Page 23 of Owen (Storm Enterprises)

He sighs heavily and places his cutlery on his plate, then leans back in his chair. His nonchalant attitude riles me, but I know better than to go head-to-head with him. He will only close off and do what he pleases while I have no choice but to go along for the ride.

“My mom—” He holds his hand up.

“No.”

Anger surges through me, and my eyes blaze with fire. “I’m on my own every damn day, Carlos, and my family haven’t even met Romero yet.”

He rolls his eyes as if fed up with my outbursts. “I told you it isn’t safe yet.”

“Safe from what?” I spit out, knowing we practically have an army surrounding this fortress he calls home, but I’ve no clue why.

“It’s business, Laya.” He grabs the napkin from his lap and throws it onto his plate, and my shoulders deflate, knowing he’s shutting me out. Then his eyes flick over me and rest on my chest. The hunger behind them has me shrinking back in my chair.

While Carlos has helped me enjoy sex, it’s not something I crave from him, and I sense he can feel my reluctance.

“I want you to stop feeding Romero. I want my fucking wife back!” he spits with venom.

My breathing stutters, and a dull ache sits heavily in my stomach at the thought of not nurturing my son as I do. He can’t be serious.

I sit forward, meeting his stare with equal fury. “And I want my fucking life back!”

The truth behind my words is startling, more to me than him, judging by the way his lips tip up into a cold smirk. His eyes darken, and I become frozen to the spot.

“Be careful what you wish for, Laya. I might just make that happen, but mark my words, our son belongs here, with me.”

His taunt is chilling and has every hair on my body standing to attention, a cruel blow only a monster could deliver, and as if sensing my thoughts, a mask of normalcy takes over his face, leaving me reeling.

He leans over the table and takes my face into the palm of his hand, stroking over my cheek with a tenderness which was absent only moments ago. “Be the good girl I know you to be, mi amor.” Then he pushes back in his chair and stands, leaving me struggling to breathe as I try to regain control over my shell-shocked body. All the while, my mind is left repeating his cruel taunt.“Mark my words, our son belongs here, with me.”

Only one thought flickers through my mind.

I want to go home.

NINE

LAYA

The wind howls as I tug the sheet around me tighter. Mexico is hot as hell, but when a storm hits, we feel it to our core. I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to encourage sleep I know won’t come anytime soon.

A crashing sound has me startling and my heart pounding erratically, and my eyes flare open. I glance at Romero to find him sleeping soundly. He’s like his father when he sleeps, nothing unsettles him. The bedroom door creaks open, and Carlos stumbles inside. His eyes latch onto mine, and the way they glare at me has my blood running cold. This man does not look like my husband. His shirt is wide open, and his hands are bloodied, and my chest hitches with the intense way he stares at me. It’s like he doesn’t recognize me. A lump forms in my throat, but I refuse to fear him, so I slip out of bed and make my way toward him. My body trembles as I approach while he remains so still it’s as if he’s frozen, his stare unwavering while my pulse rushes in my ears.

“Carlos?”

He doesn’t so much as blink, and as I get closer to him, the light from the hallway lands perfectly on his face, showing his pupils blown, which causes my footing to waver. He’s taken drugs.

Holy shit, he’s taken drugs. My mouth goes dry.

Does he even realize where he is? Who I am?

A prickling awareness that we’re in danger pumps through me, and I whimper with nervousness.

Romero makes a soft cooing noise, and panic hits me square in the chest when Carlos’s attention is drawn toward him. Then I find my voice again, it’s scratchy and full of nervousness and I hate the sound of it, so foreign to my normal confident, happy self.

“C-Carlos, are you okay?”

His focus remains locked on Romero’s bassinet, and my mind races with what to do. With shaky hands, I place them on his cheeks, cupping them gently and guiding his head to face me. “What can I do?” Tears swim in my eyes. I want to help him, to take away the pain hidden behind the need to destroy himself and, in the process, destroy us too. I want nothing more than for him to be the man I wanted to fall in love with, yet I know that man never existed.

“Tell me what to do, Carlos, and I’ll do it.” My voice wobbles as a tear slides down my cheek. “I’ll do anything for you,” I whisper to the man I’ve been desperate to love to no avail, but as the father of my baby, I want him to be that man, the one who will give me the fairytale family. The man who never left me with a doubt in my mind that he loves me wholeheartedly above anyone else.

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