The Billionaire Switch

Oscar - The Letter

"Let go of me," I said, wrenching my arm free of the woman's grip. 

She turned to me, light playing in her eyes. "You're lucky you're not dead right now."

I stepped away from her, my mouth dry. "What do you mean?"

"Like it or not, that girl saved your life, which, unfortunately for you, means that I now have two targets instead of one."

The color drained from my face. "What?"

"You heard me," she said with a wicked grin. 

I kept on backing away from her, straight into a wall. "You did this?" I asked. 

She didn't reply, but I already knew the truth. 

"Turn me back!" I shouted. 

She chuckled. "You won't be turning back unless if you're dead. I always let the dead rest in their own bodies."

"No, you can't touch me," I said. "You're just an old woman." But even as I stared, her body seemed to shift to match a different age, different person, different strengths and weaknesses. 

"Boy, you have no idea who I am." She crept closer. "I just wanted to let you know, you have few days left to live, and that it is you and only you at fault that another innocent life will be taken."

My lips parted in surprise. "What do you want? I can give you anything."

"Silly, child. You don't understand a single thing, do you? It's not about me needing something like cash or power. I need revenge."

"Please, what do you want? Please, let me live," I begged. 

"I want you to die," she hissed, walking towards me, making me scurry backwards and fall on my ass. Instead of stooping near me to whisper more threats, she walked out of the room and towards the elevator down. 

"I'll be in contact," she said as her heels clipped on the floor. 

I stared at the wall ahead of me, waiting for her to fully be gone. 

"Anne?" a tentative voice asked from another room. 

I glanced up to see Jamie walking over. He offered me a hand to get up, studying me as if he could see past everything. "Oscar said he wanted you to leave," he said. 

"Oscar doesn't have an assistant," I replied, as if my brain couldn't think of anything else to say. 

Jamie studied me, then helped me up. "You don't know anything."

I could hear my blood pounding in my ears as I debated telling Jamie the truth. What loss would there be? Except, what if the woman would find out and also decide he needed to be disposed of. "Please, don't let her in again," I said. "She wants to kill me... Er, Oscar and I."

"I know. I heard what she told you," he said. 

My face paled. "Oh."

"Mind explaining?" he asked. 

I shook my head. I couldn't explain this. It would put Jamie in danger, and I wouldn't have that. "Just trust me," I said instead. "You don't want her around."

"Tell me what is happening," Jamie asked. "You're acting strange and so is Oscar. This isn't normal."

I shrugged, but inwardly, I rolled my eyes. Someone give the man the captain obvious award. 

"Anne?"

I looked up and met his eyes, and I felt as if I was being seen through. Like Jamie could tell the truth with just a look. But how could he? This wasn't possible. It wasn't even logical.

"If you're not going to talk to me, then you can leave. Oscar doesn't want you here, and frankly, I don't either."

"If you kick me out, I'll die," I cried, eyes wide in fear. 

Jamie wrinkled his nose. "Or, perhaps, all of that was staged."

"Jamie, please, listen to me. I don't want to die."

"That woman herself said you had a few days left to live. I doubt you want to spend them here, holed up in this apartment."

"Please."

He gave me an expressionless look. "Leave."

"At least let me give An-Oscar a note."

Jamie looked exasperated, but he shrugged. "Whatever."

I went over to the other room, grabbing some out of the printer like I always did, despite there being sticky notes around. I went to the exact spot I kept my favorite pencil, which Jamie himself had given to me in elementary school, then began to write. I realized midway through that Jamie surely had noticed this. When I looked back at him, he looked partially horrified. 

I tried to ignore it, writing out a quick note, begging Anne to work something out. I wrote how both of our lives were in danger, and that I wasn't making it up. 

If you don't help me with this, we will both die, I wrote. I shuddered as my hand moved to the next line. I'll meet you at the coffee shop when you regularly come tomorrow morning. 

I set down the pencil, about to fold it over. Then I picked it up again. 

Please, Oscar. I know you hate me, but surely you don't want me to die. 

At least come if you don't want to die. 

Please, Anne. 

-O

I folded it over, stuffing it in an envelope and licking the seal shut. I handed it to Jamie. "Looking through other people's mail is illegal. Remember that."

His eyes widened, as he took the outstretched envelope, and I realized this was only a variation of a line I had used time and time again. He knew it. He had to know me. 

"I'm not making a habit of looking through other people's mail," he deadpanned, snatching the letter away. 

"You'll give it to Oscar, right?"

Jamie shrugged, but when he saw the look on my face, his gaze softened. "I'll consider it."

I smiled to myself, recognizing that line for what it was: a yes.