Olivia and Ricky's Odyssey to Rock Bottom

12. Fred

Content warning: Though there aren't graphic details, this chapter contains mentions of sexual assault & violence against a minor.

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Sebastian had gone into the administration office for Ricky, figuring out when Olivia would be out of school. She had classes until the late afternoon, which meant he had a lot of hours to kill before he could talk to her.

Going home wasn't an option, in case his father was working from the home office. Ricky wanted to postpone that confrontation for as long as possible. Hopefully, until after he had answers and a strategy that involved his father as minimally as possible.

It still left Ricky with the immediate issue of not wearing a shirt, but at that moment, he just needed to be alone with his thoughts. Getting a shirt could wait.

He grabbed a cab downtown to a private garden, heading straight for the secluded corner he'd come to visit.

In an alcove of green foliage stood a small abstract fountain sculpture of a treble clef in white marble—the water gently spilling down from a hole at the top. Across from it was a beautiful wooden bench with its back and legs cut out in a detailed Celtic design and painted orange. Green, white, and orange. The Irish colors.

This small spot was dedicated to Ricky's mother, who passed away when he was seven years old. Her body had been buried back in Ireland beside her parents, who had been killed in a car accident when she was a teenager.

Ricky let his fingers run over the small brass plaque on the bench, silently reading it.

In memory of Elizabeth "Beth" Marigold Stark von Linden

He sat down, got out his iPod and another cigarette, popped in the earphones, and turned up the volume of the garage rock. Closing his eyes, he took a deep drag of the smoke, lifting his face to the sun. It wasn't even noon, and already he had had an exceptionally shitty day.

Stumping out the cigarette when he finished it, Ricky lowered himself onto his back, using his school bag as a pillow, and kicked his legs up on the armrest. He needed to figure out what he would do if Casini couldn't provide him with an alibi.

Ricky hadn't realized he'd dozed off when he was suddenly woken; his legs pushed off the armrest with a force that made him fall off the bench and tumbled to the ground.

"Shit. What the fuc—!" Ricky stopped mid-sentence as he got up, his body going tense when he saw his father standing right in front of him.

It was indisputable whom Ricky had gotten his handsome and chiseled features from when you saw him next to his father. The strong jawline and high cheekbones that made their cheeks appear hollow. The straight nose like a Greek sculpture. But where Ricky had brilliant icy-blue eyes, Fred's were a cool silvery-gray.

Fred had a stern look on his face as he stood dressed in a dark, pinstriped tailored suit, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. "I got a very interesting call from Father Correll earlier, telling me my son is a rapist," he said venomously, pulling Ricky's earphones out with a rough tug on the cord, making him wince and grab at his ears.

"Dad, I didn— He said that?" Ricky asked in disbelief, stopping himself while he rolled the earphones around his iPod before placing it back in his pocket. What the fuck happened to innocent until proven guilty?

"And why the hell aren't you wearing a shirt?" Fred demanded angrily, ignoring Ricky's question, pulling on the front of the school blazer.

"That goddamn chauffeur you hired to drive me to school was a fucking dick and made me ruin it. So I didn't have any to wear," Ricky snapped back, shoving his father's hand away with his arm.