Page 147 of Puck Princess

The room goes quiet.

I pull away from Owen this time. Kennedy and I take turns looking back and forth between the men before Owen finally nods, admitting what we already know.

“We found him.”

“And beat him within an inch of his life.” Lance slaps the bow on that package proudly.

Kennedy pumps a fist in the air before she claps Lance on the back. “Yeah, you fucking did.”

I’m still processing. Still trying to understand how tonight happened at all—how any of this is real. “Where was he?”

“A bar,” Lance answers.

Kennedy snorts. “The man threatened to kill someone, got stabbed, and then his first instinct was to go do a round of shots? Fucking typical.”

Owen smooths my hair away from my face and drops his forehead to mine. “I can’t believe you stabbed him.”

“He was gonna…” My throat tightens around the truth, but I force it out. “He said he wanted to kill me. He was going to. I didn’t?—”

“I’m glad you stabbed him,” Owen clarifies. “And the more I think about it, the more I can believe it. You’re tough, Callie Coleman.”

For the first time in hours, I manage a small smile.

“Callie stabbed him, and then I came barging in with a taser, wearing nothing but a Harry Styles shirt and underwear,” Kennedy adds. “Just ready to kick any necessary ass.”

“As one does in a Harry Styles shirt and underwear,” Lance teases.

Owen ignores them and pulls me against him. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

“It’s not your fault. If I’d come clean the first day he walked into the arena, none of this would’ve happened.”

“Those Santos men are snakes, Cal. They would’ve wormed their way out of any accusations, and we still would’ve ended up here,” Kennedy points out. “Maybe it took setting fire to our lives and then going all thrasher on him for things to work out the way they did.”

“Plus, now we know how unbelievably badass you are.” Lance smirks. “The fact you fought him off is very impressive.”

Owen envelopes me in the warm familiarity of his arms. “Now we know youcanfight off an attacker, but you also never have to worry about it again. Because we took care of him.”

Kennedy gasps. “Did you kill him?”

“If we did, you just told the entire hospital,” Lance whisper-shouts. “But… no. Owen over here let him live.”

Kennedy pouts. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because he needs to pay for what he’s done. To everyone,” I answer for Owen. He agrees by pulling me even farther into his chest.

“We fucked him up a bit and then called the police,” Owen explains. “After a bit of poking and prodding, they found a non-lethal wound?—”

“Damn.” Kennedy shakes her head.

“And then they arrested him. They have a mountain of evidence against him, and there is no way he’s getting away with this.”

I don’t even realize I’m crying until Owen takes my face in his palms. “You don’t need to worry anymore. You are safe. It’s over.”

Safe.

What even is that?

It’s a new word in my day-to-day vocabulary, but I hope I can believe in it.

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