“What happened?” Uncle Vinnie asks as he takes the spot across from us while Oliver stays by my side, moving the glass of water in front of me.
“I didn’t eat today,” I lie.
Zoey doesn’t want anyone to know what happened. I wouldn’t either. And there’s no way Uncle Vinnie can know why Oliver beat up Mark because it’ll spread through the family like a brush fire during a drought. And once everyone knows, they’ll go after Mark too, and they’ll be arrested just like Oliver.
“Entirely my fault. I know not to do that.”
Uncle Vinnie eyes me. The man can smell bullshit a mile away, and I am awful at lying. Without missing a beat, my uncle turns his skeptical gaze toward Oliver.
“You going to be honest with me or bullshit me like my niece?” he asks Oliver point-blank. “What had her pass out cold when she was fine a minute ago?”
Oliver peers over at me, and I do my best to convey to him to keep his mouth shut. But I don’t have ESP, and this is a time when it would be absolutely useful. My fingers tighten on the sleeve of his jacket, holding on to him like my very life depends on the connection.
This is bad.
So very bad.
He was arrested.
Arrest leads to court. Court leads to jail. Jail leads to Oliver being gone for however long the judge feels is necessary for the crime that wasn’t a crime that Oliver supposedly committed.
Shit.
This is my fault. He wouldn’t have gone to Mark’s place if he hadn’t overheard my conversation with Zoey.
We caused this problem for him.
A week ago, he was living his best life without our issues. He wasn’t facing jail time for something that had nothing to do with him.
“A man was a problem for a woman in this family, and I took care of him, if you know what I mean,” Oliver starts to explain, doing his best not to give too many details, which is impressive.
I couldn’t have done a better job myself, and I am adept at giving as little information as possible.
“Go on,” Uncle Vinnie says with a lift of his chin in Oliver’s direction.
“The asshole went to the cops, and I was arrested because the guy is a dick.”
“Which woman?” my uncle asks with a raised eyebrow as his gaze slides in my direction.
“Not me,” I say quickly, but I don’t say anything more. “And it’s not important who because Oliver handled it.”
“He handled it, but now it’s coming back to bite him in the ass, Lou. You have a lawyer?” Uncle Vinnie asks Oliver.
Oliver nods. “He came to the station and bailed me out. He’s working on a deal right now to save me some jail time.”
“What kind of time are we talking?” Uncle Vinnie asks.
“Under a year if I’m lucky,” Oliver says like he’s ordering a pizza or talking about the weather and not how many months of his life he’ll lose because of something that was done to a member of my family and not directly to him.
His words play on repeat in my head as I sit next to Oliver, finally feeling numb.
Uncle Vinnie whistles as he shakes his head. “That’s a fucking lot. How badly did you handle him?”
“I broke lots of shit, but he deserved it.”
“No doubt,” Uncle Vinnie says with a nod. He’s awfully calm about the entire conversation, which is like him, but under the circumstances, not like him at all. “And who did this guy do something to?”
My family never can let shit go, and neither will Uncle Vinnie. I know that deep in my soul, but that doesn’t mean I will give up the information willingly without Zoey’s consent.
