And here I am wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. I’m underdressed. I can’t walk into a store like that looking like this.
“If you pull out that wheelchair, Jaxon, I’ll kill you in your sleep by slicing your throat and watching you choke on your own blood.” Quinn’s warning is the epitome of a death threat, and gravel laces her throat as she speaks.
“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” Jaxon teases, wrapping his arms around Quinn’s waist. “I just want you to be comfortable. The doctor said to take it easy. If you think you’ll be okay, then I’ll leave the chair. If you’re being stubborn and proud, I’m going to spank that ass red later.”
I blush as I watch Jaxon back Quinn against the car and kiss her senseless. I wonder what that is like, to be wanted with so much disregard for the outside world that everything else fades away. You’re lost in each other, the love, the lips, the … everything.
How addicting that must be.
His hand cups her stomach as their tongues intertwine.
Owen’s hand blocks my eyes, and I grin from him treating me like an innocent virgin. I’m far from a virgin, but unfortunately, I am innocent and naïve. I’ve only experienced hate.
“Get the chair,” she says breathlessly, chest rising and falling with the spell of lust Jaxon has cast over her.
“That’s what I thought,” Jaxon purrs, giving her one last kiss before opening the truck bed again.
Gabriella, Sebastian, Finley, Grayson, and Heaven walk across the freshly paved street. They pause as a car passes, not slowing down and nearly hitting them. The car honks a horn, and Grayson flips the guy in the car off.
“Hey, we’re walking here, asshole!” Grayson shouts, and Sebastian takes a picture of the guy’s license plate. With the look on their faces, I’m going to assume this encounter isn’t over.
The group makes it safely across the street while me, Owen, Quinn, and Jaxon are still on the other side of it.
“We’ll meet you there,” Owen says to Jaxon, who is pushing a relieved Quinn in the wheelchair. Her hands are on her belly, and she blows out a breath that puffs her cheeks. She looks relieved to be sitting down.
“Yeah, no problem.” Jaxon looks left and right, double checking to make sure no cars are coming so he and his pregnant wife are safe.
After they get far enough away, Owen’s hand lands on my shoulder and spins me toward him. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”
“Honestly?” I kick the ground and a pebble rolls under the truck. “That I’m not meant to shop here. Look at me and what I’m wearing. I’m a mess, and this store is for people—”
“Is for everyone,” he corrects me. “Remember what we talked about?”
“I know. I’m just…” I shake my hands out by my sides and try to relax. There are a few people on either end of the strip mall, trying to go in and out of different shops, but they’re all closed for us. What if they get mad when they see us enter and try to harm us?
I’m breathing fresh air, the smell of autumn and a hint of cold weather lingers. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I look around. It’s probably nothing, just my paranoia. All I see are a few Mom and Pop shops and a restaurant.
The Lighthouse Grill. I recognize the name. I saw Grayson with a bag of food last night, and Owen said it was Grayson’s favorite place to eat.
“I’m anxious. The sun is bright, and there are people around. I’m nervous.” I wring my hands together like I’m squeezing out a wet rag. A greyhound is running after a rabbit in my heart. The damn thing is practically trying to beat out of my chest. “I don’t know if I can go in there, Owen. I don’t know. I’m… I know I’m out in the open, and I’m free, but it’s—”
“A lot. It’s happening all at once,” he says, finishing my sentence for the second time.
“Yeah. It’s dumb. It shouldn’t be. I’m so used to being alone. I’ve hoped to be around others, and now I am. I’m so afraid one of them are going to...” I twist my fingers together until I feel a small amount of pain, the bone threatening to break.
“I know, but I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. I’m not going to let anyone take you. Think of me as your bodyguard, Jolie. The store is closed for us, remember? It’s just us. No other people.”
No other people.
I repeat his words in my head and close my eyes, taking meditating breaths to try to get my skin to stop prickling. My paranoia is making me sick. I’m fine. My captor is dead. Owen saved me. I’m with people I can trust.
Opening my eyes, I stare into Owen’s navy-blue ones. He smiles, rubbing his fingers across my jaw where my bruise is. “There you are.”
“Here I am,” I whisper, afraid.
It isn’t him I’m afraid of, but me. Everything inside me is open, raw, and vulnerable. His kindness is making it hard for me to not want to fall into him. I don’t want to have feelings for a man, but Owen is making it so hard.
Would I feel like that if any other man had found me? And cared for me? Showed me kindness and respect that I hadn’t seen in nearly two years? Am I craving attention? Is that all this is that I feel?
My heart is starved for love. It’s soaking up every bit Owen gives, even if it’s out of obligation or friendship. I’m allowed to yearn to be his friend, aren’t I? Even if something inside me, a part beneath the darkness, the fear, and my past, tells me that I’m feeling something more for him than just friendship.
“Come on, let’s go shopping for those boots.” Owen winks. I’ve never been winked at before, so I look away, not wanting him to see the grin on my face. His hand entwines with mine on instinct as we cross the street.
“I’m sorry, sir. But we are closed for a private—”
“They are with us, Selene, it’s fine,” Jaxon says from the corner, guarding an empty wheelchair. I guess Quinn changed her mind.
“Oh, of course. My apologies. I hope you find everything you need.” Selene, the sales associate, opens the door wider to allow us in. She is the kind of beautiful that women see in magazines. Long, silky blonde hair, bright blue eyes, red lips, big boobs, tall and all legs.
And here I am looking like Humpty Dumpty.
Owen could have anyone he wants. Why in the world would I ever think he’d want me?
She’s a model.
I’m wreckage.
“Thank you,” Owen says without looking at her, but she’s eyeing him.
How could she not? He is ruggedly handsome, a protector, the kind of man a woman can’t look away from. I try to untangle my hand from his to break the contact since we’re inside, but he tightens his hold.
“This would look so cute on you, Jolie,” Quinn says, hobbling over as he holds a beige summer dressed that has tiny sunflowers on it. “You should try it on.”
“I … I don’t know.” I try to take a step back, contemplate running away, but Owen’s hard chest stops me.
“I think she’s right,” he whispers in my ear. “You should get a bunch of stuff, try it on, and let us see. Go hang with the girls. I’ll be right here.”
I clutch his hand and shake my head, pathetically asking him to stay by my side. I … I don’t know these people. This wasn’t a good idea. I want to go back to my room and lock the world out.
No, you’ve been locked out of the world. They are trying to help.
Quinn is all smiles as she places the dress against me, the hanger scratching along my collarbone. “Look,” she says, turning me toward the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. “You look gorgeous.”
I can’t focus on my reflection. All I feel is an empty hand.
I’m so pathetic.
I can’t even be thankful to finally have the freedom I’ve been wanting the last year and a half because being alone is now my worst fear. I never want to be alone again, and when Owen isn’t holding my hand, that’s exactly how I feel.
Even with Quinn here, smashing this dress against my body, I feel completely alone, yet my soul is chaotic. Every molecu
le inside me is rebelling against one another. Some are telling me to move forward, some are telling me to trust, and some are telling me to cut my losses and run.
And yet I can’t move.
It’s like who I used to be is paralyzed inside me somewhere, and my feet are superglued to the floor. My inner voice is screaming at me with tears running down her face, begging me to be the person I’ve been wanting to be for the last year.
But I can’t. I don’t know how.
So while on the outside I’m quiet, on the inside, I’m havoc.
“Hey.” Owen captures my attention by moving closer behind me. He takes the sunflower dress from Quinn and holds it against my body again. Quinn gives me a reassuring wink in the mirror before waddling away. Her hand is pressed against her lower back and to my right, I see Jaxon creeping up on her with the wheelchair, the wheels squeaking with every roll. “Look at my Jolie,” Owen says gently, but stern enough to yank me out of my head.
I blink away the fog and meet his reflection with my own.
“There you are,” he says again.
“Here I am,” I repeat.
“Do you like this dress, Jolie?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“I’m not here for me. I’m here for you. Do you like it?” he asks again.
I rub my hands over the material. It’s soft. I take it between my fingers and let the cotton slip over my skin. The hem stops right above the knee, not showing too much leg, but enough to keep me cool on a hot day. The collar drops below my collarbone in a swoop, but it doesn’t show cleavage. I’m glad. I never want to show my body.
I do like it. I would like to try it on. I nod. “Yes, I do.”
He gives me the biggest grin as he drapes the dress over his forearm. “Good. Now, go pick out more. Anything, everything. Go ahead,” he urges me on. “I’ll be right behind you, waiting to carry it to the dressing room.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I know how men feel about being belittled or seeming like they are less of a man. I don’t want him to view himself like that because he’s holding dresses. I can hold them. I reach out to take the dress away, but he half turns his body away from mine.
“I know I don’t. I want to do it, Jolie. Go have fun. This is what shopping is supposed to be. Fun. There’s no pressure here, okay?” He wraps a hand on the dip of my waist and brings his lips to my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And I’m afraid I’ll never want him to.
Twelve
Owen
I’m in big trouble.
No, not big trouble.
Astronomical fucking trouble.
I hold onto her hand as she steps away from me, and she doesn’t let go until she has to. Our fingers glide together, getting one last touch before they slip away, and she moves to the rack of clothes where Quinn and Gabriella are. Finley is on the other side, looking at lingerie and teasing Grayson as she holds a sheer piece of scrap against her body.
Grayson is biting his fist, then he bends down and whispers something in her ear that makes her throw her head back and laugh. She shakes her head and pushes him away. Finley puts the lingerie back, and Grayson grabs it again, slinging it over his arm like I’m holding this dress.
Holy hell.
I’m just like them.
I’m holding her clothes just like they do.
“Owen?” her tentative, unsure voice calls my name, yanking my attention from the flirtation between Grayson and Finley. “Do you like this?” She holds up a baby pink dress. It’s similar to the sunflower one I have in my hand, but the neckline is deeper and there are ruffles down the middle.
“Do you?” I ask, not wanting her to make a decision based on what I think.
She looks down and sways a bit, letting the flowy hem of the dress move back and forth. “Yes, I love it.”
“That’s all that matters, Jolie, but if you really want to know, I think you’ll look very beautiful in it.”
The grin that beams across her face makes me want to buy all the damn dresses. All of them.
“Give it to me,” I say, holding out my arm for her to add it to the pile.
She lays it over my arm and hops to the rack again, sliding each hanger across the rod until she finds another she likes. “Look at this one!” she says, showing me first. “Quinn…” She spins around to show Quinn, which makes me hold my breath. This is a big step for her.
I think it is. She’s only ever been looking at me for guidance, and now she’s looking at Quinn. It’s a big deal, and it’s happened quick. Jolie is stronger than she gives herself credit for.
Quinn has this hopeful smile on her face, waiting to see what Jolie is going to ask her, and Jolie pauses, glancing back at me for reassurance.
I nod, telling her to go for it.
“Do you like this?” she says softly, holding a teal blouse to her torso.
“I love it! Oh, you know what would look really great with that top? I just saw the perfect bottoms. Give me a sec,” Quinn rummages through the rack again, taking Jolie’s shyness and uncertainty of her in stride. She grabs a pair of black skinny jeans that are a bit distressed along the thigh and holds them out to Jolie. “What do you think?” she asks Jolie.
“I love them!” Jolie gasps, snatching them so excitingly that the way she took them from Quinn is almost rude. “Look, Owen, do you like it?” she asks me again for my opinion, and I’m starting to wonder if she cares about her own.
“Do you?” I ask like I always do, loving that damn grin she has on her face. I can tell she likes it. She doesn’t even have to say it. What’s gotten into me? A week ago, I couldn’t fathom thinking of another woman or moving on. I’ve never met anyone, out of all the people I’ve come across in the last twenty years, who’s ever made me feel like this.
A tendril of guilt ropes around my heart, tightening it to the point that it takes my breath away. I feel like… It’s stupid, but I feel like I’m cheating on my wife.
My wife who hasn’t breathed in twenty years. A wife I haven’t seen, who is bones in the ground, and all I can think about is how I’m cheating on her emotionally.
I’ve been dead inside for twenty years, and now I know what it’s like to be awake.
But what about Annabeth? I can’t… I can’t just leave her behind.
“I love it,” Jolie says, bringing me out of my confused state.
“Hmm? What?”
“This top and jeans, I love it.” She places them across my arm and having her near me takes away the confusion and second guessing.
“Good. Good, that’s real good, Jolie.” I stand there and watch as she floats around the room, grabbing anything and everything she can. Her green eyes are wide with life and energy, the most I’ve ever seen since she’s been with me.
“You’re allowed to be interested.”
“Huh? What?” I spin left and don’t see anyone. I turn right and jump when I see Heaven next to me.
His arms are crossed, and he’s staring at the girls laughing, all but Jolie. She looks like she wants to laugh but is afraid to.
“To want. To be attracted. To wonder what it will be like.”
I scoff, not understanding what he thinks. “Wonder what it will be like to what?”
“To move on, Owen.”
“Oh. I… I … don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not… It isn’t…” Every excuse I try to come up with fails to leave my mouth because the excuses are a lie.
I am wondering what it will be like to move on.
“I don’t know.” I exhale. “I don’t know, Heaven. That’s all I know, and that isn’t much, is it? How do I go about wooing someone who just escaped so much trauma? And how do I get over my own?” I never talk to Heaven about this sort of thing. Heaven isn’t the serious kind of guy, so it’s hard to have conversations with him.
“You just do,” he says simply as if it’s that easy. “I think you’re already doing it, to be honest.”
“I saved h
er,” I argue. “It’s nothing more than that.” Lie. It’s more than that to me.
“Liar,” he calls me out. “It’s more. You don’t want it to be more because of what she’s been through. She looks at you like you hung the moon, Owen.”
A stab of hurt cramps the muscles in my chest from his words. “She only looks at me like that because I saved her. I’m the one she trusts because I saved her. I’m the first man she’s seen in a year and a half who hasn’t hurt her. That’s all.” Even if I look at her like she’s the woman who saved me from my own damnation.
“Maybe she did at first; I don’t know. But look at me and look at you; I’m fucking hot.” He nudges my side, laughing. He’s kidding, but his words fucking get to me.
Look at him and look at me.
He’s her age, more her age, anyway. A good-looking guy, the typical model-like features that graces the covers of magazines. Here I am, about fifteen years older than she is, and I’m no damn model.
“She hasn’t looked at me once, or Sebastian, Grayson, or Jaxon. No one, Owen. Just you. It’s too soon to tell if she’s looking at you because she only trusts you, or if it’s something more. All you can do is wait, Owen, but I think… I think she likes you.”
“Owen, look!” Jolie runs up to us, cheeks red from grinning so much, and lays another dress over my arm. It’s white, flowy with tulle at the bottom. I think I’m starting to understand her style. Simple, elegant, flowy. She really likes the sway of material. This one reminds me of a wedding dress, the kind the bride wears to the courthouse or after the main ceremony.
“I love it.” My arms are starting to get heavy from the stack of clothes she’s throwing on me. “Are we ready to try on?”
“Oh yeah, we’re going to have a show!” Gabriella says as she opens the fitting room door.
Jolie grabs me by my free hand and drags me forward, and a dress drops from my hold, falling to the floor.
Cruel Intoxication: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 4) Page 10
