They kept Oliver, though. I walked right past him on my way out. The look on his face nearly killed me. And his words? My heart cracked.
Luckily, I was still in shock and kind of numb to my emotions.
Still, as I walked away from the warehouse, I couldn’t help but feel like I was making some kind of mistake. It felt like I had traded my life for his, and that didn’t sit right with me, no matter how mad I was at him.
Part of me blamed him for my father’s death. The other part of me, though, well, it knew that killing my father wasn’t his intention. He didn’t plan that, and if my dad hadn’t been there doing things he shouldn’t have been doing, he never would have died. I honestly wasn’t all that surprised by his death. I’d been preparing myself for it for years. When you lived the way he did, the only way out was by going to jail or dying, and he was too good to get caught.
I thought a small part of Oliver reminded me of my dad. Oliver was good at what he did, too. He was just as protective, but Oliver wanted out. Then again, my dad always said this was his last job, too. It never was. There was always something to pull him back, always an excuse to need the next job. That left me wondering if Oliver would be the same way.
Would he always get pulled back in?
I hadn’t walked far when I noticed a parked car that was tucked away, almost like it was hiding or waiting for a quick getaway. Something told me I needed to check it out. I walked over and bent down, looking through the driver’s side window. I saw that a panel of the dashboard had been pulled off, and wireswere exposed. I tried the handle and found the car unlocked. I climbed in and looked around.
Nothing was out of the ordinary, really. There were a few belongings in the car that I could see without even rummaging through things. There was a pack of gum, some change, and a cell phone in the passenger seat. The phone looked familiar, so I grabbed it and swiped at the screen. It wasn’t locked, but there was a message typed out in an unaddressed text conversation.
Crash, I hope you somehow manage to find this. Something tells me you will. Things with us started fucked up, and they ended just as fucked. But I wanted you to know, no matter what happens, I wouldn’t change any of it. Not the way you crashed into my life, not the journey we’ve been on together, not even trading my life for yours. I never thought I’d die just so someone else could live in my place, but here we are. Go and start the life you’ve always wanted. Just know that you were the best thing that ever happened to me. Know that I’ll spend my last minutes on this planet thinking of you, whether it’s today or twenty years from now. You’ll always be the one who got away. I love you, Amelia. Your Ollie.
Tears were rolling down my cheeks by the time I finished reading the message he left for me. I dropped the phone into my lap, and I leaned my head against the headrest as I squeezed my eyes closed. I grabbed the steering wheel and tried to shake it out of anger as I let out a scream of frustration.
I hated that my father was gone. I hated that Oliver was linked to it. But all that had already happened. There was no going back and changing it. All I could do was keep moving on. Daughters were meant to outlive their fathers. Even though I knew I’d miss him every day for the rest of my life, I also knew I’d survive his loss. But Oliver… Just thinking about living the rest of my life without him hurt someplace deep in my chest. It was sharp and felt like a blade slicing its way through me withevery breath I took. I wasn’t so sure that I could live without Oliver.
I knew I could survive. I could push him to the back of my head and force myself to move on in life. I knew I’d probably find some other guy to be with. We could’ve started our own family, grown old together, had grandchildren. But even if that happened, I still would’ve had Oliver at the back of my head. Always missing him. Never really moving on.
Could I forgive him for his involvement in my dad’s death?
That was when I realized that even though I was upset from finding out he was somehow involved, it was never really his fault. Not unless he was the one to raise a gun and fire it at my father. My dad was the only one I could blame for his death. He knew the life he was leading was dangerous, and he took that risk every time he got involved in another deal. I couldn’t blame Oliver for my dad dying. He wasn’t doing anything but trying to get himself out, just like I begged my dad to do for years.
I couldn’t turn and leave Oliver there, but I didn’t know what to do either. I knew that if I walked back in there, neither of us would make it out. They let me walk away once. They wouldn’t make that mistake again. I told myself to call the police, but that didn’t feel right. Plus, there was always the chance that they’d be gone before the police even arrived. I needed to do something to save Oliver, and I needed to do it quickly.
As much as I hated it, I knew the only way we’d be able to move on and live our lives together was if I got him away from Mikhail for good. I knew he’d pull Oliver back in any time something came up that he wanted. I wasn’t willing to let a stranger dictate my life like that. The only way I could make sure he was out of our lives for good was either by turning him into the police so they could lock him away for the rest of his life or by killing him. Just thinking about taking someone else’s life mademy stomach roll. It didn’t matter if I was thinking of killing a bad man. I would still be killing someone.
I wasn’t a killer. The only thing I could do was call the cops, but it went against everything that had been instilled in me. Growing up as I did meant keeping your head down and minding your own business. If you called the police, you were a snitch, and well, you know how the saying goes…
My hand was shaking as I picked up the phone. I dialed 9-1-1 and moved the phone to my ear as my heart pounded against my chest.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“I need the police. My boyfriend and I are being held hostage. We’re at a warehouse called Skyrocket. I-I think we’re being sex trafficked,” I said quietly. “Please hurry. They’re coming.” I hung up the phone, knowing that they’d track my location. With the police on the way, the only thing I had to do was make sure that they didn’t take Oliver anywhere else. That and make sure they didn’t kill him. With that thought, my worry soared.
I had been thinking that Oliver was priceless, that Mikhail refused to let him go because of how much money he brought in. It was in that instant that I realized that maybe he wasn’t letting him go in fear of Oliver rolling over. Oliver knew too much, and it would be easy for him to testify and put him away. Maybe he didn’t want to keep Oliver alive. Maybe he just wanted to make sure that Oliver couldn’t ever go against him.
I didn’t remember making any kind of decision. All I knew was that I had to do something. I had to act. I had to save Oliver before it was too late.
One moment, I was sitting in the car, and the next, I was driving toward the warehouse as fast as the car would go. The warehouse was getting closer and closer, but I wasn’t slowing down. I couldn’t. I needed to get to him as fast as possible, and I wanted to make a mess the police couldn’t miss.
I remembered closing my eyes and squeezing the steering wheel as tight as I could. I felt the car jerk. I heard the wood splintering and breaking as I drove through the wooden garage door of the building.
The car came to a sudden stop, and I opened my eyes. The car was half in, half out of the warehouse. In front of me was so much dust that I couldn’t see through it. Behind me was the bright sky.
I tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. I rolled down the window and started climbing out. I think maybe I hit my head in the mess of it all because I was dizzy, and my head was just as cloudy as the space in front of me.
I sucked in a gasping breath, and I inhaled the dust. I immediately began coughing as I tried to climb out of the car. That was when I felt a strong hand around my bicep, jerking me to my feet. Before I could even look up to see who was grabbing me, I knew it wasn’t Oliver. His touch immediately sent chills through my body, but I didn’t feel anything but anger.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” a man asked.
When I looked up, I recognized him as the one who threw me into the van.
“Let go,” I cried out, trying to jerk away, but his hold was too strong.
