As I’m digging for my license, Oliver flips his license and a credit card onto the counter.
“Nebraska,” she says, picking it up and looking it over. “You’ve come a long way for your bride.”
If she only knew.
“She was worth every mile,” he says, grinning at me.
I go a little gooier.
By the time I finally find my license, she’s already got the paperwork out.
“If you could both take a minute to fill this out,” she says pushing some papers through the slot, “I’ll get a copy of your IDs.”
I pull the papers through and hand Oliver the sheet for his information, then start to work on mine.
“Shit,” Oliver says after a minute, glaring down at his form.
I glance at it and he’s got “Oliver Anthony Silva” written in block letters across the NAME blank, and nothing else.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have no clue what my address is. I need my license back to fill this out.” He stabs at the STATE blank on the form like it’s a venomous spider that just won’t die. “I give them my father on a silver fucking platter and they send me to fucking Nebraska.”
“Not for long,” I say, plucking the pen out of his hand before he shreds the form.
The clerk is back a second later, slipping our licenses back under the glass. I hand my form through and take Oliver’s license and finish filling out his.
“Did you complete the Florida State pre-marital class?” she asks.
“Oh … no, we didn’t,” I say. “Is that a problem?”
She shakes her head. “It only means you have a three-day waiting period before the license will be valid.” She sets my form aside and flips a booklet out of a rack behind her. “This is the Florida Family Law Handbook. You need to sign that you’ve read it before I can process your application. If you want to take a few minutes and do it now, I’ll hold your paperwork.”
Oliver scowls as he shoves his paper through the slot and grabs the booklet. “Go ahead and run the credit card.”
The whole Nebraska thing seems to have killed his mood.
He flips the booklet open and I look over the front page. “Wow, they don’t have much faith in marriage, do they?”
The first sentence says, “You’re getting married—hopefully for the rest of your life,” and the whole rest of the eight pages is all about what happens when you get divorced.
“I’m likely to die before you get sick of me, so I think we’re good,” Oliver says, closing the booklet. He signs the box that says he read, then shifts the paper to me.
“I wish you’d stop saying that,” I grumble, signing the paper.
“All set?” the clerk asks, pushing a credit card receipt through the slot to Oliver.
I slip the booklet and the paper back to her.
“The handbook is yours to keep,” she says brightly, as if she’s doing us a huge favor.
“Oh yay,” I mutter, creasing it down the middle and shoving it into my bag.
“Any judge, notary, or clergyman can marry you. You need to give him this license,” she says, holding up a certificate with our fake names on it. “He’ll return it directly to us once the deed is done and it’s all signed, and we’ll log it in.”
“Can we schedule a civil service here?” Oliver asks.
“You can,” she answers. “It’s a thirty-dollar fee and we schedule on a first come, first served basis.”
“I thought we’d do it on the beach at home,” I interject. “You know … with my family?”
“You already know this isn’t going to fly with Rob,” Oliver reminds me, his expression still sour.
“I’m not doing this without him, Oliver. He’s my brother.”
“Let me see what our first available is,” the clerk says, pounding on her computer keyboard. “Sometimes it takes a while to get an appointment. That may help make your decision.” She squints at the screen. “Well … you appear to be in luck. With your three-day waiting period, we can schedule as early as Friday, and it looks like we had a cancellation at eleven that day.” She looks up at us. “Do you want it?”
“Yes,” Oliver says at the same time as I say, “No, thank you.”
The clerk looks us over as we stare each other down. “You are aware that you’d need to supply two witnesses even if you do chose to marry here.”
“Let’s just schedule it, Cheetah. If we talk to Rob and it goes better than I anticipate, we can call this afternoon and cancel it. If not”—he shrugs—“then fuck Rob. Fuck all of it. We do it here, Friday.”
I look at the clerk, who’s looking back at me, waiting for an answer. “Fine.”
“Excellent.” She types our names into the computer. “We’ll charge you when you come in, and here’s your license.”
She pushes our marriage license through the slot and I take it and look it over.
Lee Davidson is marrying Oliver Silva. Two people who don’t even exist. My heart sinks, seeing the names in writing on an official document. It all somehow feels like a farce—like we’re scamming the whole world, God, and maybe even ourselves. Disappointment drags me down like an anchor and now it’s my buzz that’s fading.
We get in Oliver’s car and head back to the Target in Port Charlotte for my car. The marriage license sits in my lap, feeling heavier than it should for something that’s basically fake. “Maybe this is a mistake,” I tell the trees outside the passenger window, because I can’t look at Oliver. “Maybe none of us are allowed to have anything real anymore.”
He pulls to the shoulder so abruptly that my seatbelt locks. I spin to face him, eyes wide.
“You are the only real thing I have left.” His green eyes darken and his gaze cuts to the heart of me. “I’ve given up all the rest so I could have you. So don’t tell me this isn’t real, Lee. Nothing else is. Only this.”
I didn’t realize I was near tears until a fat, round one slips over my lashes and plops heavily onto the marriage license in my lap.
He doesn’t move to comfort me. We sit, crushed under the weight of his words for what feels like hours.
“I’m sorry,” I finally whisper.
He snatches the license out of my lap and waves it at me. “For this?”
I shake my head. “For getting so bogged down in the fake that I lost the real.” I slip the license out of his fingers. “I’m sorry for feeling like this was less because it’s not our real names on it.” I lean in slowly, but he sits ridged. “I’m sorry I’m not your wife already,” I whisper against his stubbled cheek.
All at once, the ice damn melts. He grabs my face between his hands and kisses me with all he is. “If the fucking state of Florida is going to make us wait three days to make this legal, then so be it, but nothing else is going to slow me down. I don’t give a fuck about Rob or anyone else. I am marrying you on Friday.”
I look down at the license as he pulls back onto the road. “Why did you pick Silva?”
He sucks the corner of his lower lips between his teeth in a self-conscious gesture that I never remember seeing before. “I thought it was something I could give back to you—something that mattered.” He shrugs. “Maybe a little piece of your mother.”
“This is why I love you,” I say again, settling into his side and resting my head on his shoulder.
***
We pick up my car and I pull up the driveway ahead of Oliver just before noon. Rob is seated on the porch, waiting. I’m not even out of the car before I see the lines etched in his face. He stands and paces to the top of the front steps.
I swing my door open to intercept Rob before Oliver’s even cut his engine. “Rob, you need to stay calm so we can talk about this.”
But then Oliver steps out.
Rob’s eyes lock on him in a death beam and his mouth falls open. “What the fuck?”
I rush toward Rob as he charges down the stairs. “Stop!” I say, planting a hand on his chest.
“Where did he come fro
m?”
“It’s a long story, Rob, but—”
“This is who you were with?” he asks, glaring down at me.
The front door opens and Ulie rushes out. “What’s going—” Her feet and voice both stall when she sees Oliver.
Grant and Sherm spill out behind her.
“Holy fuck,” Grant mutters. “Oliver Savoca, back from the dead. And here I thought zombies were only in the fucking movies.”
“Let’s just all sit down and talk about this,” I say, trying to defuse the atomic bomb that’s seconds from blowing my whole life into oblivion.
But then Ulie steps forward, staring at my hand. “Is that … ?” She trails off, her eyes wide.
I thought about taking Oliver’s ring off, but then decided it might help our cause with Rob if he knew we were serious. “It’s an engagement ring,” I say, holding my hand up. “Oliver and I are getting married.”
There’s general chaos and I step in front of Oliver as everyone rushes us, all with something to say. It’s Rob who gets my attention when he shoves me out of the way and lunges for Oliver.
“What’s your game, Savoca?” he says, shoving him.
I push in between them, plowing Rob back with both hands on his meaty chest. “I said stop, Rob!”
“There’s no game,” Oliver answers from behind me. “A dead man doesn’t have time for that shit. I need to focus on what matters with whatever time I have left.”
“He’s working with the Feds, Rob,” I say. “He’s in WITSEC.”
Rob splits a glance between Oliver and me. “What’s she talking about?”
“It’s true,” Oliver says, straightening his shirt. “I gave them the smoking gun. My father won’t be getting out in eight years. There might be some collateral damage in the Delgado camp.” He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Nothing I could do about that, but sorry anyway.”
Rob’s gaze fills with disdain. “You’re a fucking rat?” he spits.
Oliver holds his ground. “It was the only way.”
Rob’s face contorts into disgust. “Should have known you’d sell out your organization to save your own sorry ass.”
I glance at Oliver, because he’s the only one here who knows that’s basically what I did—sold out my father to save my siblings.
His eyes soften when they catch on mine. “I sold out my father to save all of us.”
Rob pushes past me and gets into Oliver’s face. “So you just painted a huge target on your forehead and now you want to drag my sister down with you? No fucking way.”
I yank his arm to bring his attention back to me. “You don’t get to make that decision, Rob. That’s my choice to make!”
His wrath turns on me. “Not if your choice puts the rest of us in the crosshairs.”
“I would never risk this family’s safety, Rob. You know that.”
He shakes his head slowly, his disillusioned gaze locked on mine. “I don’t know anything anymore. I sure as hell don’t know you. He did something to your head when you had him tied up in your room all that time.”
“Oliver and I were together for a year before we left Chicago, Rob. This isn’t a rash decision. He did what he did to get out from under his father, just like I did what—” I catch myself when I realize where my emotions were carrying me. I can’t tell Rob the truth about why we’re here. “He’s out, Rob. He’s with me now, so you’re going to have to get over yourself.”
“If he’s testifying, he’ll never be out. He’ll always be hunted. Which means if he’s here with us, so will we.”
“We’re a package deal,” I say, backing toward Oliver and taking his hand.
“You’re really willing to put your entire family in danger for him? You’re willing to risk Sherm’s safety?” he says, looking over his shoulder to where Sherm is curled into one of the wicker chairs, watching with terrified eyes.
“Of course not. We’re already being hunted. I don’t think him being here is going to change anything.”
“It’s not going to happen, Lee,” Rob says with a stiff shake of his head. “He can’t stay.”
“Please, Rob. I love you so much. This family is everything to me. But you can’t expect me to give up my only real chance at happiness for you. Think how you’d feel if I was asking you to give up Adri.”
His brown eyes darken, a storm passing through them. “You are! Savoca being here with us only increases our risk of exposure. We’ve barely been holding it together as it is.” He glares at Oliver. “After he took off, I’d kidded myself into thinking we could stay because I didn’t want to go, but him showing up here again … it’s all the proof I need that we’ll never be safe if he knows where we are.”
“Oliver and I will find somewhere away from here. You never need to see us if you don’t want to.” I glance at Oliver, then back to Rob. “He’d never betray us, Rob. You don’t have to go.”
His eyes widen then narrow as first surprise, then betrayal flash across his face. “You’d abandon the family? Sherm?”
Somewhere deep in my gut, a sucking wound opens. “Only if you force me to.”
There’s a long, strained silence while Rob holds Oliver locked in a glare meant to leave nothing but scorched earth. “Decide, Lee. It’s him or us.”
I stare into Rob’s eyes for a long minute, long enough to know he’s serious and I’m never going to convince him he’s wrong.
My eyes move from Rob to Grant to Ulie, who’s on the edge of tears, to Sherm, who’s sitting with his hands in his lap, staring at his knees. Just last night, Oliver was sure I’d choose my family over him. At the time, so was I. But as my gaze shifts back to Oliver, I know he’s my future, the one thing I can’t live without.
I move up the stairs on shaky legs and Grant surprises me by hugging me hard when I wrap my arms around him. “Take care of Sherm,” I tell him.
I feel his nod against my cheek. “You sure about this guy?” he asks low in my ear.
“I am.”
He pulls back and looks at me a long second. “What about what they did to Mom?”
My heart bleeds at the pain and bitterness in his voice. He’s never talked about her with me before. “He didn’t kill her, Grant.”
His eyes narrow. “But—”
“How many people has Papa killed?” I interrupt.
His gaze grows wary as he sees where I’m going.
“Should we be blamed for what he’s done? Is all that blood on our hands?”
His lips press into a line. “Just be careful, Sis.”
When he lets me go, I move to Ulie and pull her into a hug.
“Don’t go,” she whispers in my ear.
I draw away and wipe a tear from her cheek. “I wish it wasn’t a decision I had to make, but …” I glance over my shoulder at Oliver. “I love him, Ulie, with everything I am. I can’t live my whole life wondering what if, you know? I have to do this.”
She hugs me close again. “Come find us.” It’s barely a whisper.
“I’ll try.”
“Try hard,” she says, her voice hitching.
I let her go and find Sherm standing near the chair. “Hey, buddy. School starts next week. Don’t get in fights, do your homework, listen to your teacher, and it’s going to be awesome.”
“Are you going away?” he asks, studying his bare toes.
I nod, and there’s a second I can’t speak. “I love you all, but I love Oliver too.” I swallow. “We’re getting married, so it’s time for us to find our own house.”
His eyes flick to mine, then to his feet. “Will you come back to see us after you get married?”
I glance at Rob, whose face is set in a deep scowl. “I don’t know, buddy. I’ll try.” I pull him into a hug. “Do everything your brothers and Ulie say, okay? And don’t forget to feed Crash and Burn. I’m not going to be here to do it.”
When I back away, I look at all four of my siblings. “I love you guys so much.” It’s everything I can do to keep my voice from cracking
around the hot pulsing lump in the back of my throat. “Please, wherever you end up, if I can’t find you to tell you, always remember that. I’ll always love you.”
I turn and stagger a step, but Oliver steadies me with a strong arm around my waist. I’m able to contain the tears as we walk back to his car, but we’re not even to the end of the driveway before they come in a rush. I bend at the waist and brace my forehead against my knees as sobs wrench out of the deepest corners of my soul.
I’ll never see my family again.
Oliver’s hand is on my back as he drives, and the solid weight, the warmth of his skin, the strength I feel flowing through him, is the only thing that keeps me from bolting out the door and running back.
“The guy can be a total dick, but occasionally, he’s got a valid point,” he says. “If they’re going to be hunting me, we’re probably better off on our own. More mobile.”
I wipe my face on my skirt and lift my head. “I just never thought he’d do this. Not after everything.”
But Rob will never know everything. He has no idea what I did to save him from Papa.
Oliver smudges a tear off my cheek with his thumb. “He’s just trying to do what’s best for his family. You know all about that.”
It should make me angry that the man I just gave up my family for is defending my brother’s decision to throw me out, but it’s weirdly the opposite. “Why are you defending him? You hate him.”
“I can relate,” he says with a one-shouldered shrug. “It doesn’t mean I think he’s right, but I can see where he’s coming from.”
“Me too,” I say, rolling my head toward the window.
“So, what should we do between now and Friday?” he asks, weaving his fingers into mine as we cross the bridge onto the mainland.
I stare at the passing town without answering. I can’t even imagine a life without my family.
Chapter 23
Oliver
I never remember Lee looking more beautiful. Maybe it’s sorrow that softens all her hard lines—not that I don’t love the strength in those lines—but as she sleeps, all I can do is stare at the glow of her golden skin in the pink of the rising sun, mesmerized by the curve of her lips, the flare of her nose with her slow breaths, the way that long sandy hair is strewn across the pillow and spills onto the bed. Our bed.
Over the Line: On the Run Novel Page 21
