A Love Not Returned

**Dedication going out to a devoted reader and new wattpad friend. Hidden treasures lie within..haha. not really treasures but I had to say it :P**

“Scott, get the phone.” I nudge his leg with my foot, refusing to open my eyes. The shrill ringing of a phone interrupts the sweet reverie of our dreams. I feel Scott roll over, flinging his arm across my body heavily. Man, dead weight sure is heavy. “Scott…” I try to roll over, groaning underneath the sheets. Scott stiffens as I do, what’s his problem?

“Madison.” My breathing stops. My heart rate picks up. My eyes snap open. This is not Scott, this is Oliver. I am not at home; I have been kidnapped and taken to the farm of the psycho that loves me. Why does this keep happening?

I was having wonderful dreams of Scott and I, engrossed in our wonderful love filled world where nothing could go wrong. Sighing, I close my eyes, waiting for the blow. A minute passes, and I gather the courage to open my eyes.

Oliver is looking at me, scowling. After looking at each other for a couple minutes, Oliver squirms underneath the sheets, rolling over facing away from me.

“The sooner you let go of Scott the better.” With that Oliver climbs out of bed. Well… that went better than I thought. I was expecting a blow to the face or a kick to the ribs or some form of punishment. Huh. I should take advantage of this good mood. Sitting up in bed, I look at Oliver as he pulls his t-shirt on. He reaches for his socks next.

“Oliver?” He looks at me, green eyes quizzical. “Where’s your sister?” He freezes, one sock mid-air. His gaze darkens slightly, his eyebrows slanting down.

“My sister?” His jaw is clenched and the lone picture on his dresser draws my gaze, and consequently, Oliver’s gaze as well.

“It’s the only picture in here… did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out?” He looks at the picture on the nightstand, straightening as he does so. Slowly, he walks over to the picture and picks it up. He turns and leans against the dresser, photo still in hand. In the mirror I see his thumb tenderly move across his sisters figure.

 Looking at his face, I can tell she is dead. A single tear rolls down his cheek, leaving a glistening trail across his fresh stubble.

“She died 7 years ago. She was taken far too soon, at the ripe age of nineteen she was taken from this world.” Holy crap, I didn’t expect her to be dead. How did she die? If my counting is correct, that makes his brother around 28 and Oliver around 26.

“Oliver… I’m…I’m so sorry.” Setting the frame back on the dresser, he folds his hands and looks at me intently.

“I’ll let you in on some information, Madi.” Oliver starts to walk over to me. “Today is the anniversary of my sister’s death, today is when everything begins.” Oliver is right in front of me now, and I can feel my mouth hanging open. What am I supposed to say to that? With one hand, he cups my cheek.

“You are my life Madison, and I will be yours.” He bends over and kisses me. My curiosity is nowhere near satisfied though, and the next question slips through my lips before I even think about it.

“How did she die?” My voice is quiet, but so is the rest of the house. My eyes are searching his, looking for answers. Oliver sighs and sits down beside me.

“She was killed while walking to college in a hit and run. Some rich kid in a Porsche, going too fast for his own good. He got a hefty fine, which was really just pocket change for his family, and a slap on the wrists.” Oliver looks at me, trying to judge my reaction.

“I’m sorry Oli-“

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I can’t change the past…only the future.” A smile tugs the corners of his lips up, and a sick gleam enters his eyes. Something about his words makes me feel sick, and I have to look away.

“Well, it’s going to be a busy morning. After breakfast, I want you to shower and change into those,” Oliver points at a pile of clothes folded up nicely on the dresser. “Then after lunch, well let’s just say for now the rest of the day is planned out.” He smiles at me warmly, too warmly, kisses me then walks out of the room.

What kind of plans? This worries me. I start pacing back and forth in the room, not paying time any attention. Before I know it, I hear someone clear their throat from the door.