Two - faced.

Oliver Lane. 2

Ten years later... 

Oliver looked out the window of his Mediterranean style mansion and over the pool, out into the city. His blue eyes filled with longing as he did, he quickly ran a hand through his messy brow hair and pulled out his cell phone. His stomach flipped as he dialed the familiar number, his fingers hitting the numbers instinctively. "Hello?" Oliver sighed and paused, not knowing exactly what to say to the boy. "Oliver?" He ran his hand through his hair once again, bit his lip gently then spoke. "Hey." He said, finally, authority taking over his tone. "I'm coming back for a while." He growls through the phone, taking the hate of his father out on his friend. "Okay Oliver, we miss you man. See you back home." Oliver breathes a sigh of relief and hangs up the phone, the feeling doesn't last long, as he knows soon enough, he will have to talk to his father about leaving the country again.

Oliver bites down on his lip hard, then straightens his posture as he enters his father's room."A word?" Oliver says and spots him, his father sits behind a desk, talking on the cell phone as usual, looking stressed and angry. Martin, Oliver's father yells at who ever is on the other side of the line and slams the phone on the desk, sighing heavily. "What do you want Oliver?" He spats, almost hatefully at his son. Oliver looks to the floor momentarily. "I want to go home." His father becomes silent with anger. Oliver can feel his glare and forces himself to meet it. 

"No." His father growls. "Get out, I have business to attend to." Oliver holds his breath and digs his foot into the designer carpet. "I'm going." Oliver states, his father stands with a threateningly slow pace, his son holds his ground even as he comes toward him. "I said no." Martin snarls, warning filling his tone, telling Oliver to back off. "I refuse to stay here any longer. Especially with you, this isn't me." His father chuckles and grabs Oliver shirt collar, startling his son slightly. "Really? What are you going to do?" Oliver shoves his father, causing him to stumble a few steps. "I'm leaving, and you aren't going to stop me." A new tone fills Oliver's voice, one he has never taken with his father before, dominance. 

Martin stares at his son for a moment, completely baffled by his behavior. "Do I need to beat the sense back into you? Have you forgotten who you are talking to?" Oliver's father says and slowly starts to undo his belt. "Back off." Oliver's tone is serious and threatening. His father runs at Oliver and hits him with the belt, Oliver feels the familiar burn of the leather drag across his face. "Stop." He begs. His father his him again. Oliver moves his hand to the back of his waistband and draws the pistol into his hand. His father freezes at the sound of the gun cocking. 

Martin backs away, fear brooding inside him, Oliver crawls to his feet and points the gun at his father's head. "Oliver, think about this." His father says, trying to calm the situation. Oliver's hand's are steady, and the thought crosses his mind, he wonders if his father knows how many times he has done this before. "Is this what you want?" Oliver asks him, his voice calm. His father drops the belt and puts his hands up in surrender. "So I guess you know now. I'm not perfect, maybe it was all the medicine you put me on as a kid or all the bruises you left on me!" Oliver yells at his father, who flinches back in escalated fear. "I'm leaving, and i'm not coming back." Oliver says roughly and with a final tone. "How could you do this to your dad?" Martin says as Oliver orders him to the floor, with the pistol still aimed at his head. 

Oliver grabs his father's leather jacket off the desk chair and slips it on quickly. All emotion leaves Oliver as he places his finger on the trigger of the gun. "I don't have a dad." He says and pulls the trigger. Blood splatters on Oliver's face as Martin falls dead to the floor. Oliver wipes the blood away and without a second thought turns away, pulling the door closed to his father's office. He grabs his backpack and goes into the kitchen, grabbing the keys off the counter, he gives one last glance to his father's office then makes his way out to the garage. 

Oliver gets into the car and wipes more blood off his face. He puts the car in drive and heads for the airport, his mind empty. "God forgive me." Oliver whispers to himself as he boards the plane from Milan, Italy to Cleveland, Ohio.