Page 111 of Spark

“What?” Mia exclaimed, picturing her beloved car. “She is not yours!” she reached out, trying to snatch the keys, playing into Olivers sick game. He snarled at her as he pulled them back.

“Yes, she is!” Oliver shouted, his face turning red, spit flying as he spoke. “Any idiot can hotwire a car.” He leaned closer again.

“But having these,” he jingled the keys next to her ear. “Hand delivered to me while your pathetic boytoy had to sit back and watch.” Oliver closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “I have never been harder in my life.” He let out a howl of laughter.

“Your boyfriend isn’t the only one working for the Boss.” Oliver stepped back, flexing his arms as he watched Mia closely. “I knew the Boss long before Aurelio came into the picture.”

Mia couldn’t hold back. She launched her fist, a satisfying crack echoing as her knuckles connected with his nose.

“Fuck you, Oliver!” she screamed, feeling hands grab her and pull her back.

“If you want to date a criminal, I’m right here, baby.” Oliver smirked, his nose bleeding, one hand outstretched, tapping his chest with his fingers. “I’m your man. I’ve been working for the Boss long before he owned Aurelio!” Oliver laughed again, blood dripping from between his fingers. “Stealing cars is the only thing that asshole is good for!” Oliver winced, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice nasally. “I have been at his side, watching and reporting this whole time. If this detective thing doesn’t pan out, maybe I can make the switch for good!”

Mia spit at him, a full, disgusting glob that landed squarely on his face, a smile breaking through her fury. Melvin laughed. Oliver let lose a growl, his eyes wild.

“What’s so fucking funny, you losers?” Oliver yelled, wiping his face, blood splattering onto the floor, adding to the growing mess. Melvin only laughed harder.

“You, you fucking moron,” he finally said, pointing beside him. Matty stood there, phone out, recording the entire scene. Oliver's expression fell. He looked back and forth, fear growingin his eyes as the boys stepped back, pulling Mia with them into the loft.

“Simple promises, man,” Melvin said, slamming the door shut.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Wasting no time, Mia Dialed Detective Daniels to inform him they had proof of Oliver's rotten core. He asked her to send a copy and assured her he would be in touch. Meanwhile, Oliver spent fifteen minutes banging on the door of Mia's loft, prompting Janet to come out and see what was wrong. He turned on her, screaming for her to “keep her bitchy nose out of it.” In response, Janet called 911.

When the police arrived, Oliver was still pounding on the door. He tried to flash his badge, but fortunately, Detective Daniels had already issued an APB on him, leading to his arrest. As Mia and her brothers slid the door open to let the officers escort him down the stairs, they noticed his face bruising, his nose still bleeding softly. Janet stood in the hallway, looking at Mia and shaking her head sadly.

“I always knew he was a bad egg,” Janet remarked before sliding her door shut again.

Detective Daniels called them down to the station the next morning, just hours before Mia's brothers were due at the airport. They each took turns in the interrogation room, with Matty going in first since he had recorded the entire incident. Mia was the last to enter, with Detective Daniels leading herback. Melvin wanted to accompany her, but Mia reassured him she would be fine. He relented and sat back down.

“Mia,” Detective Daniels said once they were settled in their chairs, a table between them. “I got a pretty clear picture from your brothers about what happened.” His notebook rested on the table, pen in hand. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“The video is pretty clear, but I’d still like you to recap for me what happened.” Mia recounted the events exactly as they had unfolded, with no changes or embellishments. Detective Daniels nodded, jotting down notes and asking questions for clarification. She spent a total of forty-five minutes with him, the conversation occasionally being distracted.

“Well, thank you, Mia,” he said as she finished speaking.

“What’s going to happen?” she asked.

“Well, officially, Oliver has been stripped of his rank as of last week's hearing.” Mia gasped, shocked.

“So, he isn't a detective anymore?”

“No, he isn't,” Detective Daniels confirmed. “I wrote to the chief, highlighting all the things he had been doing and how his behavior hadn't improved even after his suspension.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Yes,” he continued, “but unofficially, his father is a very respected former senator who still holds influence in Washington. Oliver will most likely be called home by his father, disappearing from the public eye while this blows over.”

“So, he won’t go to jail,” Mia said, her tone sharper than she intended.

“Unfortunately, no, he probably won’t,” he sighed, closing his notebook and clicking his pen shut. “All of this will be swept under the rug. He will be punished quietly by his father, butthey can’t afford for him to be questioned.” Detective Daniels appeared pained as he spoke, and Mia realized he was hurt by this situation too. Oliver had been his partner, supposedly helping to clean up the gang of car thieves. But now, the truth was out: he had been working from the inside for the bad guys.

“I’m sorry, Charles,” Mia said, reaching for his hand. He smiled at her—a soft, pained smile—and squeezed her fingers.

“Thank you, Mia.” Detective Daniels stood. “I have a feeling we will cross paths again. Be safe.” He ushered her out the door.

They quickly made their way home, loading the car and heading to the airport. Their flight was leaving at seven, but the time at the station had flown by; the clock now read six oh five.

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