Page 40 of He Is Ours (Lovers in Crossfire #2)

Chapter forty

Rachel

Olivia

and

Alex

are

at work, and I am stuck at fucking home alone. Since the incident with the pictures and flowers, Alex doesn’t want me at the office. I have been in the office all day, trying to figure out my cases, but my mind keeps wandering back to what Alex said last night.

Sam is still alive, and he's going to be at my house. My mind continues to swirl.

What am I going to ask him? What do they want with me? Why do they work with the Italians? Fuck. This is going to be a mess. I am just hoping that I am the one causing the mess and not Sam, making a mess of my brain splattered against the floor.

A knock on the door startles me out of my spiral. I walk over and open the door. Oliver is smiling at me, holding Sam's legs, and an Italian guy is behind Oliver, holding Sam’s upper body. I wonder if this is the dude Olivia mentioned.

"Who's Mister Macho behind you?" I jerk my chin to the Italian.

"Alessio, he is helping me," he says. I open the door wider to let them in.

"Go through the kitchen, and the door to the right is the basement." I give instructions as they walk through the house with an unconscious Sam.

"Where is Olivia?" Oliver yells over his shoulder as he walks toward the kitchen.

"Work. Why?" Oliver freezes at my reply. He turns his head and looks at me.

"She is still working in the gang unit?" His question is laced with concern.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because she is kinda engaged to the man who will become the drug lord. That's going to be a pain in the ass to explain to her boss."

I shrug because this whole relationship we have is kind of a mess, but it’s our mess.

"I mean, I am a lawyer who has killed people and am also engaged to a future drug lord, and my future brother-in-law is the future Don of the Irish mafia.

.. I don't think any of this is how it's supposed to be, but we are just rolling with it at this point. "

He nods and continues down the stairs to the basement.

When they reach the bottom, I flip the light on, and there is an old, rusty metal chair covered in bloodstains in the center of the room, a metal table against the wall, and on the wall is a D hook and a chain.

It reeks of rust and mildew, but I guess it's meant for torture and holding people hostage, so no point in making it smell like flowers and sunshine.

"Just tie him to the chair, I'll wait until Alex gets home to deal with him.

I really don't need to be facing him alone, or we might not get any answers, but he will be dead before anyone can question him.

" I turn to walk back upstairs, hearing the grunts of the men doing the work that needs to be done.

I am not in the mood to deal with Sam today.

I am sitting at the table when Oliver and Alessio come back up from the basement. They sit down in front of me.

"What's up? You seem lost." My nose scrunches up, and I look at him with a questionable gaze.

"I just have a lot on my mind. To start, how the fuck are we going to have a three-person wedding?

That's not even legal in the state of California.

Then I have my ex-fiancé's brother in my basement, tied up to a chair.

My soon-to-be brother-in-law apparently just made friends with the Italians.

" I look to Alessio, "no offense, but I don't trust you.

" Alessio shrugs. He must be a man of few words.

Oliver grabs my hands from across the table and looks at me with complete seriousness.

"First off, the wedding, we will figure it out.

Do you want it big or small? Those details can be worked out, and we can figure out how to marry all three of you.

I know that there is no other option for any of you.

Now, on to Sam being in your basement. The reason we brought him here is so you get answers.

If you don't want him in the house, I will kill him now and get him out of here; it's not an issue for me.

The last one is Alessio. Like I said, we have known each other for a while now.

I met him when my dad and I went to Italy when I was sixteen, to meet with his dad. "

I see Oliver shift in his seat, and Alessio looks at him with want and longing in his eyes. Hmmm, just friends? Sure Oliver... I'm going to put a pin in this and question the fuck out of him later.

"Got it. Sorry, I associate the Italians with Andrew, and I'm not okay with anything to do with Andrew. I ended his ass for a reason, and I don't plan on ending up back in any stupid situation like that again." My head falls into my hands, and I let out a huge sigh.

Oliver stands up, walks around the table, and pulls me up to my feet. I fall into his embrace and let his warmth engulf me, and that's when the first tear falls. I wipe it away as fast as I can so no one notices, but it's too late for that.

"What's wrong? How can I help? My sister will kill me if she comes home and her fiancé is having a breakdown, and I refuse to deal with her wrath when she is pregnant." Oliver lifts my face to look at him.

"I can't. I can't keep doing this.” My voice cracks, and I don't even try to hold it together anymore.

“Every time someone brings up Andrew or his brothers, my chest tightens and I can’t breathe. I live with this constant fear that it will come for me and hurt my family in the process. And now on top of all of that, I have to plan a fucking wedding!”

I let out a bitter laugh, but it died in my throat.

“I don’t know how to plan a fucking wedding. I don't even know how to survive the next five minutes.”

My hands start to tremble, and my chest heaves. The room starts to spin, and I grasp for the edge of the table, the wall, anything I can get my hands on.

My lungs lock up, allowing nothing to get in, and my throat starts to close. Suddenly, my air is gone.

My heart slams against my ribs like it’s trying to break free, and my vision goes glassy. Black dots burst in the corners of my eyes. I blink hard to try to get them to go away, but everything is slipping out of focus.

Everything is too loud, too bright, and too fast.

I can’t stop my body from shaking, and my knees buckle, but strong arms keep me upright, as the world begins to fade.

I hear Oliver's voice over the darkness. He sounds desperate, his voice echoing from the distance I can't seem to reach.

“Hey. Rachel. Look at me. Breathe. Please breathe.”

But I’m gone.