Becoming strangers again (Lily and Ryan) novel Chapter 166

RYAN

Standing over the unconscious man, the one we had been waiting on for what felt like forever to wake up from his coma, I couldn’t help but scrutinize his face. His features stirred something deep in my memory, yet I couldn’t place him. In my lifetime, I’ve met countless people, which might explain why I couldn’t recognize him outright. But still, there was something oddly familiar about him. Where had I seen that face before?

Turning to Amell, who stood quietly beside me, I broke the silence. “Where did you say you know this man from?”

Amell’s eyes remained fixed on the motionless figure. “I don’t know him personally,” he said after a pause. “I needed a driver after I broke my ankle—someone who could also help my sister. That’s when he showed up, practically begging me to give him a job. So, I hired him.”

I shot him a sharp look. “You hired him just like that? No background check? No questions asked?”

“Are you serious right now?” I snapped. “You hired someone for a job as personal as driving—having him cart you and your sister around—and you didn’t know a thing about him?”

Amell shook his head, unfazed by my outrage. “He’s the only one left in his family,” he said. “The guy’s been to jail, sure, but he served his time. He’s a free man now.”

I froze for a moment, my brain struggling to process what I had just heard. Slowly, I turned my head to look at him. “Are you kidding me right now?” I demanded. “You knew he had been to jail, and you still took him in to drive you around?”

Amell shrugged nonchalantly. “And so what if he’s been to jail?”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my temper in check. “I’m not one to judge,” I began, my voice steady but cold. “But I am one to be cautious. What exactly did he go to jail for?”

Without a hint of hesitation, Amell rolled one shoulder and casually picked up the chart in his hand, studying what appeared to be a scan result. “Murder,” he said, as if he were commenting on the price of groceries. “He went to jail for murder.”

“Murder?” The word barely escaped my lips before my entire body stiffened. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to grab Amell by the collar and shake some sense into him. My fists clenched at my sides, and I felt my patience slipping away. “You mean to tell me,” I said through gritted teeth, “that you hired a man convicted of murder—a murderer—to drive you around? And not just you, but my wife and kids too? Are you out of your damn mind?”

Amell looked up from the chart, completely unfazed. “He did his time. People deserve second chances.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. My mind raced with thoughts of what could have happened, the risks he had taken without a second thought. This wasn’t just carelessness—it was recklessness. “A second chance doesn’t mean you hand him the keys to your car and trust him with your family!” I snapped, my voice rising despite my attempt to stay calm. “You put everyone at risk for what? To feel good about yourself?”

Amell’s expression didn’t change, but I wasn’t done. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be done.

“He served his time, paid his dues to society, and faced the consequences of his actions,” Amell said, his voice calm. “I didn’t see any reason to punish him again for his past by refusing to give him a job. Everyone deserves a chance to move forward.”

I rolled my shoulders, struggling to keep my frustration in check. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“I am serious,” he argued, meeting my glare. “I had him test drive me, and he turned out to be a good and careful driver. He drove me and my sister around for a while without a single issue. That’s why I suggested he drive Lily and the boys. I couldn’t have predicted things would end up like this.”

The more Amell spoke, the more my frustration grew. None of this was making sense to me. His reasoning felt too casual, too dismissive for a situation as serious as this. I crossed my arms, my jaw tightening as I fired back. “Well, it did turn out like this, Amell. My sons are missing, the police can’t find a single lead, and the one person who could provide answers—the main suspect—is lying here unconscious.”

Amell let out a slow breath, his expression unreadable as he dropped the image he’d been holding back onto the table. Folding his arms, he continued to stare at the man in the hospital bed, his gaze distant. “I’m not defending him,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’m just saying… it’s possible he’s not the culprit. We don’t know the full story yet.”

“Shut the fuck up if you don’t have anything useful to say,” I snapped, my patience hanging by a thread.