“Who made the call?”
“He did.” I nod my head toward the man he addressed as Ollie. “He’s not one of them, he was forced against his will.”
“Is that true, Ollie?”
Ollie flinches when Samuels steps closer to him. “Why do you keep saying my name like you know me?”
“What do you mean? It’s me, baby. Will.”
Ollie’s eyes grow smaller and he steps back. “I don’t know you. I just want to go home to my family, okay? To my mom and Lana.”
Samuels’s face falters and he lets out a shaky breath. “You don’t know what happened? You . . . Of course you don’t. You’ve been gone so long.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m so sorry, Ollie. Fuck, I’m sorry. I tried to get there on time. I was too late. I failed you. I failed them.” Samuels scrubs a hand over his face and paramedics run toward me, asking if I can walk. As they guide me out of the room, the two voices behind me get difficult to hear, but the sharp cry coming from Ollie is hard to miss. I’m guessing he was informed of news he didn’t want to hear regarding his family.
My heart pains, my throat forming knots. They lied to him, didn’t they? They already killed his family and made him believe their lives could be saved if he did everything they told himto. More wretched sounds vibrate around me as Ollie fights against the men pulling him toward a cop car. Detective Samuels struggles not to follow him, the hurt in his eyes palpable as he turns toward me.
“Mr. Pena,” he says as he gets close enough to where I’m being seated in an ambulance. “I have some more questions for you but they can wait until tomorrow. We found all the evidence we need to match your story. Emails, messages, and fingerprints. I don’t know how I could have been so blind.” His mouth closes and he swallows hard before opening it again. “I worked right next to that asshole for two years and he knew . . .” He sucks in a breath. “He promised to help me find Oliver when all this time he was the one . . . It doesn’t matter now. I can’t change what’s happened, but I can make sure we get everyone else responsible, and that Ollie stays safe.”
“Stacey she . . . she tried to kill Silas. I don’t know if he’s okay or not.”
His eyes lift. “So he wasn’t part of this?”
I shake my head, no longer having doubts in my heart. I believe him. The truth was clear in his eyes and voice. Stacey was willing to kill him herself if he tried to leave her. The woman was sick. She’s dead now and I don’t know how he’ll take it. I don’t know if he’s okay. I left him there at the hospital not knowing his condition. He was alive, but alive doesn’t mean okay.
“No,” I finally answer. “She planned to lie to him. To blame it on me. She . . . Silas and I were seeing each other. We met at the flower shop, months after the accident, and one thing led to another.”
“You’re saying you didn’t know his wife worked for your husband.”
I pause, gathering my thoughts. “I knew his name, but I didn’t connect it all until after it came up in conversation when we ran into each other at the lake. I know this sounds crazy but we hadthis immediate connection I can’t explain. I know how this looks and it’s not . . . Honestly, I’m not even sure what it was.” More than I can explain, and as much as I don’t want to want him, I do. I can’t stop thinking about where and how he is. Wondering if he hates me, or if he will after he knows what all happened—that I killed Stacey. I don’t know what it means that I still want him. What kind of person it makes me. It’s fucked up, isn’t it?
Samuels stares deeper into my eyes, studying me for a long time before speaking again. “We can discuss more about the relationship you two had tomorrow. Get some rest tonight and be ready for a visit from me first thing in the morning.” His tired eyes drift away from me and back to the police car holding Oliver. He has more important matters on his mind. I know the feeling. There’s only one place he wants to be right now and I have somewhere I need to be too.
Samuels says something to the paramedics before returning to the scene of the crime. I’m rolled into the back of the truck, and once strapped in, the door closes and we start moving forward.
“What hospital are we going to?” I turn my face to the man sitting next to me who’s wrapping a cuff around my arm.
“St. David’s, two blocks from here.” The same hospital Silas is at. I won’t have to wait as long as I thought to know if he’s okay. That’s all I need. Once I know he’s okay, we can go back to parting ways. Not because I blame him but because it’s what’s right. What’s logical. My husband’s dead because of him. No, he didn’t kill him himself, but Silas is the reason he’s dead and always will be. How can I keep seeing the man who’s only alive because my husband isn’t?
Weighed down by exhaustion, my thoughts begin to fade with the light above me and I let the rocking of the driving truck lull me to sleep, wanting to delay myself from having to make more hard decisions.
Thirty-one
Silas
Throat dry and eyes stinging, I slowly lift my lids. Sunlight shines brightly through the windows, causing me to squint, and I groan when I turn my head too fast.
“He’s awake,” a woman’s voice says. I search the room, gaze landing on someone wearing blue scrubs. The nurse slowly approaches me, green eyes softening the closer she gets.
“Hey there. How you feeling?”
I try to speak but not much comes out, my throat screaming in protest each time I try to push words out. “Water,” I finally say, barely able to understand myself.
Reaching for a small table nearby, she lifts a pitcher and fills a cup. Smiling gently, she hands me the water and adjusts my bed to where I’m in a more upright position. Everything hurts. I’ve been lying in this bed too long, and I don’t know when they took the breathing tube out but my throat still feels like it has something lodged inside.
My hand trembles as I bring the cup to my mouth, and cool water falls over my tongue, relieving some of the ache in my throat. I drink fast, the taste of the paper cup remaining on my lips as I press them together to gulp the last bit down.
