Page 76 of Owen (Storm Enterprises)

“You are my everything, Laya. That’s why I did it,” he whispers, and I fall to the floor, never feeling so low and broken as I do right now.

Never feeling so destroyed.

OWEN

The haunted look of complete devastation etched on her beautiful face will be engrained in my mind for the rest of my life. When she falls to the floor, I move to scoop her into my arms, but she flinches, and that reaction alone hurts like a knife slicing through my chest.

Mase shakes his head, and I want to argue. I want to tell my best friend to leave us the fuck alone, but in this moment, as panic consumes me, I can barely think straight.

Silence fills the room as cries echo around us. Each sniffle taking a piece of my heart, ripping it bare and leaving it exposed, and each tear crushing it hopelessly.

The clock in the corner of the room taunts me, each tick taking a second of my life, yet I remain frozen, staring at my girl I broke so epically.

After what feels like a lifetime, she clears her throat, then stands, and when she slips her wedding ring from her finger, I feel like the devil himself is torturing my body and tearing every organ from within me.

“La… Lay.” I can barely speak her name. “Laya. Please, baby.” Wetness floods my cheeks. “Laya, look at me.”

She turns her head like I no longer exist and places the ring on the corner of my desk. “You’re not the man I thought you were, Owen. You’re not my son’s father.” Her words cut me deep, so deep I rear back on my heels and cling to the desk for support. He’s my boy. He’s my fucking boy. No man could love him like I do. They’re both mine.

“You promised me love and support. You promised me trust!” she bellows, and I wince at the heartbreak behind her voice.

“We’re done.” She draws her eyes up to meet mine, and the finality in them almost brings me to my knees.

I swipe at the snot and tears dripping from the end of my nose. “We can’t be done, Laya. We only just fucking started!”

She shakes her head, and a humorless laugh leaves her. “We never should have started.”

I grab her hands and pull her against me. “Don’t fucking say that. Don’t you dare fucking say that,” I grind out as a storm of anger takes over me.

I’ve waited for years; my heart has been torn to shreds, and after she finally pieced me back together again, she’s now tearing me apart.

She yanks her hands away, and I hate the feeling of her loss, of losing her. My ribs ache as my chest constricts.

“Laya, there’s shit you don’t know.” Tate tries to reason with her, and the thought of her suffering more hurt has my pulse skyrocketing.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I sneer in his direction.

She jolts at the poison in my tone, then turns to face her brother. “Tell me.”

“No,” I snap.

She doesn’t so much as face me. “Tell me right now, Tate.”

He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “Fuck!”

“Tate, if you don’t tell me right now, I swear to God, we’re done. You’re my brother.” Her voice hitches with emotion. “I need someone to be honest with me, please.”

I want to step forward and swipe away the tears trailing down her cheeks; I want to pull her toward me and hold her in my arms, but I know she wouldn’t allow it.

“He was trafficking women. Owen found out he was trafficking women, Laya. Selling them.”

Her face becomes even paler, and her body shudders as I drop my head in defeat.

“I wanted to protect you,” I whisper.

She turns to face me, and I almost wish she hadn’t. The hatred in her eyes is palpable through the room, and it stops my heart from beating momentarily.

My throat is dry with the way she stares at me with malice. “I know you’re hurt, Laya, but you have to know I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, baby.”

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