I choose me.

Part 40: The future, derailed by the past

OLIVIA

" I really don't care if the walls are pale blue or pale violet cerulean." She brushed dust off of her desk, she was on speaker phone with the painter.

"Yes ma'am, Miss Sinclair said—" She was at the long end of a thirteen hour day, trapped in between the new distribution center and the PureSide shop, she was now in her dust filled office trying to wrap up the last few details before going home.

"With all do respect, I don't give a crap, surprise me." She hit the off button, signed a few papers and shoved them back in their manilla folders, then sent some e-mails and closed her computer.

It was late and dark, early for June, the unfinished parking lot of the big DC was empty, she pushed the bright blue buttons of the security system and locked the door, then cursed and unlocked it, "Oliver!" In seconds, the bear skidded across the slick floor and jumped out, she got it locked just before it armed itself. "Gotta stay with Momma buddy." They began walking, but Oliver froze and all the hair on his neck stood up, Olivia's heart rate quickened and she felt someone behind her, Oliver started growling into the nearby bushes.

In one swift motion, she dropped her bag and turned while crouching, flinging her foot out, connecting with a solid set of legs, then she stood with her shoe across the Adam's apple of a middle aged man, pale, with black messy hair and bright hazel eyes, Olivier was now barking at another man of similar looks coming out of the bushes with a hand gun drawn.

"Woah, woah! This isn't a threat—we came to talk." His Irish accent was so thick that Olivia barely understood. She didn't feel in her gut that her life was in danger, so she took her foot off. "Lady, I don't wanna kill your dog." The other said, she let Oliver snarl a few seconds longer.

"Call off your dog Mrs. Wallace." The one she'd knocked down stood, straightening his shirt and righting his watch.

"Olivier, come." She said and he walked to her backwards, and stood protectively in front of her. They were from the Donnelly Family, she knew it and knew that they were here on behalf of her father. "Whatever it is, the answer is no." The darkness felt suffocating, they'd have to budget for spotlights.

"He's on death's bed. He wants to see you before he dies." Oliver's potential victim stepped forward.

"He tried to kill me!" She said.

They both shrugged, "Haven't we all tried to kill a time or two?"

She couldn't believe what she was hearing, "No—let him die." The thought of seeing him sickened her.

"It might be in your interest to do us this favor." She threw her bag down again.

"Are you threatening me? I could have snapped your neck, I still could, my dog could rip out your heart before you could pull your gun again. I'm not afraid of you Irish mob assholes." She yelled, every muscle tightened, ready to fight for her life.

"Don't say it like you aren't one of us, pretty sure there's a Granger in me family tree—" Her eyes darted from one to the other. "Your friend Ronan has gotten into a bit of bad business—not pleasing the bosses—if you simply go up to Pelican Bay—he'll be smuggled to Ireland to Shepard the rest of his days, if not, we'll go kill him in Benny Hagen's gym."

Benny. What did Benny have to do with this?

"What does Benny have to do with anything?"

One of them smiled, more of a sneer really, "Nothing really, my boss offered him some fighting opportunity and he turned it down, Ronan was his friend, my boss also had a feeling you'd cooperate more if he was involved." Her head was spinning.