Burning Up

by Marie Coulson

  My cell buzzed again, and checking the caller I.D., I groaned. Jared was serious, he really wasn’t giving up and considering that he now knew exactly who I was with, was sure to only fuel his anger and determination.

  Groaning in frustration, I tossed the cell onto the dash and slammed my fists on the wheel of the car in anger. Ollie raised an eyebrow at me. The buzzing continued, and I was beginning to lose my cool. Grabbing it from where it was slowly moving across the car, Ollie rolled the window down and threw my cell out onto the road. I gasped in horror. “There, problem solved,” he said as if what he had just done were a simple, everyday occurrence.

  “I cannot believe you just did that! That was my phone!”

  “I’m aware of what it was. Calm down. People rely on their cell phones too much these days. Just for once, cut yourself some slack and detach your damn life from your cell. He can’t bother you if he can’t reach you.”

  Staring at him, I suddenly found myself laughing. I wasn’t sure if I was laughing from shock or Ollie’s carefree attitude. Smiling and looking at me out of the corner of his eye, Ollie chuckled. For the first time in a long time, I saw a glimpse of the Ollie I had fallen in love with. I’d missed him more than I’d realized, and now that I knew he was in there, I was more determined than ever to fix the broken heart I had shattered. But for now, a glimmer of hope was enough, and I would hold on to it for as long as I could. Ollie’s day was about to be complicated enough, and what he needed now was a friend.

  Chapter 24

  Caged Rage

  Walking through the cold and white-washed hallway of the prison entrance, I couldn’t help but stare at the other people around us. They all seemed so … normal. It’s not that I was expecting axe wielding maniacs or anything, but the man in a smart suit and the woman in her Sunday best all lining up to visit a loved one took me by surprise. Ollie shifted awkwardly on his feet as we waited to sign our names and be searched. Reaching for his hand, I held it in mine tightly and gave him a reassuring smile. He smiled back weakly but said nothing.

  A large man in a uniform was sitting at a desk beside a closed door. His eyes dragged up and down the both of us as we stood in front of him.

  “Name?”

  “Green. Oliver Green.”

  Handing the officer a letter, Ollie played his lip ring between his teeth. He might have tried to convince both of us that he wasn’t nervous, but as I watched him it was obvious that he felt uncomfortable being there. Scanning the letter briefly, the officer shot me a suspicious look.

  “And you are?”

  I cleared my throat loudly and looked at Ollie.

  “She’s with me. She’s family, too.”

  After checking our identification and searching us both until satisfied that we weren’t trying to smuggle anything into the place, we were escorted past the closed door and down the hall. Ollie gave me a confused look. Biting my lip anxiously, I asked the officer where we were going.

  “He’s in a private room. It’s standard procedure for those with medical conditions. He’s wired up to machines and drips, so don’t be alarmed by what you see.”

  As we stopped in front of a large iron door, Ollie gulped and noticeably stiffened. The officer noticed, too, and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

  “You okay, son? You need a few minutes?”

  Ollie glanced at me before shaking his head in a definitive and firm no.

  “No. Let’s just get this over with.”

  Unlocking the door and shoving it open with one hand; the officer gave us a quick nod and signaled for us to go in. Ollie’s hand was clutching mine, and as we rounded the door, my eyes fell on the man who had caused him a world of pain and destroyed his childhood. Sitting in a wheelchair with tubes up his nose, an IV in his arm, and looking utterly pitiful, Ollie’s father stared at us.

  Ollie’s expression was one I had never seen before. It wasn’t pity, anger, or even hate. It was something else … indifference. It was as though the man sitting before him were a simple houseplant, withering away.

  “Hello, Son.”

  Scowling, Ollie took a seat opposite him and pulled out another for me.

  “Don’t call me that. You don’t have the right.”

  Looking across the table at me, Ollie’s father smiled.

  “And who is this lovely young lady?”

  Ollie slammed his fist on the table and growled. “Don’t talk to her! This isn’t a fucking family reunion. I came here because my mother begged, and I needed something from her. That’s all. So lets just get this shit over with. What the fuck do you want, Frank?”

  So his father had a name. Frank.

  Taking long and raspy breaths, Ollie’s father nodded weakly.

  “I understand. I didn’t expect you to welcome me with open arms. But I needed to see you, Oliver. I had to make things right before I …”

  Crossing his arms and resting back in his seat, Ollie snapped at him. “Before you do us all a favor and croak?”

  I nudged his leg in warning. No matter what this man had done, death was nothing to be celebrated. “Ollie.”

  It earned me a raised eyebrow.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.” Frank seemed apprehensive about speaking to me, and noting Ollie’s glowering stare, I understood why.

  Ollie opened his mouth to respond, but I quickly shoved my hand over it and answered.

  “Layla. I’m Layla.”

  Frank’s smile grew wider. “A great song. Your father must be a Clapton fan. Good taste.”

  I returned his smile cautiously while glancing at Ollie out of the corner of my eye.

  “Get on with it, Frank. I don’t have all fucking day.” Ollie was getting more and more irritated by the second, and I could feel the tension in the room building. I hoped that officer was still outside as I wasn’t sure that this wouldn’t end in violence.

  Taking a deep breath, Frank leaned closer and stumbled over his words a little. He seemed nervous. “I need to apologize for what I did. You see, since I was told I was sick, I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about and making amends for my mistakes. I already spoke to your mother and your brother. The only one left is you. You were the one to suffer the most. I’m so sorry, Oliver.”

  Pushing away from the table, Ollie stood and leaned over the table, gripping the edge with such force I feared he might break it completely.

  “You’re sorry? You’re fucking sorry? Sorry for what? Sorry for the countless times you beat me for nothing at all? How you would throw me outside in the cold, rain, and dark at night in my shorts so that you could fuck hookers and whores? Sorry for the endless benders and booze filled days that I spent alone, trying to find something to eat from your trash can of take-out cartons? Or how about the scars? Huh? The scars you left me with when you carved your little message into my fucking flesh you sick asshole!”

  Lifting up his sleeve, Ollie flexed his arm and the broad lines of his snake tattoo quickly revealed the remains of a fading scar. The words ‘little prick’ were still visible, and seeing them brought tears to my eyes. He’d suffered so much at such a young age. Any sympathy I felt for Frank quickly disintegrated.

  Hanging his head, Frank sniffed, sniveled, and unbelievably, he began to cry.

  “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare fucking cry now you asshole! You don’t get to be the victim this time,” Ollie raged.

  Shaking his head as his body racked with sobs, Frank apologized over and over, repeating the same thing.

  “I’m sorry, Son. I should have been there for you. I should have protected you. I’m so sorry.”

  The door behind us swiftly opened, and two officers entered, scanning the three of us as they reached into their pockets, I assumed for a weapon of some form. Getting to my feet, I held my hands up defensively in front of my chest to assure them everything was fine. They eyed us skeptically.

  “Do we need to stay?”

  I shook my head. “No,
sorry. It just got a little heated in here. They have a lot of issues to air out.”

  Relaxing a little, but never taking their eyes off of Ollie and Frank, the two men retreated out of the room.

  “Any problems, hit the button under the table, miss.”

  I nodded in understanding before returning to my seat and letting out a long sigh.

  Ollie was standing in the corner of the bleak and grey room, staring out of the iron-clad window.

  Frank swiped at his eyes and looking over at his son, I could see the hurt and remorse.

  “I don’t expect you to forgive me, Oliver. But I cannot leave this world without telling you how sorry I am. I can’t begin to make it up to you, but I thought maybe, this would be a start.”

  Slowly rolling himself over to the door, Frank knocked weakly and spoke in hushed tones to the guard. A moment later, the door opened and holding a black case, the guard placed the item on the table before leaving us alone again.

  “I didn’t do much right for you as a child, but this may be the only thing I can possibly say I gave you to improve your life. You were six and I caught you playing air guitar in front of the radio. Your dark hair flailing all over the place, your mother would never let me cut the damn thing, and your hands were all over the place. I knew then that you were ready for your own guitar. Do you remember your birthday?”

  Ollie snorted. “You mean when mom bailed, you got drunk, and I ended up alone at the dinner table with a cookie and your empty bottles? One birthday was pretty much like the next, so forgive me for not being flooded with fond memories.”

  Frank let out a long and rueful sigh. “I know, I’m sorry.”

  Turning to face him, Ollie fumed. “Stop saying you’re sorry! It doesn’t mean anything! It’s too fucking late for sorry.”

  “I know, sorry is just a word and it can’t take away what I put you through, but I need you to have this, Oliver. It’s yours. It’s the only thing I ever kept each time I moved, got evicted, and came here. Please, open it.”

  Walking over to him slowly, I placed my hand on Ollie’s arm.

  “Ollie, just open it,” I whispered gently.

  He shook his head and gave me a stern look. “I don’t want a damn thing from him. Ever again.”

  I bit my lip anxiously and cast my eyes back at Frank who was staring at Ollie with a distinct look of hope. He was clutching at straws, but in his position, what else did he really have? Taking a deep breath, I tried to convince Ollie to take a chance on his old man. “You’ll regret it if you don’t. Remember how you told me music was your therapy? What’s in that bag, maybe it holds just one happy memory.”

  With a look of suspicion at his father, Ollie approached the black case on the table and held his breath. The atmosphere in the room was one of suspense but as he, pulled back the zipper, his expression softened and a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. His fingertips glided up and down the glistening and shining polish of a stunning acoustic guitar.

  “Kerri.”

  I gave him a confused look. Chuckling slightly, he winked at me. “Guys name things, cars, machines, and instruments. This was Kerri. She was my first.”

  I rolled my eyes and smiled. “She’s a lucky girl.”

  Lifting the guitar out of its case, he grasped the neck and strummed it gently. Frank’s eyes seemed to light up as he watched his son stroking and playing the only gift he had ever given him.

  “I want you to keep it.”

  Putting it down sharply, Ollie frowned. “It doesn’t mean I forgive you, and I’m not keeping it because you want me to. I’m keeping this, because when you were doing all that shit to me, this was the only thing that kept me sane. But …“

  He hesitated a moment before swallowing hard, as if trying not to choke on his words.

  “Thank you.”

  Maybe there was hope for the two of them to make peace after all, I thought.

  “For not selling it, trading it, or pawning it for booze money.”

  Maybe not.

  Frank nodded. “I deserve that. You may not believe me, Oliver, but I did and do love you.”

  Ollie snorted a sarcastic laugh, but Frank wasn’t deterred.

  “I mean, it, Oliver. I did, but every time I looked at you, heard your voice, or even thought about coming home to you, the hate I felt for your mother was more than I could stand. You made me angry beyond control, and it wasn’t even you I was mad it; it was her. Pissed that she left me, pissed that she left you, and pissed that you reminded me so much of her. You have her eyes, her smile, everything. She was my wife, and she abandoned me!”

  Storming across the room to his father, Ollie’s fists were clenched so hard that his knuckles turned a pale white. “Abandoned you? What about me? I was a fucking child! I needed her. I needed you, and you both let me down. I had to work shit out on my own. Protect myself, feed myself, and fucking raise myself! You took all your own fucking pain and dumped it on me. She left you because you were a no hope waster! She left me because she wanted the drugs that little bit more than she wanted her son. As a couple you were shitty and fucking dysfunctional. And as parents, you just sucked! Always fucking and fighting, accusing her of cheating and watching her every move. No wonder she fucking left!”

  I felt my stomach churn as I thought about my own dysfunctional relationship. Fucking, fighting, and chronic mistrust. It was a recipe for disaster and I was staring into the future of what that kind of relationship could do. The damage and destruction was painful to think about.

  “She did cheat! She got hooked on that stuff, packed up, and never looked back. Hell, if not for me dying, she would never have even tried to find you! I brought you back together. You need your family, no matter what you think. You hardly acknowledge your older brother.” Frank was trying to defend his actions? Was he serious? I watched the two of them as they yelled back and forth across the room.

  Ollie grunted. “Like he ever gave a shit either. He was just as screwed up as you. He bailed on me the second he could.”

  Frank began to hyperventilate and rushing over, I tried to calm him. I wasn’t ready to watch the man die!

  “Ollie! Calm down! For God’s sake he’s a sick, weak old man!”

  Kicking at the floor, Ollie ran his hands over his face. “I can’t do this. I promised I’d come; I came. I heard you out, and it doesn’t change anything. You don’t want me to forgive you; you want me to absolve you of your fucking sins. Well that’s between you and your maker. Answer to him, because as far as I’m concerned, you died a long time ago.”

  Picking up the guitar, Ollie shot me a penetrating look.

  “Are you coming or what?”

  I scowled at him. “You’re just going to leave like this? Ollie, this could be your last chance to speak to him.”

  Frank shook his head and tried to catch his breath. “It’s okay, Layla. I knew it was a long shot. I just wanted to see him one last time, to tell him I’m sorry and that I love him. I knew he would never forgive me. I don’t deserve it.”

  Marching over to Ollie, I shoved him on the chest forcefully. “This is your final chance, Oliver Green. Closure, a final goodbye. Do you really want it to be like this?”

  Something in him seemed to change, and for a moment I saw tears in his beautiful brown eyes. Turning to Frank, Ollie walked over, took his hand and held it in his in a halfhearted handshake.

  “I won’t forgive you. I can’t tell you I love you because it would be a lie. But for whatever little time you have left, you can at least live with the knowledge that I don’t hate you. I don’t feel anything for you. Goodbye, Dad. Thank you for the guitar.”

  Grasping Ollie’s hand firmly, Frank sniffed through his tears. “Goodbye, Son. I’m proud of the man you’ve become.”

  Turning on his heel, Ollie reached for my hand and clutched it, entwining our fingers as he knocked on the iron door. He never looked back. We walked hand in hand along the hallway, out of the building, and back to the car. He was dea
dly silent. As I opened the driver’s side door, Ollie still had his hand clasped in mine. Spinning me around, he gazed at me.

  “Thank you.”

  He leaned closer and placed a sweet and gentle kiss on my cheek before releasing my hand and tossing his guitar in the trunk. I stood, frozen, for a moment with my fingertips pressed to my cheek. I could still feel the warmth of his lips and the cool of his lip ring on my skin. It made me both hot and cold at the same time. I burned with out of control desire. I wanted to take all of his pain and wash it away. But most of all, I wanted him. My blood ran cold as I thought of the hurt and devastation I had caused him myself. He’d already had a lifetime of rejection, abandonment, and heartache. And there I was, topping the pile of assholes. Nice move, Layla. I had a lot of making up to do, and I was determined, one way or another. I would pick up the pieces of the shattered heart I had broken. I just hoped it wasn’t beyond repair, because one thing was for sure, I was not over Ollie.

  Chapter 26

  Walls

  In the weeks following our roadside confrontation, Ollie and I hardly saw, spoke, or even acknowledged each other. I wasn’t sure if he was avoiding me, or if I was avoiding him. But I missed him. Amy and Mel had begged me to come to the bar on countless occasions, but I wasn’t in the mood for uncomfortable silences and stolen glances across a table. I’d spent almost a month sitting in my house, staring at the TV and ignoring the countless messages accumulating on my new phone. Thankfully, the phone company swallowed my explanation that it had been stolen at a bar. A replacement was sent right away, but it also came with my same phone number which means the moment I switched it on, I was presented with over fifty calls, voice messages, and texts. Jared was desperate to see and speak with me, but I was still reeling from everything that happened. And to make it worse, someone in the media had gotten a hold of the damn Alicia story, and Jared was now the focus of a very public paternity scandal. My heart had almost shattered into a thousand pieces the day that newspaper landed on our doorstep. He’d sent me messages to warn me, but it didn’t prepare me at all for the circus that was unfolding.