feel any better.
"Why didn't you call me sooner?" I move toward her living room, scanning the place. Single point of entry from the front, another through the kitchen. Windows too small for an adult to climb through easily. I'm already formulating defensive positions out of habit.
Olivia follows me, keeping distance between us. "I didn't think it was that bad at first. I thought I could fix it." She gives a small, bitter laugh. "Then I thought I deserved it."
"No." I turn to face her, unable to keep the intensity from my voice. "No one deserves this, Liv. Especially not you."
She hugs herself, looking smaller than ever. "Why did you leave, Tyler? You just... disappeared. One day you were here, and then you were gone."
The question I knew was coming but still don't have a good answer for. At least, not one I'm ready to give her.
"I needed to figure some things out." It's not a lie, just not the whole truth. "I couldn't stay in Hope Peak anymore."
"For two years? Without a word?" There's hurt in her voice, old pain that hasn't healed.
"I left you my number," I counter. "Told you to call if you needed anything."
"I didn't need anything then. I needed my friend." She looks up at me, eyes suddenly fierce despite the fading bruise. "You were my best friend, and you left right after my mom died. When I was trying to figure out how to live without both my parents."
The guilt hits me hard, right in the chest. She's right. I did leave when she was vulnerable. But watching her fall for Devin, seeing the way she looked at him… It was killing me slowly.
"I'm here now," I say finally. "And I'm not going anywhere until you're safe."
She stares at me for a long moment, and I wonder what she sees. Do I look different to her? The military and the club have changed me. I'm harder now, more guarded. The way I hold myself, always alert, always ready, it's second nature after years of combat.
"So... Outlaw Order? Sounds dangerous." Her eyes drift to the knife hilt barely visible inside my cut.
"They're my family now," I say, not directly answering her implied question. "Good men."
"And what does a motorcycle club do exactly?" There's a new wariness in her voice.
"We look after each other. And the things we care about."
Her eyes narrow slightly. "That's not really an answer."
"It's all I've got right now." I step closer. "Look, I didn't come back to Hope Peak to explain my life choices. I came back because you said you needed help, and I'm here to give it."
She takes a deep breath, eyes still on my cut. "What are you going to do?"
"First, you're going to pack a bag. Everything you need. I'm taking you somewhere safe here in town."
"I can't just leave. I have my job. My students—"
"You're not leaving Hope Peak," I clarify. "Just this house. Somewhere Devin won't look for you while we figure this out."
"And then what?" she challenges. "Hide forever in the same town? Run into him at the grocery store?"
I step closer to her, close enough that I can smell the faint scent of her shampoo. Something citrusy and familiar that brings back a flood of memories.
"Then I make sure Devin never comes near you again."
Fear flashes in her eyes. "Tyler, no. That's not why I called you. I don't want you to hurt him—"
