Page 58 of Owen (Storm Enterprises)

“Now tell me about your nightmare.”

She lifts her head to face me, but my tattooed fingers remain on the back of her head.

When she takes a deep breath, I feel it all the way into my balls, unable to help the way my cock throbs for her.

She swallows, and the way her eyes flicker with fear before she licks her lips and gives in to my command stirs the devil inside me, eager to get out.

“When I close my eyes, I see it all happen.” The soft tremble in her voice sends my pulse racing with anxiety.

I nod toward her. “Go on.”

“The men that came into the room and made him—” Her breath hitches as tears fill her eyes, and I want nothing more than to take away her pain, but her word sends my mind into overdrive. “Kneel. They made him kneel before they…” Tears spill from her eyes, and a shudder racks her body followed by a wake of goose bumps.

Awareness creeps up my spine like poison. She saw him die.

“Before they killed him.” She gasps and sucks in a sharp breath, stealing mine in the process. “They killed him, and there was so much blood, Owen. And I shouted for them to stop, I shouted, and Romeo was crying, and his eyes, his eyes met mine, Owen.” Her panicked words flow from her as she unravels while I remain steadfast, frozen beneath her with such volatile anger I’m too afraid to move, knowing the destruction I could cause.

They killed him in front of her.

My teeth draw blood from my lower lip as my girl breaks down, and when her sobs turn to wails, the hazy cloud of fury detonates, and I’ve no choice but to slide her off me and onto the mattress.

I jump up from the bed like a madman, and with a roar, I slam my fist into the wall again and a-fucking-gain until the plaster crumbles to the floor like my heart.

She saw her husband murdered.

The bastard didn’t even protect her from that.

I should have been there. I should have stopped her from leaving, from marrying him.

“You couldn’t have done anything.” Her fingers graze over my back, disconnecting me from my descent into the abyss, and now I realize I voiced the words I was thinking.

“I should never have let you go, Laya,” I whisper, brokenhearted at the terror she must have endured.

“I’m here now,” she reassures me, smoothing her hand over my back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Turning to her, I swipe away the last of the tears streaking her face. I will not allow her to cry for him. “Promise?”

She smiles and toys with my mother’s chain as she raises her chin with confidence. Her words are low but strong and passionate, not a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “I promise.” And I relax against her words, knowing she believes them as much as I do, that we will weather a storm together. We will remain strong and unbroken; the way we were meant to be.

TWENTY-NINE

LAYA

After showering, feeding Romeo, and dressing, I leave the bedroom and head downstairs, smiling as Owen talks to my son in a gentle voice reserved solely for him.

“Daddy is going to build you the biggest fort, little buddy. Just like on Mommy’s Pinterest.” My heart floods with love for them both. There’s something hot about a man holding a baby, especially barefoot in tight jeans and a white T-shirt stretched over his muscular frame.

Romeo stares back at him, and I swear it looks like he’s taking it all in. When Owen grins down at him with love in his eyes, a sharp pang hits me square in the chest.

Carlos never looked at him like that.

He never spoke of a future with our son. He didn’t discuss spending time with him, his dreams of a life together.

“You okay, baby? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I think we need to get you a therapist for trauma or something.”

“You do?”

“Damn fucking right, I do.” He steps closer, and heat radiates from my pores at his fresh, masculine scent I know so well. “You clearly have PTSD, although…” He grazes a hand over his head, another sign of his nervousness I know so well. He did it a lot around me when I was younger, as if I terrified him by being so close to him. Resting his lips beside my ear, the touch of his breath sends a shimmer of desire through me. “I like you suckling on my cock.”

---