A Tragic Wreck

by T. K. Leigh

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  SELF-DESTRUCTION

  ALEXANDER REPEATEDLY PRESSED THE call button, willing another elevator to come quickly. After a few brief moments that felt like an eternity and still no elevator, he punched a code into the door leading to the stairwell and ran down twenty-five flights as fast as he could.

  At that moment, Olivia emerged onto the street, tears streaming down her face. How could she have been so stupid? She fell for his charm and alarmingly good looks. Why did he get so upset when the gossip magazines had picked up a story about their relationship? He didn’t appear to be upset when he posed for all those photos with Chelsea. There could only be one answer.

  Olivia didn’t know what she should do so she ran down the busy Boston streets, thankful that she had put on her sneakers when she got up that morning. She was rather chilly with just a t-shirt and jeans on, but she relished in the brisk March air, welcoming the coldness to dull the pain. Bolting down Atlantic Avenue, she quickly hailed a cab and gave the driver Kiera’s address. She couldn’t face going home. Not yet, anyway. As the cab pulled away, she almost thought she heard someone faintly yelling her name.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  “OLIVIA!” Alexander screamed again as he reached the street. He frantically searched for her, unable to locate her among the masses of people heading to watch the parade that morning. “What have I done?” he asked to no one in particular. He sobbed openly on the street, burying his face in his hands. He knew confessing his love would scare her, but she was about to walk out on him. Again. He thought that maybe, if she knew what she meant to him, she would come to her senses and see how irrational she was being.

  After several moments passed and Olivia did not return, he went back to his penthouse and immediately entered his study. He sat down at his desk, picking up the photo of the two of them on the day of their play wedding. He resolved right then and there that Olivia was a girl worth fighting for, and that was exactly what he planned on doing. He picked up the phone.

  “Carter,” he growled into it. “Find her.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  “Olivia? What’s wrong?” Kiera asked, answering her door. She looked at Olivia standing on her doorstep, shivering, tears flowing down her face.

  “Oh, Care Bear,” she sobbed as her friend pulled her into her arms, hugging and comforting her.

  “Come on. Let’s get you warmed up.”

  Olivia started sobbing harder, thinking about just a few days previously when she had been followed after her therapy session and Alexander had run down to the street after he received her message. He had said the same thing. Let’s get you warmed up. Olivia was fairly certain that she could find pieces of Alexander dotted throughout her entire existence.

  She walked into Kiera’s living room, sitting down on her couch and pulling a blanket around her shoulders. “Do you want some coffee, Libs?” Kiera asked, going into her kitchen and grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

  “Yes, please. Might as well make it an Irish coffee, though. I need the alcohol this morning.”

  Kiera grabbed a pod from a basket and put it in her one-cup brewer, adding some whiskey. She quickly returned with two steaming cups, sitting on her reading chair opposite the couch.

  A movement in the hallway caught Olivia’s eye. “Oh, Kiera. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come over. I didn’t realize you had company.” Olivia got up, ready to leave, when Mo appeared in the living room with just his t-shirt and boxers on.

  He walked over to where Kiera sat and planted an affectionate kiss on her forehead. “Morning.” Mo smiled.

  “Morning.” Kiera gazed into his dark eyes. Olivia stared, feeling slightly jealous of her two best friends.

  Mo tore his eyes away from Kiera, eyeing Olivia. “What’s wrong, Livvy? You don’t look too hot.”

  “Great. Thanks, Mo. You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself,” she sobbed out, heading toward the door.

  Kiera grabbed a box of tissues and extended her arm. “Libs, sit your ass back down. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Fine,” she said, stomping back to the couch, grabbing a tissue and blowing her nose.

  “Now, tell me what happened.”

  “Do you want me to leave, Livvy?” Mo asked, a look of concern on his face.

  “No. You can stay.”

  He sat down next to Olivia, placing his hand on her leg as a sign of comfort.

  “Okay, Libs. Spill it,” Kiera said, taking a sip of her coffee.

  “Alexander freaked out when I said that the gossip mags had gotten wind that he was involved with me. He said it was some bullshit reason of trying to protect me because everyone would be calling me and staking out my house now. But then it came to me. The reason he was freaking out is because he’s ashamed of me. He’s trying to hide me from all the other girls he’s obviously banging. So I went to leave, and he told me he loved me, that I’m the only girl for him, and that he’s been searching for me his whole life.” Olivia sobbed.

  “What did you say to that?” Kiera asked, knowing only too well what the answer probably was.

  “I told him there’s no way he could love me. It’s just too soon,” she responded quietly, visibly cringing in anticipation of her friends’ reactions.

  “Livvy,” Mo said. “You’ve been seeing each other since August. It’s almost April, for crying out loud. I’m not counting those few months that you pushed him away because that was just fucking stupid.”

  Olivia glared at him.

  Mo’s voice softened as he looked at his friend. “Love doesn’t have a start date. It doesn’t have a 'use by' date. It doesn’t have an expiration date.” He turned to look at Kiera, his affection for her obvious. “I should have told you years ago that I loved you, but I was too scared of your reaction.”

  Kiera blushed. “I love you, too, Jack.”

  Olivia had forgotten for a minute that everyone called him Jack. She stared at the two most important people in her life, wishing she could have what they had. She had that for a brief moment, but she couldn’t possibly love Alexander.

  “He’s definitely sleeping with other people. I just know it. Why would he be so worried about our relationship being public knowledge? It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

  “Sarah Olivia Adler!” Mo shouted. “Do you have any idea how unreasonable you sound right now?!”

  She shook her head and looked over at Kiera, hoping she would understand where Olivia was coming from. Kiera nodded her head, indicating that she agreed with Mo. Olivia mouthed traitor to her friend. Kiera shrugged.

  “He loves you and you’re finding any reason you possibly can to push him away. Come here.” Mo grabbed her arm and sat her down at the kitchen table in front of Kiera’s laptop. He punched Alexander’s name into the Google images search and clicked on a photo that Olivia hadn’t seen yet. It was taken the night before, but it wasn’t of the kiss. It was taken before the kiss. Olivia was up on stage singing. It looked like it was taken from the side of the stage. Alexander’s face was in focus and he simply gazed at Olivia as if she was the only thing in life worth living for, a sparkle in his eyes.

  “Look at that, Livvy,” he said, gesturing to the screen. “Can you honestly tell me that man does anything other than worship the ground you walk on? I see the way he looks at you. I’ve seen it the past several months. He would do anything for you, and you just walked out on the best fucking thing that has ever happened to you. AGAIN!” Mo’s voice was rising, his anger showing. He took several deep breaths as Olivia stared at him, wide-eyed. He had never raised his voice like that to her before. “I thought you got over all your self-destructive bullshit,” he said quietly.

  Olivia continued to stare at him, unsure of how to respond. “I’m sorry,” she apologized weakly.

  “It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” Mo stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Olivia shocked.

  She looked to Kiera sitting silently in the living room. “What
if I don’t love him?” she asked quietly.

  Kiera shrugged, not knowing how to respond to Mo’s outburst, either.

  Olivia grabbed her bags and walked out the front door, wanting to be alone for a minute to think. She didn’t get her wish. As she opened the door to hop in a cab, photographers were set up, snapping photos.

  “Shit. How the fuck did they find me here?” she mumbled. Immediately, a black SUV pulled up in front of Kiera’s house. “Of course.” Carter and Marshall both exited the vehicle, Carter getting rid of the photographers as Marshall tried to get Olivia into the car.

  “No, thank you. I don’t need a ride. I can walk, thank you very much.”

  “Ma’am, please. It’s for your safety,” Marshall pleaded.

  Olivia looked back at Carter who had successfully gotten rid of the photographers. “I’d rather walk.”

  “Well, we’ll still be escorting you home, whether you’re in the car or not.” Marshall went to speak with Carter as Olivia stood there, glaring at both of them. After a few moments, Marshall returned. “I’ll walk with you, but Carter wants you to take his jacket. He says he’ll lose his job if anything happens to you, including getting sick because you’re too fucking stubborn to get in the car.” Olivia looked at Marshall, shocked. “His words, not mine, ma’am.”

  Olivia turned her head toward Carter, her mouth wide open. He handed Olivia his jacket and shrugged. If one more person shrugs at me today, I’m going to scream, she thought, stalking off onto Clarendon Street, Marshall close behind. Carter followed slowly behind them in the car. This is ridiculous. “I’m not a fucking child,” Olivia muttered under her breath.

  “Well, you certainly seem to be acting like one, ma’am,” Marshall said.

  Olivia stopped in her tracks and looked at her, her mouth wide open again.

  “With all due respect.”

  Olivia turned and continued to walk faster.

  Marshall’s cell phone rang loudly and Olivia groaned, knowing all too well who was on the other end. “Marshall,” she answered curtly. “Yes, sir… I understand sir… I’m sorry, sir, but we had to compromise… Yes, sir… One moment, sir…” She turned to Olivia. “It’s Mr. Burnham.” She held the phone out. “He would like to speak with you.”

  “I don’t want to talk to him right now,” Olivia spat out loudly so he could hear her.

  “DAMN IT, OLIVIA! START ACTING YOUR FUCKING AGE!” Alexander shouted through the phone. Olivia could picture him, sitting in his penthouse, pulling his hair with that exasperated look on his face. She wondered if he still had his shirt off, his chest heaving with deep breaths as he shouted. His delectable body… No, Libby. Focus, she reminded herself.

  She grabbed the phone. “I am acting my fucking age. How did you find me anyway, Alex?”

  “I tracked your cell phone, Olivia. You ran out with no security. Not very smart after what happened earlier this week,” he growled.

  “Stop following me! Or sending your minions to follow me!” She took a deep breath before lowering her voice. “I don’t need you to always try to fix things, Alex. Some things are just too broken.” He was silent on the other end, as was Olivia.

  He exhaled. “Olivia, love,” he sobbed quietly, breaking the awkward silence. His voice pained her heart. He was clearly upset. That was not the voice of a man who would hurt her.

  “Alex, please. I just need some space. Some time. I just…I just need to think.”

  “What is there to think about? This isn’t that complicated.”

  “Maybe not for you, but it is for me.”

  “Olivia, answer me this. And don’t think. Don’t let that brain of yours get in the way. Do. You. Love. Me?”

  She stood silent on the sidewalk, staring at cars crawling down the Boston Streets. Did she love him?

  “I can’t do this right now, Alex. Time. Please. Just give me time.”

  “I’ll wait the rest of my life for you, Olivia Adler. You’re the love of my fucking life. This doesn’t happen every day. I’ll give you the space you need. Just know that I will always wait for you.”

  Alexander heard a quiet sob on the other end of the phone. “Always, love,” he whispered before hanging up.

  Taking a deep breath, he opened his top desk drawer, finding the envelope that had plagued his conscience the past several years. He stared at the letter, unsure whether he really wanted to know what information it contained. Why should a simple piece of paper petrify him so much? But it did. Then again, if he wanted Olivia to get over her fear of love, he would have to face his own demons.

  He slid a finger underneath the seal and pulled out the faded piece of paper. As he read, his heart sank. It was so much worse than he ever imagined. Olivia’s dreams were right.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS

  DEAR ALEX,

  IF YOU’RE reading this letter, it means I’m dead. I knew this day would come eventually, but I’m just glad that it took over fifteen years to happen.

  First, I want to apologize to you for never being there when you were growing up. I know it wasn’t easy on you, and I’d like to say that I regret my actions, but there were circumstances involved that were out of my control.

  You see, son, Olivia never died in that crash. I’ve been keeping her hidden since she woke up in the hospital all those years ago. She didn’t remember anything so it was quite easy to manipulate her brain into believing whatever I told her. I couldn’t let anyone know she was still alive. I was the only one who knew who she really was.

  The reason I’m telling you this now is that someone, somehow, has found out that she never died in the crash and that I’ve been protecting her all these years. I don’t know how, but they know.

  Her life is in danger.

  Your Uncle Jack worked for the CIA as an analyst. About a month before the accident, your Aunt Marilyn came to me for help. Jack had uncovered some pretty heavy shit, pardon my French. He didn’t know who he could turn to for help. A lot of the key players were higher-ups in various government agencies, offices, and what have you.

  He discovered a ring of politicians that was accepting large kickbacks from shell corporations in exchange for distribution of U.S. military equipment and classified information. These shell corporations were, in fact, various terrorist organizations. Back then, we weren’t as organized as we try to be now when it comes to terrorist activity.

  Regardless, he had amassed a great deal of evidence and had begun to approach some of these traitors, asking them to come forward and turn themselves in. Well, instead of coming forward, they hired Jacob Kiddish, a well-known “cleaner”. Unfortunately, Kiddish had never gotten caught. Although he was suspected to be involved in disposing of threats to various politicians on more than one occasion, that was just speculation and nothing ever stuck. He ran a legitimate consulting business and no one ever connected the dots to him.

  Kiddish followed the DeLucas on that day in August all those years ago. It was him who ran their car off the road and into a tree. Olivia’s mother died on impact. When I ran to the car, she was already dead. You know now that Olivia survived, but so did her father. He is alive. He shot Jacob Kiddish that day. We put his body in the DeLuca’s car, knowing that it would blow up at any minute from the gas leak.

  The only reason I’m giving you this information is so that you continue to monitor both of these cases. Kiddish’s son is back at it. After his father “disappeared”, Mark Kiddish took over the consulting business, including the “cleaning” part of it. He had been working with his dad for years, so we knew that would happen.

  Someone out there knows that Olivia is still alive, but it does not appear that Jack’s identity has been compromised. These people have hired Mark to clean up the loose ends that his father left behind. My guess is it’s the same people who hired his father all those years ago. Part of me thinks they were never off this case.

  They think that Olivia knows where the incriminating documents are that
Jack left behind, hidden. This information could implicate hundreds of powerful people. Help her. Please. That way, my death wasn’t in vain. I beg you. Do the right thing.

  I’m proud of you, son. Carry on the business as I would have.

  Love,

  Dad

  Alexander looked at the letter. He had so many questions, but there was nobody to answer them. Then, something caught his eye. He grabbed the envelope and was able to make out script on the flap that was written in almost white ink. If the envelope wasn’t so faded, he never would have noticed it.

  There is a safe room installed in my office. You may have found that already. If not, go there. It will give you the rest of the information you’re looking for.

  His heart raced. Safe room? he thought to himself. “Fuck!” he shouted, knowing exactly what his father was referring to. Alexander always thought that the room contained company files from before its move to a paperless system. “Martin,” he spat into the phone. “Bring the car around. I need to go to the office immediately.”

  Within ten minutes, Alexander ascended the twenty-nine stories to his office. It was a Sunday so his non-essential office staff was not working, giving him plenty of privacy. He dashed down the hall, frantically punching the code into his office door. After swinging the door open, he ran to the bathroom, opening a small door on the far side of the tiled room.

  He looked down at the stairs, knowing that all the answers lay just below him. Taking a deep breath, he descended the flight of stairs. He ran into a large metal door and quickly punched in his code, worried that it wouldn’t work. He breathed a sigh of relief when the door beeped, allowing him access. The sight before his eyes was overwhelming.

  He entered the large reinforced steel room that seemed to take up the entire floor between the twenty-eighth and twenty-ninth story of the building. All along the walls, banker’s boxes were stacked high.