Alexis

“Where are we going, Oliver?” I ask when it becomes obvious that we aren’t going to his home. We have been driving for over an hour and I can’t help but notice his cell has been ringing nonstop.

“We are going to a safe house.”

“Who keeps calling you?”

“Who do you think?” he answers, and I know it’s either Alex or Frank. I am sure they have found out about Chance being killed at my house and Oliver calling in sick for me today.

“Do you think they are pissed at you?” I ask, and he nods.

“I am sure they are.”

“Will they kill you?” I ask.

“No, they won’t Alexis. They will yell at me, but I am following the code.”

“What code?” I ask, and he turns back to look at the road.

“We take care of family, Alexis. No matter what. Once I tell them that I got to you immediately and got you out of town they will understand,” Oliver tells me as he grips the steering wheel. I watch as his knuckles go white from gripping the steering wheel so hard and wonder what has him so tense?

I don’t question Oliver more as I stare at the ringing phone. Once the ringing stops, I turn the phone off and lay my face against the cold window thinking about Chance.

I wake up as Oliver is pulling into the driveway of a two-story home that has a white picket fence. The house is white with black shutters and has a perfectly mowed lawn and I also notice a swing set in the backyard. My eyes widen as I get out of the car and look between Oliver and the swing set.

“It’s a safe house, Alexis. The swing set was here when I moved in and I just didn’t have the heart to remove it,” he tells me as he puts his hand on my lower back and escorts me into the house.

“I didn’t think anyone in the mob had a heart,” I comment.

“We have hearts, Alexis. It’s why we do what we do. We take care of family and our community. Look at the fucking government, they don’t care about anyone but themselves. They are the heartless ones. We do what we do, to give to people. They do it to take from them,” Oliver says to me and for a few minutes I understand what he’s saying, and I nod.

“How long do we have to stay here?” I ask, and he lifts his shoulders.

“I don’t know. Alexis… Whoever killed Chance wasn’t after him. They were after you.”

“What? Why would anyone want to kill me?” I whisper, and Oliver doesn’t answer.

“We’ll figure it out. Until we do, you will stay here.” I notice he says I will stay here, not we. I don’t want to stay in Mayberry by myself. My home is in Chicago with taxis and noise. We have been here for twenty minutes and I haven’t heard a damn thing.

“Are you not staying here with me?” I whimpered, and Oliver looks past me.

“I will stay tonight and will come back to check on you, but no I won’t be staying.”

“You can’t leave me by myself, Oliver! You just said someone is after me!” I plead, and he rubs his head considering my words.

“Trust me no one will find you here. If you are worried I can have someone watch the house.”

“NO! I don’t want someone watching the house, I want you to stay with me.” I beg, and Oliver’s eyes widen.

“I already told you, Alexis…”

“You work for Alex and Frank, right?” I ask cutting him off and his eyes narrow on me.

“Yes,” he says slowly almost questioning where I am going with this.

“If you work for the Delucas and I am a Deluca, wouldn’t you have to listen to me and stay as I ask?”

Oliver starts to laugh and shakes his head at me

“That is not how it works, Alexis,” he tells me as he walks towards the kitchen and I follow him.

“What if I call Frank and demand he let you stay here with me for my own protection?” I ask, and Oliver turns towards me suddenly, almost making me bump into him.

“I can promise you, Alexis, if you called Frank or Alex the last thing they would do is request I stay in this damn house with you tonight.” We both back away before things get awkward. Oliver walks over to the fridge and slams it shut letting me know that he’ll have to run to the store to grab me a few things for a few days. I nod and before he leaves, he grabs his phone to call Frank.

They are on the phone for almost twenty minutes, but I have no idea what they are saying. Oliver is very good at hiding his side of the conversation. He only makes vague comments and not enough for me to figure out anything.

Once he hangs up, Oliver remains quiet and walks out of the house. I can only assume he is going to the grocery store, so I snoop around the house until he returns. The house has three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The closets are fully stocked with men and women clothing. There are even extra toothbrushes in the closet. I start to pull open the drawers and I find the normal t-shirts and socks. When I walk over to the nightstand I start to wonder if I should leave it closed. People always keep personal items in the nightstand.

I don’t follow my own gut instinct and when I open the drawer I find a gun. I slam the drawer shut and stand to walk out of the room, but I can’t move. I sit down on the bed and pull the drawer open again and glance at the gun. I pick it up and I look at it. I hold it and point towards the mirror looking at myself with it. I set the gun on the bed and turn back towards the nightstand and find a box of condoms. The box has already been opened. I wonder who Oliver has had in this house that he needed condoms with? I am tempted to count them to find out how many are missing, when I hear someone coming up the stairs.

I grab the gun and point towards the doorway and put my hand on the trigger. The minute the footsteps get closer I yell that I have a gun.

“If you have a gun, that means you snooped in places your ass shouldn’t have been looking!” Oliver yells as he slowly walks in with his hands held up.

I lower the gun and drop it on the bed as Oliver leans over to grab it.

“You didn’t have the safety off. I don’t know if I should be happy or worried.” He puts the gun back in the nightstand. Oliver ushers me out of the bedroom and back down the stairs. I see several bags of groceries, so we put everything away and I notice he has been quiet.

“You bought a lot of things. How long are you expecting to leave me here? A year?” I ask, and Oliver turns to look at me before pulling out one of the black bar stools and sitting at the black marbled island.

“I talked to Alex and Frank while I was gone. They decided it would be best for me to stay here with you. We’ll figure out who the hell tried to kill you and then we can both get back to Chicago.”

“Okay,” I tell him, not wanting to appear overly relieved.

“We just need to figure out who the hell you pissed off, Alexis.”