My phone buzzed, and I pulled it from my pocket to see it was Travis. He had been silent since I’d sent him a message to only contact me in case of emergencies, and this was his third time calling this morning.
“Excuse me. I have to take this.” Answering, I stood back up. “Yeah?”
“I’ve been trying to reach you, where have you been?” Travis’s tried to get out through short breaths.
“Mia had court this morning,” I explained, taking a step outside to the side of the building. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“No, Ollie. Things are not okay. I’m bugging out over here. Dex isn’t fucking around. They fucking killed him, Ollie. They killed him to get to you. If you don’t come back and give him what he wants …”
“Slow down, who’s gone?” My gaze darted around until it found Mia eating on the other side of the window. “Who did Dex kill?”
“Oscar. He was shanked last night at High Down. Your brother is dead. Now, I don’t know if he believes you two were close, but it was a fucking message. They can take anyone anytime they want. I don’t know what to do, Oliver. They don’t have your address, but I’m still packing up Summer and going to stay with her mom for …” his words fell into the back of my mind. The mobile shook in my hand, and the steady gaze I once had on Mia grew blurry.
My brother was dead.
Oscarwas dead.
“Ollie, are you there? Are you hearing what I’m saying?” Travis shouted into the phone.
I dropped my head back and moved my fingers over my temples. “Yeah.” I couldn’t say more. My emotions betrayed me over a brother I’d once loved but learned to hate, but still always assumed he’d become this changed man one day, that I could help him change.
“Leave Mia there and come back and handle this. Give Dex what he wants.”
“When’s the funeral?”
“Funeral? You can’t be serious. Your brother was a fucking wanker. He doesn’t deserve a funeral.”
“His prison sentence—his fight—is over,” I reminded him through clenched teeth. “Stop punishing a dead man, it only thrives the hate that should be buried along with him. We are all worthy of closure.”
I ended the call with Travis to ring High Down Prison.
They planned on burying Oscar tomorrow. I had to leave today.
“Mum! What have you done?!” Oscar shouts, rushing through the door, unexpected, dropping grocery bags in his wake as Mum clings on to me, crying.
Her entire body is shaking, and she’s whipping her head violently, mumbling things I don’t understand. Maybe it’s because I’m crying, too, gasping for air. Oscar rips me from her arms into his. He searches my face and tilts my head back into his hands. “Breathe, Oliver,” he chants, pushing his fingers through my sweaty hair. “I’m here. I’m right here,” a tear slips from his cheek and lands on my lips. I’ve never seen Oscar cry, but it’s fascinating, and I don’t know how it’s possible, but his brown eyes go black when he snaps his head back to mum. “He’s eight years old, Mum! Eight!”
“Oscar,” Mum cries, “I’m sorry. I didn’t … Come home. Please, I don’t know what happened. I can’t take this anymore ...”
Oscar lays me over the mattress, and at the corner of my eye, he jumps from his knees and tackles Mum, his fists and threats flying, “If anything happens to him, you’ll lose me too. You’ll lose me forever, you worthless slapper. I should fucking kill you.” He slams her against the wall, and she curls into the corner.
Oscar returns to my side and cradles me in his arms. “It’s going to be okay. I won’t ever let anything happen to you,” Oscar whispers, wiping the tears from my eyes in the warm bed for the first time as Mum cries from the corner of the room. He’s eighteen now, big, strong, and safe. My brother. “Close your eyes, Oliver. Close your eyes and think about something else. Dream, brother.”
It took me time to catch my emotions and shove them back down. Pocketing the phone, I walked back into the restaurant and toward the table, pulled out the chair, and took a seat. Bruce and Diane continued their conversation, arguing over countertops for the kitchen. I stared at the burger before me, lost my appetite somewhere back in the parking lot.
Mia’s fingers drifted over my bouncing knee in search for my hand. “What is it?” she whispered, lacing her tiny fingers in mine. The touch of her hand steadied my heart rate, injecting strength. But I couldn’t look her in the eyes. Oscar had tormented her, tried to rape her.
“Ollie?”
I swung my head and pressed my lips against her temple, slamming my eyes closed and inhaling a deep breath.
“Okay,” she nodded and gripped my thigh, “Dad, we have to go.”
“Sure, yeah,” Bruce glanced at me and set down his fork, “Everything okay?”
Shoving my hand into my pocket, I found my wallet and threw cash over the table. I didn’t know if it was too much or not enough, but my head was spinning, and Mia and I stood from our chairs. “It will be. Thank you both for everything.”
Bruce stood and recognized the look in my eyes. “Yeah, it’s been great having you, Oliver. I know you’ll take care of my girl, better than I ever could.”
