by Loretta Lost
But something tells me that it might be too late. Am I already involved?
No. I’m about to get into a huge brawl with Brad, and I can’t let Owen suffer the consequences. He can’t be caught in the crossfire of the crusade I’m about to start. Maybe when Brad is behind bars, or somehow permanently out of the picture, I can try to think about rebuilding my life.
Chapter Six
I sigh in contentment as I rest sprawled out on the soft, fuzzy rug in front of the fireplace. Owen has forced me to eat a healthy amount of delicious room service, to take a warm bath, and to use the breast pump to drain a ton of milk from my aching chest. As I lie here in my plush, terry bathrobe, with the warmth of the fireplace caressing my skin, I feel like an entirely new woman.
The bathroom door opens with a creak, and Owen steps into the room.
“This fireplace is heavenly,” I tell him with a contented sigh. “God, this was such a good idea. I really needed this. Thank you, Owen.”
“I knew you’d feel better once you emptied your mobile dairy farm,” Owen says with a chuckle. “But it’s too bad. They were a magnificent sight to behold when they were full to the brim.”
Annoyed and embarrassed, I feel the need to grab a pillow and chuck it at him. A blush begins creeping into my cheeks, causing my face to redden. Sitting up to look for the nearest object to toss at Owen, I can only find an iron poker for the fire. I grab it anyway, even though I cannot throw it at him—I figure I can at least wield it in a threatening way or something. When I turn back to look at him, I am startled to see him standing in the doorway of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
The iron poker in my hand is forgotten as I stare at his physique. I no longer feel embarrassed that he made such inappropriate comments about my body, because I have an urge to make inappropriate comments about his. I have never seen him in such a state of undress, and his body is more chiseled than I expected. He usually wears baggy clothes that make him look very lean, but I didn’t realize that they were concealing such impressive definition. I take in the contours of his muscles and the strength of his abdomen curiously, as if I am examining a work of art in a gallery. I feel like he must have been painted by a very skillful and inspired artist, for his body is a masterpiece.
“Carmen, you’re making me nervous,” Owen says teasingly. “Stop looking at me like that. Why don’t you put down the iron poker?”
“You put down yours,” I say with a smirk, staring at the towel that covers his hips and thighs.
“Oh,” he says in embarrassment, looking down in surprise. “I’m sorry about that. I just didn’t expect to come out of the shower and find you lying there in front of the fireplace looking all seductive with all that leg sticking out of your bathrobe. Tell me the truth; are you trying to seduce me? Because you just had a baby, and you shouldn’t be trying to seduce anyone for a little while.”
I pull the robe over my legs to try to be a little more modest. “Oh my god, Owen. You’re the one who came out of the shower with a dripping wet, bare chest, and a little tiny towel covering your important bits. And you accuse me of trying to seduce you?”
“Okay, okay,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. I almost expect that the towel will fall, and I stare at it hopefully. “Let’s call a truce,” he continues. “We were both trying to seduce each other.”
“Shut up, Owen,” I grumble softly, turning to put down the iron poker. “No one was trying to seduce anyone. Come over here and relax with me by the fire.”
“Do you want me to put more clothes on first?” he asks with worry. “Because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
I roll my eyes at him in exasperation. “Just get over here, you dolt.” I turn over to lie on my side so that I can stare into the cackling flames of the fire. I really appreciate that this hotel has a real fireplace instead of an unsatisfying electric gizmo.
I hear the sounds of Owen’s feet on the carpet as he moves to lie on the ground behind me. I feel him snuggling close against my back before he wraps an arm around my waist. “What are you thinking about, love?”
“Brad,” I murmur. “How I’m going to hurt him.”
Owen’s body stiffens slightly. “You know I don’t approve of that idea.”
“I wish I didn’t have to, but I do. If I don’t teach him a lesson, who will? He’s literally gotten away with murder, his entire life. Maybe he’s just been lucky, or maybe he’s been smart. Maybe people have been too afraid of him to do anything about it. But I’m not.” Reaching down to place my hand over Owen’s, I stare into the fire with resolve. “I’m not going to be afraid anymore.”
“Well, if you really want to do this,” Owen says with a sigh, “I guess I’m obligated to help you. What kind of a sidekick would I be if I didn’t?”
“I don’t want to drag you into this,” I tell him softly. “I am sorry I asked you for the drugs earlier. That was stupid of me and I was overemotional. I don’t want to put you or your career at risk.”
Owen chuckles against the back of my hair. “Trust me; I already do enough silly things to put my career at risk. On the day you met me, I flirted with a nurse to get some drugs to help Liam sleep. You’ve seen me bend the rules before, so I totally understand why you would ask me to do this.”
“But you did that to help someone you care about. This is different. This would be hurting someone, and that’s not what a doctor is supposed to do.”
“You’re wrong, Carm,” Owen says softly, placing his lips against my neck. “I would be doing this to help someone I care about. I’d be doing this to help you.”
A small smile touches my eyes as I let his words wash over me. I don’t think I have ever felt as safe or comfortable as I do right now. But it’s not permanent, is it? He’s not mine. This is just one happy moment before my life is plunged right back into hell. My thoughts begin to wander, and I begin to worry that I am a horrible person for getting so close to another woman’s man. I bite my lip as I stress out over this, and the thoughts spin around and around in my mind. It feels so right to be with Owen, and he’s the only one I can really confide in about Brad; but am I being just as cruel as Brad in taking away someone’s loved one?
Turning back over to face Owen, I stare at his face questioningly. I can see the reflection of flickers from the fireplace in his eyes. “Were you serious about what you said earlier?” I ask him. “About leaving Caroline?”
“Yeah,” he says softly, reaching up to cup my face in his hand. “Is that crazy?”
“It is,” I say without hesitation. “You have a good thing with her, Owen. You shouldn’t throw that away over someone like me. I’m totally fucked up and unstable right now. I’m a little worried that I always will be.”
“First of all, Carmen, even when you’re unstable it’s a joy to be around you. I can’t imagine how awesome you are when you’re stable. Or are you less awesome? I suppose I’ll have to stick around and find out. Second of all, this isn’t just about you.” Owen shifts slightly so that he’s lying flat on his back on the soft carpet. “I got into this awful fight with Caroline last night, and she said some things that made me realize… this just isn’t working. She and I have different goals—different paths. It’s hard to end it because we’ve been together so long that it feels like losing a family member… but that’s just it. We’re like brother and sister. She doesn’t really want me to be her man in the way that I want to be. And I need that.”
Owen sighs as he reaches up to cross his arms behind his head. “Sometimes I wonder if I really even still want to be with her. I try so hard, and she just wants to be friends with occasional benefits forever. She wants to own me like I’m some kind of toy to play with, or a slave to do her bidding, but she doesn’t want to really ever give anything back. I guess I just had to admit to myself that this relationship simply isn’t healthy for me.”
“Maybe you should figure out what’s going on with Caroline before you try to be with a
nyone else,” I tell him softly, sliding closer and placing my hand on his abdomen. “But I really like you, Owen. I don’t know if it’s just because I’m particularly vulnerable and needy right now after all that’s happened, but I really do like you.”
Owen smiles and reaches down to wrap an arm around me, allowing me to rest my head in the crook of his shoulder. “I like you too, Carm,” he says gently, “but maybe you should figure out what’s going on with avenging your dead husband before you try to move on.”
“Excuse me?” I say with surprise, lifting my head off his shoulder. “I wasn’t talking about moving on. Hey—what’s so funny?”
Owen is trying to suppress his laughter, but I can feel his body shaking and his eyes are sparkling with mirth. “I just had this image of you brandishing the hot fire poker at Brad, and saying: ‘Hello, my name is Carmen Winters. You killed my daughter. Prepare to die.’”
A wave of pain passes through my chest, and I pull away from Owen sharply. Standing up, I step around him and move toward the bed. I climb in between the sheets and nestle down, unable to deal with being awake any longer.
“Hey!” he calls after me. “Carmen, what’s wrong? I’m sorry—did I go too far?”
I am already drifting into sleep with tears staining my cheeks when Owen slips into bed beside me. He puts his arms around me and holds me close. “Carm? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Stop. Is this all fun and games to you Owen? He actually did kill my daughter. It’s not a joke. He nearly killed me. If I didn’t get to the hospital in time, I could have died. His actions indirectly or directly led to my husband’s death, and god knows how many other people. And you’re making cheesy jokes about this and romancing me?”
“Carm, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. Making jokes is just what I do when I’m nervous. I’m scared shitless here, and I will do anything to make sure you’re okay. I don’t want you to ever be around that man again. Knowing what he’s capable of? I just want to keep you far away from him. Please—just tell me that you’ll get a restraining order or something, and never see him again. Be with me. I’ll stay close to you as much as I can and protect you and take care of you.
“It’s not that simple,” I tell him. “My sister tried to run from my husband’s cruel insanity, but it didn’t work. He chased her down to the very end, even when she didn’t realize he was there, watching her from the shadows. I can’t just slink away quietly and hide somewhere. I need to face this head on. I need to deal with my problems, or they will always be my problems.”
“But do you have to deal with it all now?” Owen asks desperately. “Just take some time for yourself. We can figure it out. We can try to get evidence of what he’s done, and take legal action against him.”
“It’s not going to work. Even if we can make a case against him, it will take forever. It could take years of trying, and even then it might not pan out.”
“Just weigh all your options, Carmen. Try to find a better path. A safer path. You know that’s partly why I got this hotel room, right? We could have just slept on the plane, but I felt like I had to delay a little and make sure you were safe. Who’s telling what could happen if you see him again?”
“Brad won’t hurt me,” I say quietly. “I think I’ve got him figured out. I think that I can weasel my way into his life, and his heart, and totally fuck him over.”
Owen lets out a deep sigh. “Alright then, Carmelita. If that’s what you feel you need to do, then I’m on board. I’ll help you in any way I can, so that you can get through this and get past this. Do you still need some drugs? I’ll find a way to get them for you. Just make sure you clue me in on what you’re planning, so I can bail you out at the last minute if the situation gets too hot.”
“Thank you, Owen,” I tell him gratefully. All my anger and sadness is gone, and focused into devious excitement as I turn toward him. “Okay. So here’s the plan…”
Chapter Seven
Four weeks later…
“You look lovely this morning,” Brad whispers into my ear as he moves to stand behind me, slipping his hands under my apron.
I glance back at him, looking away from the pancakes cooking on the stove. “Thanks, handsome,” I say, placing a quick morning peck on his cheek. “Today’s your big case, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he says with a smile, “and I’m going to crush it.”
I am startled when Brad grabs my body and turns me around, pulling me closer and tightening his grip on my waist for a deep, lusty kiss. I am seized with panic for a moment as I am trapped in his strong arms and smashed against him. My whole body tenses up and I struggle to pull away while trying to keep it cool. “Hey!” I say lightly, swatting him with my pancake-flipper. “You’re going to make me burn your breakfast.”
“It’s worth it,” he says, going in for another kiss.
Luckily, I am saved by the ringing of his phone in his pocket. Brad immediately pulls away to check who’s calling, and his forehead knits into a frown. “It’s work,” he says curtly. “Excuse me, Carmen. I’m going to go into the next room to take this, because I don’t want you to hear me cursing at my boss.”
“Try to be patient,” I tell him with a smile as I return to flipping the pancake. As he walks away, I look at him suspiciously out of the corner of my eye. I am fairly certain that he isn’t on the phone with his boss. Lately, I’ve been learning a great deal about Brad’s extracurricular activities by having him followed.
Placing the finished pancake on a pile of others, I reach out to grasp the bowl which contains the last of my batter. Looking around to see if anyone is watching, I open a drawer to grab the jar that contains my special mixture of harmful pills crushed into powder. I toss a generous dose into the batter and whisk it around until it disappears. Smiling, I pour the mixture into the pan and let it simmer. I wait patiently, gazing at my creation with a cruel amusement. I flip the pancake when it’s ready, and then of course, once again.
“Brad, honey!” I call out softly. “Breakfast is almost ready. Don’t let it get cold!” Wiping my hands on my apron, I put down my pancake-flipper and grasp the plate that’s piled high. I move to the table and begin to distribute it evenly between the three plates.
“Darling, what has gotten into you?” my father asks as he steps into the room. “You’ve been cooking up a storm. I swear that you must have spent more time in the kitchen these past few weeks than you have in your entire life!”
“Losing my baby was a real wake-up call for me,” I tell my father earnestly. “I realized that I simply need to eat better and start taking care of myself more. So since I’m making the effort to really learn how, why not also help the people around me?”
“You’re a real sweetheart, Carmen,” my father says proudly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you around to take care of me.”
“Nonsense. I’m sure you would simply find another attractive young woman who could do a far better job. For example, a secretary? The local florist? Our family doctor?”
“Carmen!” Dad says with a little laugh. “Get those ideas out of your head. Here, let me grab the maple syrup.”
“No maple syrup for you, Dad,” I tell him firmly, placing a hand on my hip and pointing my spatula at him. “It’s way too sugary. You’ll have to make do with the condiments on the table.”
My father sighs. “Alright, darling. Whatever you say.” He pauses. “Did you know your sister should be in town today?”
“Is that so?” I ask him with interest.
“There’s this medical conference running for the next few days, and Liam and Owen will be presenting the findings of their research in a special lecture. Liam convinced Helen to drive back to the city with him so he could attend. She’ll be staying at his apartment.”
“I hope I get a chance to see her,” I say quietly. “Has she regained any of her memories yet?”
“Not really,” my dad explains as he moves to the table. “We’re worried that she nev
er will.”
I stand there thoughtfully for a few seconds, considering this. Helen is probably better off without her memories, considering all she’s been through. I haven’t spoken to her in a while; not since I began to focus on the situation with Brad. I feel a little guilty for not checking up on her more.
Brad returns to the kitchen just as my father is sitting down, and it pulls me from my thoughts. I return to the stove quickly where the last pancake is perfectly cooked. I flip it one last time, just to be theatrical. “Brad, does this look ready to you?” I ask him innocently.
“That looks like the best damned pancake on the planet,” he says, reaching right into the pan and grabbing it. The thick skin of his tough fingers doesn’t even notice the heat as he takes a large bite of the toxic pancake, devouring almost half of it in one bite. I wonder to myself how a pencil-pushing lawyer manages to have the hands of a construction worker. “Mmmm, this is tasty,” he says with his mouth full, before eagerly stuffing an even larger portion in. “How do you manage to make a pancake taste like heaven, Carm? It’s so fluffy and buttery.”
“It must be my secret ingredient,” I say softly.
Brad closes his eyes with pleasure as he obliterates the last bite. “All these years, I never knew you could cook. Grayson never told me.”
“I try,” I tell him modestly, with a smile of true satisfaction. “Only the best for my boys. These pancakes are made with a special organic and low-carb flour. I did lots of research to find an alternative batter that would make the perfect texture. And there are plant sterols in the butter for Dad’s cholesterol.”
As we move to the table and take our seats, Brad dives in to the rest of the pancakes. He moans with satisfaction at each mouthful. “Seriously, Richard. I used to just grab a shitty lunch from a truck outside work—a hot dog or some other greasy fast food. Unless a bunch of co-workers were going out for sushi, I never actually ate a real meal until Carmen started packing lunches for me. And I swear, I feel so much better. I have so much more energy all day, and I’m able to get a lot more work done. I don’t know how I ever lived without Carmen in my world.”
