15. Not Going Crazy

When he opened his eyes,he found himself looking at his bedroom ceiling. Olson glanced around, trying to figure how he’d gotten here.

A naked alpha sat with him on the bed. Broad shoulders, scarred flesh.

When the alpha turned, it was George’s face all over again.

A broken sound fell out of Olson’s mouth. “It can’t be you. It just can’t.”

“Ollsonnn?” the alpha growled, prowling closer, covering Olson with his body.

Rex. This was Rex.

“Why do you have his face?” Olson choked. “He’s dead!”

Rex tilted his head. His confusion looked exactly like George’s, too. And Olson didn’t know how to deal with this. How to deal with an alpha who wore George’s face. George’s scent.

He broke down, pulling a pillow over his head and sobbing. “He’s dead!”

Rex pressed close, wrapping his arms around Olson, hugging him close. “Olllsonnnn. Protect.”

Why did he have to treasure Olson this much, too?

Rex peeled the pillow off Olson’s face, kissing the tears off his cheeks. He nuzzled Olson and held him, and it was different enough from George’s excitable nature that Olson held on to that.

He closed his eyes. Now that he wasn’t looking, he could believe that it was Rex on top of him. That made it easier to think.

Olson fumbled under the pillows and found his phone, peeking out to make a call.

Varrick picked up immediately. “I’m heading out to work.”

“C-can you come over? For a bit.” Olson’s voice was hoarse.

Varrick’s tone sharpened. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ll know when you get here.”

“Fuck.”

Olson ended the call. He and Varrick were close. They were born a few years apart, but Varrick had always been protective of him.

He set down the phone, squeezing his eyes shut. “Hey. Rex. Put on some clothes. My brother’s coming over soon.”

Rex made a soft, questioning sound, nuzzling Olson’s chest with his now-smooth face. Then he peeled himself off, and fabric rustled.

Something light fell on Olson’s body. When Olson closed his hands around it, he realized it was clothes. For him.

“Olson clothes,” Rex rumbled.

Even now, he was still trying to help. Olson gave a wobbly smile, sitting up in bed. He turned his back to Rex and pulled on the clothes—from last night, but he wasn’t too picky right now.

Careful fingers touched his shoulder.

Olson breathed out. It wasn’t Rex’s fault that things had gotten so messed up. He thought about going into the living room to meet Varrick, but his legs still felt boneless.

So he closed his eyes and turned to face the bedroom door, patting the bed behind him. “Sit here.”

Rex prowled onto the bed. Instead of keeping any distance, he sat with Olson between his legs, his chest pressed against Olson’s back, his arms wrapped snug around Olson’s waist.

“Mine,” Rex whispered, nuzzling his ear.

Olson breathed in, and breathed out.

The front door opened some time later. “Olson?” Varrick called.

“Bedroom,” Olson said.

Two sets of footsteps hurried through the apartment. Varrick appeared in the doorway, followed by Emmy, who had Hunter strapped to his chest.

“What’s wr—”

Olson knew the moment Varrick saw Rex, because he froze.

Varrick blinked several times, staring at the man behind Olson. “What the fuck?”

“What’s wrong?” Emmy frowned. “Is that Rex? Did you shave off his beard?”

Olson swallowed. “Remember the alpha I told you about?” he said to Varrick. “The—The one you had Nate look up.”

Varrick stared at Rex some more. Rex hooked his chin over Olson’s shoulder, hugging him possessively.

“Why the hell does he look like—George?” Varrick finally found his voice.

“Who’s George?” Emmy asked, studying Olson’s face. “Wait. Is that the alpha you lost?”

Varrick sighed. “Olson lost his alpha a long time ago. This man looks exactly like him.” To Olson, he said, “Do you think he could be George’s relative?”

Could he? George could have an aunt or uncle who looked remarkably like him. But... “It doesn’t add up. Rex—Rex bit me when he was maybe six years old. Remember that kid at Fast Fries? I’d never even seen him before. Then he came back recently and bit me again. Bonding marks. Both times.” Olson’s breath hitched.

Varrick exchanged a look with him. “How long ago did George die?”

“Twenty-one years.”

“And Rex is—”

“Twenty-one.” Olson’s heart pounded. “It’s not possible.”

Emmy’s eyes grew wide. “He reincarnated.”

Varrick frowned. “If you’re right—”

“I am!” Emmy puffed out his chest.

“It’s not possible,” Olson said again.

Emmy shook his finger at Olson. “Just because you don’t believe it doesn’t mean it’s a lie.”

Olson swallowed hard, wrapping his hand around Rex’s forearm. It was too wild to be true.

Except Rex nuzzled him, not letting go at all.

“Say we assume that he was reincarnated,” Olson said haltingly, barely breathing. “It... It would explain a lot. He’s... obsessed with me.”

Varrick snorted. “Again, huh?”

“He picked up George’s camera this morning. And he—he saw the photo.” Olson touched his locket. “For being that obsessed, he wasn’t jealous of any of George’s bonding marks.”

Mine,Rex had said when he’d touched them.

Olson swallowed hard, glancing sideways at Rex. “Were you aware? That these bonding marks might... might all be yours?”

Rex tilted his head, shrugging. He rubbed his thumb over the pair on Olson’s wrist. “Right.”

“What’s right? The markings are yours? Or they feel right?”

Rex nodded. “Feel right.” He closed his fist around Olson’s locket. “Right.”

Olson bit his lip, his heart pounding. “We went out for ice cream, you know. Rex wanted to go. And he picked George’s favorite without any prompting.”

“Mint chip,” Rex said.

Olson breathed out, closing his eyes.

It was crazy. It shouldn’t be happening.

But little else explained all the coincidences that came with Rex.

“Say we build on the assumption that he’s George reincarnated,” Varrick said, eyeing Rex. “If that’s true, then he’s gone through a whole fucking lot to come back to you.”

Olson’s throat tightened. “Y-yeah.”

George would’ve done it. If there was one thing Olson knew, it was that George would’ve done everything in his power to return to Olson’s side, no matter the cost.

He traced his thumb over Rex’s forearm, touching their heads together. Just trying to comprehend the magnitude of this situation.

“I’m happy for you,” Varrick said finally. “Even though this is one hell of a mind-fuck.”

“Yeah.” Olson nodded. “I’m.... trying. I need some time.”

Varrick nodded and addressed Rex. “Mind if I hug Olson?”

Rex narrowed his eyes but didn’t let go. Olson huffed and nudged him, leaning forward so Varrick could awkwardly fit his arms between Rex and Olson. “Hey, let me,” Olson said.

Rex growled.

“I’m his brother,” Varrick said dryly. “And I have a bondmate. I’m not stealing him.”

“Mine,” Rex growled.

“Got that loud and clear,” Varrick said. “Anyway, I’m Varrick. And you’ve met Emmy.”

Rex nodded reluctantly. “Butt. Butt bless.”

Emmy beamed. “Rex remembers the butt blessings,” he crowed, throwing his arms into the air. Hunter giggled and kicked at the sudden movement. “See, Big O! They work!”

Olson had his doubts about that, since those blessings would’ve had to be around before Rex’s birth to make this all happen, but he wasn’t going to nitpick.

“Thanks,” Olson said. “I appreciate you teaching Rex how to use a pen.”

“We’re gonna draw so many butt blessings today,” Emmy promised.

Olson sighed. Varrick hugged Olson and ruffled his hair, before letting go. Rex pulled Olson back against his chest.

“I’m late for work,” Varrick said, straightening his police uniform. “We’ll leave you two to figure things out from here. Call if there’s anything urgent.”

“Will do,” Olson said. “Thanks.”

He waited until the front door shut. Then he squirmed around in Rex’s arms, breathing in deeply. Olson opened his eyes.

It still hurt, seeing his face. George—Rex—looked older than how Olson remembered. How much had he aged during his captivity?

He cupped his alpha’s face in his hands, caressing his skin. “Do you want me to call you George, or Rex?”

“Rex.” Still that calm gaze.

“Okay. Rex.” Olson leaned in carefully and nuzzled his cheek. “Do you... remember anything from before? When we were younger. Your—Your past life.”

Rex shrugged. How would he even find the words to tell Olson any of it? Or make sense of it, when his kidnappers had scrambled his mind to almost-feral?

The thought of George—Rex—going through all that pain... It hurt a lot more now.

Olson bit his lip, burying his face against Rex’s throat. “I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you somehow.”

Olson didn’t have the skill to break into a kidnapping ring. But if he’d known, if he’d just known...

He remembered Rex as a child fiercely trying to claim him. Had Rex not been kidnapped or tortured... he’d have no trouble convincing Olson of his identity.

Olson trailed his fingers over Rex’s chest, pressing kisses all over his skin. “Let me—Let me look at you.”

He tugged up Rex’s shirt; Rex helped to shrug it off.

The scars looked even worse now. Olson shuddered. He eased Rex down against the bed; he kissed all of Rex’s scars, his heart aching.

“Olllsonnn,” Rex murmured, brushing away Olson’s tears.

“I’m sorry,” Olson choked. “I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

Rex leaned up; Olson nudged him back down. They worked off his pants, too, and Olson dropped more kisses down his scarred legs.

Unlike the movies, Olson’s tears didn’t fade Rex’s scars. They remained on his skin, bumpy, some of them healed terribly. Olson pressed his face to Rex’s hip, shaking. Feeling like crap because he’d just been living his life while Rex was elsewhere being tortured, and he didn’t even do anything to help.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Large fingers brushed through his hair. Rex petted him for a while. Then he hauled Olson up and worked off his clothes, too, until they were pressed against each other, naked.

Rex rolled Olson under him, bracing his weight next to Olson’s shoulders so he wouldn’t crush him.

He mimicked what Olson had done: pressing clumsy kisses to every inch of Olson’s body, so unblemished compared to his own.

Rex cradled Olson gently, sniffing at his skin, nuzzling him and kissing him.

Olson felt so unworthy.

He should’ve done more. He should’ve welcomed Rex as soon as he’d appeared, provided for him and kept him safe.

But it would hurt Rex more if Olson removed himself from Rex’s life. So he didn’t.

Olson wet his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Rex kissed him on the mouth, sliding his tongue inside. “Mine.”

He grew hard against Olson; his tip slid between Olson’s legs into the cleft of his asscheeks. Olson parted his knees, trembling when Rex sank home.

Rex groaned, sheathing himself all the way inside. It felt so good.

“Mine,” Rex growled, pumping deeper, harder. Olson panted and clutched at him, his legs spreading wider, his hands clutching at his alpha.

It felt like a different sort of claim. Like Rex was claiming Olson as his mate, and Olson was surrendering completely to him.

“Please,” Olson whispered, shuddering when Rex ground against that one spot and sent him over the edge.

He didn’t know how long they spent tangled together. Rex rocked inside him over and over, his thrusts growing faster, harder, his breathing rough against Olson’s neck. The thought of Rex leaving his come deep inside... It sent Olson through another screaming release.

By the time Rex came, Olson was boneless and trembling beneath him, floating in a daze.

“Y-you know you can do this whenever you want, right?” Olson said, his voice ragged. “I—I used to wake up knotted with you. And I liked it.”

Rex groaned, pushing his swelling knot deeper into Olson. “Mate Olson. When Olson sleep.”

“Yes,” Olson hissed.

Rex pressed him into the bed. And the next grind of his knot sent Olson’s eyes rolling back, the pleasure so overwhelming that he blacked out.

When he came to,Rex was kissing his face.

It was still a shock, seeing George. But Olson swallowed his reaction more easily now, brushing his fingers through Rex’s hair. “I’m sorry.”

Rex frowned. “No sorry.”

“You were hurt for a long time, Rex,” Olson murmured. “I should’ve...” He sighed. “I should’ve helped somehow.”

At that, Rex snarled. “No.”

“But—”

“Bad,” Rex growled, shaking his head furiously. He moved his lips around half-formed words, looking increasingly frustrated with himself. “Bad. No Olson. Keep safe.”

“You—You don’t want me rescuing you?” Olson guessed.

Rex growled louder. “No. Hurt Olson.” He scowled, scared and angry all at once.

“Do you... Do you think they might’ve hurt me, too?”

Rex flinched, caging Olson with his body. “No go. Olson keep safe.”

“But I can’t just leave my mate when he’s hurting!” Olson frowned. “If you hurt, I want to be there with you.”

“No.” Rex scowled. “Keep safe.”

Olson’s chest squeezed. He pulled Rex close, hugging him tight. “Okay. I’ll be safe.”

At that, Rex relaxed, nuzzling him.

But it wasn’t as though either of them was good at self defense. Varrick had taught Olson how to shoot a gun, but Olson was pragmatic enough to know he might miss a target under duress.

And that made him nervous, because Rex’s history could very well repeat itself.

“I’ll get you more lessons,” Olson said. “I have an idea who to ask. That way, we’ll be more prepared if anyone comes for you.”

Rex growled, but he snuggled more deeply into Olson’s arms, dragging his wrists all over Olson’s skin.