He keeps talking, but I can’t reply. I don’t have the bandwidth because I’m too busy staring at Oliver’s face, trying to decipher what the problem is before he walks inside.
“I’ll go so you two can talk, but I’m sticking nearby in case you need me to handle him.”
“What?” I ask, looking at my uncle once Oliver is out of view, heading toward the entrance to the bar.
He slides out of the booth and stands at the end of the table, his fingers pressed against the wood top. “I’m here if you need me. I won’t leave until I know you’re okay.”
“Thanks,” I say, my voice soft and my throat dry. I pull my hands into my lap, twisting my fingerstogether to do something to keep myself from a complete panic attack.
The door to the bar opens as my uncle walks away, leaving me to have whatever this conversation is with Oliver alone. My eyes lock with Oliver’s, and I wave, not even bothering to stand from my seat. I can’t. I think my entire body would shake from nerves. Oliver doesn’t stress me out, but I could tell when he called that something big had happened and he wanted to talk to me as soon as possible about it.
“Hey,” he says once he makes it to the table where my ass is virtually superglued to the seat. He bends forward, his hand touching my face as he kisses my cheek. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart.”
“Hey, handsome.” I stare up at him, seeing the storm raging in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m better now,” he says as he takes the seat my uncle just vacated.
“What’s wrong?”
He scrubs a hand down his face before his fingertips disappear into his beard. “I ran into an issue today.”
“Okay,” I reply, drawing out the word. I twist my fingers faster in my lap as the knot in my stomach tightens.
“Mark is a problem.”
“Mark?” I ask, trying to think of who the hell Mark is, when the name suddenly slams into me like a ton of bricks. My body goes cold.
“Yeah, that one,” he says as the color leaves my cheeks.
“What happened?”
He places one hand on the table, kneading his fingertips into the wood. “Don’t freak out.”
I suck in a deep breath as my body goes rigid. My heart, which was already beating at a frantic pace, picks up speed. Nothing good starts with that statement. Nothing.
He glances down at the table. “The cops came to the garage.”
My chest tightens as my heart feels like it’s battering the backs of my ribs and is liable to burst free. “Oh no,” I whisper as I place one of my hands near his on the table, my pinkie touching his.
“He went to the cops, and they arrested me,” he says, finally bringing his gaze back to mine. “But I have a lawyer working on everything.”
My head starts to spin, and my vision goes blurry as I breathe faster than any human probably should. “Fuck,” I whisper, feeling the world go fuzzy.
“Lulu,” Oliver calls out as everything goes white and there’s only nothingness around me.
When my eyes flutter open again, I’m in warm arms and I’m comfortable. I blink up at Oliver, who’s staring down at me with softness dotting his features. “Sweetheart,” he whispers. “Breathe, baby.”
“I had the worst dream,” I say, trying to lift myself up from the awkward position I’m in.
But then it hits me. It wasn’t a dream. I’m at the bar. I’m here with Oliver. Everything comes crashing into me again. All his words. The statement about the cops. His arrest. Mark.
“Fuck,” I hiss as I sit up quickly, my head spinning again.
“Easy,” Oliver says to me softly.
“Here’s some water,” Uncle Vinnie says. “Good, she’s awake.”
I turn my glassy gaze toward my uncle, but I can’t find the words. My head’s too busy trying to process everything Oliver said, even if it was only a few sentences.
