T. Leigh - A Tragic Wreck

“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.

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.

Upon closer inspection, he realized that the boxes contained items from Olivia’s past. His father had erased her life, but kept everything in those boxes.

Alexander grabbed a box and lifted the lid. He gasped. “Mr. Bear.”

“NOW, OLIVIA, WHAT IS it about Alexander’s declaration of love that scares you?” Dr. Greenstein asked.

“What makes you think I’m scared?” she responded as she glanced out the window. It was a dismal Tuesday in March. There was a mixed precipitation falling. Olivia hated that type of weather. It made her angry. Either snow or rain, but don’t do this in the middle bullshit. It seemed that everything irritated her lately. Well, at least since she ran from Alexander Sunday morning after he said the three words that scared her most.

“Well, it’s fairly obvious, isn’t it? You’re trying to find some excuse to not have to say those words back. Olivia, do you remember the last person you said ‘I love you’ to?”

Olivia searched her brain for a memory of saying those words. She was coming up short. She couldn’t remember. It wasn’t the day of the crash. When her father had told her that he and her mother loved her, instead of responding in kind, she simply said, “I know”.

“I can’t remember,” she said quietly.

“Olivia, I want to try something.” Dr. Greenstein got up and pushed a button, causing the blinds to drop on the windows, shielding all the light from the room except for a dim lamp on the desk. “I want you to lie down and close your eyes.”

Olivia looked at the doctor like she was crazy.

“Please, Olivia. Humor me.”

“Fine,” she exhaled as she lay down.

“Now, I want you to just breathe for a little bit. Inhale and exhale.” Dr. Greenstein’s voice had changed to a soft singing-type sound.

“Just keep breathing and focus on that alone. Shut the rest of the world out. Forget about everything. It’s just you and me, okay? Inhale. Exhale.” Olivia relaxed, listening to the doctor’s gentle voice.

“Now, let’s go back for a minute. What do you remember about growing up? Before the crash, what memory stands out?”