Page 5 of Owned

Rowan inches his face toward the man, nose to nose. “You fucking touch her again, I will kill you. And that is a fucking promise, asshole. Do you understand me?”

“Whatever,” the guy says as he walks away.

“Are you okay?” He turns my head with his hand to look at the handprint on my cheek.

“I’ll be fine.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t kill him.”

And he is lucky Rowan didn’t kill him on site because Rowan has one hell of a temper on him. Especially, when it comes to me, if someone does me wrong.

“We need to talk about this? Are you trying to off yourself and leave me to fend for myself?”

He stares at me blankly.

“Well?”

“I didn’t mean to. I wanted to see what it felt like, one time. I wanted to know how she feels all the time.”

“It’s reckless, Rowan. And one time is all it takes for someone to become addicted. Or dead. Promise me you will never do that again.”

He looks down at his feet. “I promise.”

“Now, let’s figure out how we can get out of this shitty situation. She doesn’t care about us and wouldn’t even miss us if we left. You’re about to turn eighteen and can get your own place, and even though I’m sixteen, I can stay with you.”

“No. We stay until you turn eighteen because I don’t want anything to come back on us. Plus, I’m not taking any chances on leaving you here by yourself. I’ll get a job and save some money so we can get away for good.”

“And never look back,” I add.

“Exactly. Deal?”

Smiling, I nod. “Deal.”

Rowan puts his arm across my shoulders. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Where are you two going?” Mom spews, puffing on her cigarette when we enter the living room.

“We’re hungry,” Rowan replies. Not waiting for her response, we step out of the trailer and begin walking to the nearest restaurant where an uncle on our father’s side works and often lets us eat for free.

“Hey.”

A rough hand rubs my arm. I hear him before I see him.

Looking up, I see Hayden. “You were having a nightmare. Have you been having them every night?”

My heart pounds in my chest. Ignoring him, I sit up, press my back against the headboard and bring my knees into my chest. Hot tears stream down my cheek, and I want to scream.

Thankfully, Hayden doesn’t press the question. Instead, he swipes my wet tears with his thumb. “I brought breakfast. You should try to eat something.”

The nightmare causes me to lose my appetite, so I scoot back down, pulling my comforter over me.

Ten minutes or so pass when Hayden comes back into my room. “Come on, you haven’t even in a day or two,” he holds a plate of food out for me. “I don’t care where you eat it, here, in the kitchen, or on the floor, but you are going to eat, even if I have to make you.”

With a huff, I throw the comforter back off, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and take the plate from Hayden.

He grins. “Good girl.”

Pulling a chair from the tiny table in my kitchen, I pull one leg up on the chair to rest an elbow on and pick at the blueberry muffins with my other hand. I don’t bother looking at Hayden because shame fills my insides, causing my heart to constrict. Even if he grins at me, I see the disappointment in his eyes. What I did last night should have pushed him far away from me, but here he is, still trying to make sure I eat and be here for me even if we don’t talk.

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