Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Fourth Down: Second Quarter - 16. Chapter 16
“You’re lying!” Ruth cried out, before running out of the room. Her eyes, wet with tears.
“My dad’s, dead?” Ian asked in a small confused voice.
I got up from my seat and sat next to Ian, taking the boy in my arms.
“I’m sorry,” Albert said as he took a book out of a bag, which I had now just noticed was sitting next to him. “This is his journal, we also managed to salvage some of the stuff he had on him.
“What happened to him?” Dale asked, sitting down on the other side of Ian.
“From what the FBI have been able to tell me. The motel that that Oliver was staying at, was a front for human trafficking. The owners would apparently target out of state visitors. The men would be murdered, and they would sell what ever belongings they could. While the women would be taken out of the country.” He said solemnly.
“Jesus,” Dale uttered as we held Ian closer to us.
“Come,” I said to Ian as I led him upstairs, feeling like we had had enough of that conversation. If there was anything important we missed, I knew Dale would fill us in. “Let's find your sister.” I added, looking at the journal in my hand.
We found her soon enough, holed up in her room. She was sitting on her bed, a pillow hugged tightly to her body as she quietly wept.
“Hey,” I said softly, sitting down next to her and taking her in my arms. Offering what comfort I could with Ian doing the same on the other side of her.
“I’ve hated him for so long,” Ruth uttered, after a long period of us just sitting there. “I thought he left us, and now I found out he was taken from us.” She wept as she buried her head in my shoulder. I just squeezed her tighter, letting her know I was there.
I sat with the teens in silence after that, feeling bad for what they were going through. With Belle’s passing, and now the reason for their father’s absence, they must be taking this hard. Hopefully this will be the end of the hardships they would have to face for a long time. But with everything that was happening with that Priestly woman, I wasn’t so sure. I just knew I needed to protect the kids. And if I was lucky, Ruth and Ian would not have to deal with that as well, and neither would Mia and Ethan.
It was a few hours later that I left the teens, who had fallen asleep on Ruth’s bed. Both holding onto each other. I gently placed Oliver’s journal on her nightstand, hoping it would offer some closure for them. Then as quietly as I could, I left the room. Closing the door on the way out.
“Sorry about this,” Albert said once I had rejoined them in the living room.
“No, thank you for finding out what happened to Oliver.” I told him.
We spent the next few hours discussing what we were going to do with Oliver’s remains. We wanted them brought home, so he could have a proper burial. Thinking about what his last moments must have been like left me shuddering. My heart going out to him, and the other people affected by this.
“How are they?” Dale asked, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Sleeping,” I told him, as my arms snuck around his torso, seeking the comfort that I always found there.
As the weeks passed, I would often see Ruth sitting in an armchair next to a window. Her father’s journal in her hands, and a sad smile on her face, as she read her father’s words.
“So what was he like?” I asked her as I took a seat near her, after giving her a mug of tea.
“He was such a dork,” She laughed. “He talks about how he met Mom in school, and how it was love at first sight.” She added with a smile, “Who knew he was such a romantic.”
We then spend the next hour or so talking about him. Both from what he had written in the journal and of what she could remember. She remembered how excited he had gotten when he had found out Belle had been pregnant with Ian. Of how he would spoil all of them. And of how much it had hurt when he had disappeared, thinking he had left them.
“I want him buried next to Mom,” Ruth suddenly said.
“Hmm?” I hummed after taking a mouthful of tea.
“Well, I know you and Dale are having him brought home.” She said softly.
“It’s the right thing to do,” Was all I said.
“And thanks. It means a lot to both me and Ian. I have hated him so much for what I thought he had done to us.”
“I know,” Was all I could say, as I gently squeezed her shoulder.
Over the next week, I spent some of my freetime with Dale, going over arrangements for a funeral of a man we had never met, a man who meant so much to a best friend we had lost only months before. A man who meant so much to the kids left behind, Kids who meant so much to us as well. We had managed to contact those who were close to Oliver while he was still alive, and were able to set up a meeting with his and Belle’s church. The old priest who had married them, the same one that had spoken for Belle at her funeral, jumped at the chance to do the same for Oliver. He also apologised for his colleague at the other church in town for their campaign against my family. Saying it was very unchristian of them.
Oliver was soon laid to rest in a plot next to the love of his life. Just like Belle, the turn out was quite the same. There were also quite a few new faces. Faces belonging to those who Oliver had worked with, and who he had sold things to. There was one face however, one that was definitely not welcome. Mrs Priestly sat there with her husband. Dabbing her dry eyes with a tissue as she pretended to grieve. I noticed how her eyes seemed to be focused on my kids which now included both Ian and Ruth. So Dale and I made more of an effort to not let the teens be alone for a minute. Just in case she tried something. It was Mr Priestly who surprised me.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” He solemnly told Ruth and then said the same to Ian.
“You are doing a fine job,” He then said to me.
“Excuse me?” I asked, not thinking I had heard right.
“With the Jacobs kids,” He clarified, “Belle could not have chosen better for her kids.”
“Then why is your wife trying to make our lives difficult?” I replied in a harsh quiet tone.
“I truly am sorry for that,” He said to me, “And for more.” he suddenly added with wide eyes.
“More?” I asked, suddenly feeling outraged, “What do you mean ‘More’?” I said, my voice getting louder.
“I’m sorry,” Was all Mr. Priestly said, as he looked worriedly around him, before quickly walking away with his head down.
“What did he want?” Dale asked as he slipped his arm around my waist as we gathered our family to leave.
“He wanted to apologise it seems,” I answered, then proceeded to tell him of the weird conversation I had just had.
“Do you think he was warning us?”
“He could’ve been, I’m just not sure.” I told him. “When he said that, it was as if he had recognised me from somewhere.”
“Do you think we could have met them before, and just not remembered?”
“I think we would have remembered them, especially if his crazy wife was there. She is kinda memorable. For all the wrong reasons” I laughed.
- 25
- 8
- 7
- 4
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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