Page 8 of He Is Ours (Lovers in Crossfire #2)

Chapter eight

Olivia

I

wake

up

from

my nap, finally feeling more human. It’s been days since I have felt decent. I blink to adjust my eyes to the soft glow of the TV and glance over to see Oliver sprawled on the couch, eyes locked on an action movie.

“Hey, sorry I fell asleep,” I mumble, my voice still thick with sleep.

Oliver glances over, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t be sorry, sissy. You needed it. And as I told you, I’m here with you every step of the way.”

Before I can respond, his phone buzzes loudly on the coffee table. Oliver glances at the screen, and just for a second, something flickers across his face—hesitation, maybe even dread. Then he snatches it up, pressing it to his ear, and his body stiffens.

“Alex. What’s up?” Oliver’s voice booms through my tiny apartment, followed by a long pause. Too long. My stomach tightens, my anxiety creeping in like a slow poison, taking over my body.

“Yeah, I’ll be there…” Oliver’s voice is steady, but I don’t miss the flicker of concern in his blue-green eyes that match mine. Another silence stretches between him and Alex.

“She won’t just stay here. You know that,” he says, his tone firm. “Regardless of how confused she is with everything that happened, she won’t do that.”

What in the actual fuck are they talking about?

“Yeah. Okay. Mhm. Bye.”

Oliver hangs up, but before he can even lower his phone, I’m already glaring daggers at him.

“What the fuck is going on?” I demand my pulse, now a thunderous roar in my ears.

Oliver lifts his hands in surrender. “Okay. So before you freak out—”

“Before I freak out? That’s the worst fucking thing to say to someone before they freak out! Are you serious right now? Just spit it out, Oli!” I snap, my patience gone.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Alex and Rachel are outside the Silver Serpent. Andrew’s oldest brother, Tyler, accused Rachel of killing Andrew and pulled a gun on her.

Alex and Rachel barely got away, but they knew the Starr brothers would be coming after them.

And we don’t know who they’re bringing with them. ”

I clench my fists, my mind racing.

“Alex asked if I knew anyone in San Diego who could help with this situation. Lopez García and Alex aren’t on good terms, so his family isn’t gonna back him up.”

That stops me cold in my tracks.

If Lopez García isn’t helping Alex, then they aren’t aligned with him. So Alex wasn’t involved in my capture.

My breath catches. A part of me wants to believe it—desperately.

But another part, the one still raw and bleeding from the inside out, refuses to let go of the doubt.

Then why did he buy me? Why did he make it so dramatic?

Why didn’t he come for me sooner if he knew where I was the whole time? Was Rachel in on it as well?

I shove those thoughts aside. Answers can wait. Right now, Alex and Rachel need me, and I will be damned if another Starr brother hurts Rachel.

“Well, then let’s go get them,” I say, determination hardening my voice. “You make the calls and get Dad to work his sources. I'll get out of these pajamas and strap up.”

I don’t wait for his response when I turn on my heels and sprint to my closet, yanking off my pajamas as I go.

I mentally go through my checklist as I get dressed. Dark, form-fitting jeans—on.

Black shirt—on.

Tactical harness—strapped tight.

Two guns—holstered– loaded.

Leather jacket—slid over my shoulders.

Two more guns— holstered on the inside of my jeans—loaded.

Boots—secured.

Knives—slid inside their sheaths and strapped in.

I glance at myself in the mirror, my chest rising and falling with adrenaline. My fingers curl into fists.

No one threatens what’s mine, and I will make sure the whole world knows that!

Oliver and I pull up to the Silver Serpent. The parking lot is packed, forcing us to drive past it to the empty dirt lot in the back. Gravel crunches under the tires as Oliver parks and kills the engine of my Cadillac.

“Call Alex. Let him know where we are,” I say, scanning the area. “And where the hell are Dad’s guys?”

Oliver gives me a pointed look. “They’re my guys, too, Liv. I am Dad’s underboss.”

I freeze.

The words hit me harder than I expected, cutting through my focus like a blade.

I am Dad’s underboss.

This is the first time Oliver has admitted—flat-out—that he and Dad have been living the mafia life without me, keeping me out and excluding me from it.

My chest tightens, stinging more than I'd like to admit. But I shove it down. Rachel and Alex need me right now; I don’t have time to think about my feelings.

I force a nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Fine. Just tell me they’re coming.”

“They’re coming. Calm down, Liv.”

Just hearing those words makes something in me snap.

I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Calm down?”

Then the dam breaks, and I let it flow.

“CALM DOWN?” My voice erupts, raw and unfiltered, shaking the air between us.

“I was physically held captive and raped by the biggest drug lord in Southern fucking California and his right-hand man! Then they put me up for auction like I was cattle! I fucking lost the two loves of my fucking life! All because I don’t know who’s telling me the damn truth and who’s not!

And now? Now I find out you and Dad have been lying to me my entire fucking life about our family being the MAFIA!

And on top of all of that, dumbass, Andrew’s brothers are gunning for two of the most important people in my life.

So please, Oliver, please tell me to ‘calm the fuck down’ again!

Because I have every right to be pissed! Every fucking right not to be calm!”

I’m screaming, arms flailing, my entire body trembling with rage and exhaustion.

Oliver’s face drains of color. He looks like I just gutted him. And maybe, with my words, I did. He knows he fucked up.

“I’m sorry, Liv.” His voice is quieter now, softer. “That’s not what I meant. You have every reason to be angry, not to be calm. I just meant… trust me. I won’t let this fall apart. I swear to you.”

I flinch at his words, ‘trust me.’ The one statement I don’t know how to handle yet. His apology is genuine. I can hear it. Feel it.

But right now, my brain is everywhere, and I don’t know if I can trust anyone.

I sit in the Cadillac, gripping the edge of the seat so hard my knuckles ache. The glow of the casino lights flickers across the windshield, but I don’t see them. My mind is a storm, the kind that drowns reason and leaves nothing but raw, seething rage.

I know Rachel and Alex are watching me through the window. I can feel the weight of their stares, the tension stretching tight between us. I don’t look at them. If I do, I’ll break, and I can’t afford that. Not now. Not when everything inside me is still screaming.

Gravel crunches. Engines hum low, almost a growl, as four blacked-out Chevrolet Suburbans roll in beside us. My pulse, already frayed, tightens like a wire.

“Are these your guys?” I don’t take my eyes off the vehicles as I glance at Oliver.

He gives a slight nod.

Fucking great. Here goes nothing.