I’d acted as if I had the worst deal just because he’d lied and tied me up and carried me unconscious into the woods.
He was facing prison.
His life was threatened thanks to a mob of enraged people.
His daughter had a high possibility of growing up without having him as her father.
Oh, God.
What had I been thinking?
Me: Thanks for being a good friend, Justin. He’s lucky to have you. I haven’t exactly been there for him lately.
Justin: Yeah, he’s been pretty low ever since I loaned him my car and offered to babysit so he could come talk to you. He didn’t tell me what happened between you guys, but I’m guessing it wasn’t anything good.
I didn’t know how to respond. Admit that I’d forced him to find closure through sex or pretend things were a work-in-progress?
Before I could fib or confess, Justin messaged again.
Justin: O...I have another piece of news that I don’t know how to tell you. I’m not expecting anything. I’m not asking for something you can’t give it. I’m just...telling you.
I went ice cold.
Me: What is it?
Justin: Gil sold his warehouse to pay the blackmail on Olive a few months ago. He’s been renting it back from the new owner ever since.
I waited for him to continue, terrified of the conclusion.
Justin: The owner has just given Gil notice. With all the shit happening online, he doesn’t want a murderer living there. He’s given him five days to move out.
Me: Oh, no.
Oh, God.
Justin: I’ve offered him to move in with me, but Olive hasn’t gotten over what happened last week. She’s relapsing. Doesn’t want to be near other men apart from Gil. I know he’d never ask this himself but...is there any way you can put them up for a night or two? While I figure something out? Gil has to stay in Birmingham so he doesn’t void his bail agreement—he already got in trouble going to see you. If they think he’s a flight risk, they’ll revoke his bail, and Olive isn’t ready to cope with that shit.
I sat frozen in my chair.
Why hadn’t Gil told me he’d get in trouble for visiting me?
Why had he put his freedom on the line, knowing there’d be repercussions when the cops figured out he’d left his home?
I stared at my phone.
My blood raced in my veins.
The last time Gil had stayed the night in my apartment, we’d been in a much better place than our current one. Even with his secrets, I could handle him being near. We’d had Thai and I’d woken to him talking to his uncle, agreeing to yet another blackmail to protect Olive. He’d unsettled and confused me but at least we’d been civil.
I’d gladly let Olive stay again.
She’d been a perfect little house guest but my apartment was too small for the three of us.
Far too small for the tension and complications that would curdle.
You don’t have a choice.
Could you honestly turn him away when the entire world is turning its back on him?
Olive was too important and sweet to let her suffer.
And Gil...well, Gil was also far too important.
I was fighting an unwinnable battle. I was lying to myself and only causing pain.
I couldn’t abandon Gil while he faced incarceration. Just like I couldn’t abandon Olive.
I should’ve known I could never be so self-centred not to put anyone else first.
I can’t leave.
Not yet.
No matter how much I needed to.
Once I knew how his trial went, maybe then I’d be free to move on.
Once I knew Olive was safe, hopefully then I could leave and never look back.
Until that happened, I was stuck in limbo.
We all were.
Me: Of course. Goes without saying.
Justin: You’re a saint, Olin Moss. I know how hard this is going to be for you. I also know how worthless Gil is going to feel being such an imposition.
Me: It’s fine. We’ll work it out.
Somehow.
Justin: I wish it could’ve been different for you guys. I really do.
Tears rushed up my spine.
Yeah...me too.
Justin: I’ll help him pack and see you in a couple of days with your new tenants.
Chapter Nineteen
______________________________
Gil
“I CAN’T FUCKING move into her space, Miller. Goddammit, stop trying to be a fairy fucking godmother. I can figure this shit out on my own.”
“First, I’m a godfather, not a mother. And second, excuse me for doing what any good godfather would do and think of Olive’s livelihood instead of her stubborn mule of a relative.”
“You’re taking your role as her guardian far too fucking seriously.”
His face tensed. He marched closer so Olive, who was packing the final things into her backpack in her room, didn’t overhear. “Aren’t you glad about that? I didn’t ask to be a dad, Clark. But you assigned that possibility to me and then went and got arrested. For murder.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t know how it’s going to work. She tolerates me, but she’s still uncomfortable around me. She had that crazy meltdown that’s left me totally wary of what other crap might happen. And if you’re called to trial tomorrow, what then, huh? Isn’t her protection better than your sorry excuses of why you can’t couch surf at O’s for a few days?”
I rubbed my face, wanting to punch him but knowing he was right. “I can’t impose—”
“It’s either my place or O’s. Unless you have some money you want to tell me about and you’re planning on staying at the four fucking seasons?”
My temper blazed. “You’re really getting on my nerves, Miller.”
“Yeah, well. You too.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry my shitty life is ruining yours. I didn’t ask you to take over. I’m perfectly capable of arranging accommodation for myself and my daughter. I’ve done it many times before you barged in.”
Justin crossed his arms. “Yeah, but have you done it while healing from a bullet wound, suffering a mild concussion from being beaten up, and an anklet that reports your every fucking move to the cops?”
I froze, breathing hard.
He had a point.
I’d had a visit the morning after sleeping with O from two uniforms. They’d given me a warning: leave a pre-approved location again and my freedom would be replaced with bars until I faced court.
After dealing with a broken heart from O kicking me out, worry over Olive breaking down just because Justin had babysat, and now being served notice that my home had been snatched away...I didn’t know what problem to tackle first.
I wanted to see O. I needed to see her. But I’d been blocked from visiting. A phone call or text wouldn’t cut it. I didn’t know how to say what I needed to without seeing her face. And now, Justin expected clearance from the cops for me to couch surf and Olive’s mental health to cope with being homeless, all while the goddamn bruises on my body reminded me all over again that I sucked at life.
I rubbed my face, trying to get my anger under control. “Look, I’ll figure something out. You’re not responsible for us. Just let me deal with this.”
Justin rolled his eyes. “Do you honestly expect me to just let you be kicked out onto the street?” His voice lowered. “Come on, mate. Don’t be such a stubborn ass. Let me help.”