“Yeah, I know.”
His hands are in his pockets like he’s holding something back.
I swallow hard. “I saw… everything.”
A long beat.
“I can explain,” he says.
My breath catches. “Don’t.”
“You need to hear it.”
“Owen,Jesus—what is this? Are you in the mafia? Were you assigned to me? Is that what this is?”
“No,” he says. A muscle jumps in his jaw. “I chose you.”
My heart stutters.
“You don’t choose people like that. You don’t… track them. You don’t log receipts, or GPS their apartments, or?—”
“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he interrupts, stepping forward. “You don’t know who you were mixed up with. You don’t know the fucking danger you were in. You think Jake was just some asshole ex-husband?”
Wait,what?
I blink.
“The McCarthy family,” he says. “They’re not just thugs. They wanted leverage.Youwere leverage.”
“And you were what?” I whisper. “My protector? My stalker?”
His face twists, and he doesn’t answer.
He steps closer. My back hits the wall. His hands slam on either side of my head.
“You want the truth?” he growls. “Fine.”
“So you’ve been tracking me?” I don’t ask. I say it, letting it hang in the air like smoke.
He nods. “Yeah.”
“All this time I’ve been in this cabin with you…” My voice trails. I connect the dots. “I thought I had shitty cell reception.”
“Yeah,” he admits. “I blocked some of your contacts.”
Our eyes lock. Something tight coils in my stomach. “Is that what this is, Owen? You want to control me?” My throat burns. “I don’t know how I feel about that, especially after everything Jake did.”
His eyes flash at me. “Fuck Jake.”
His fist slams into the wall. I jump, and a picture frame rattles.
“You don’t know who he was,” Owen growls. “You don’t know what he did.”
“And you do?” I stare at him, disbelief burning behind my eyes.
“Yeah, Em,” he snaps. “I fuckin’ do. Jake used you, Emma. He used you to get to your mother.” He pauses, catching his breath. “My father.”
“What?”