Page 19 of Owen (Blue Team #1)

I heard .

God, my uncle was a pig.

Just when I thought I couldn’t hate the man more than I already did, I was proven wrong.

The level of the Pollaski depravity shocked me. Despicable. Disgusting. It also ran through my veins.

Demonic blood, that was what I had.

“Everything okay?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you,” I told him.

Then I waited to see if he’d lie.

There wasn’t a whole lot of truth between us. I had to admit, the scale was tipped heavily, my side being loaded down with secrets. But he hadn’t been forthcoming, either. Owen knew more than he told me.

“Garrett, our IT guy, has been digging around your uncle.” Owen stopped and studied me. I felt it, his gaze was seeking and deliberate. Gone was all the softness he’d looked at me with earlier. This was business. “Did you know Wilco trafficked women?”

“No,” I answered immediately with the truth. “But I had my suspicions. ”

“Did something in particular happen?”

It was my turn to study Owen. He’d been honest with me, asked me outright what I knew. He didn’t make assumptions and he didn’t blow me off. He had no idea I’d heard what Gabe told him. He could’ve told me everything was fine but he didn’t.

And after months of him taking care of me, I owed him something. No, I owed him everything. But I still couldn’t tell him what he deserved to know. However, I could give him this.

“My uncle uses different businesses to clean some of his money. One of them is a family-run deli. The wife runs the counter, the daughter does the books, the son makes deliveries, and the husband runs everything else. One day I went in for lunch. Mariene wasn’t working the counter.

I asked about her, and Bento, that’s her son, told me she was ill.

A few weeks later I went back and still no Mariene.

I asked again, and this time it was her husband, Pedro.

He told me she’d gone back to Brazil. When I got back to the brownstone my uncle told me to mind my own business.

“Later I overheard Franco, that’s my uncle’s main soldier, tell my uncle that Pedro stopped making waves, but just in case he’d secured transport for Maria, that’s Pedro’s daughter.

They never said what Pedro was making waves about but my uncle did say that he was certain Pedro had learned his lesson and wouldn’t want his daughter to suffer, too. ”

Owen continued to take me in. His stone-cold assessment was a good reminder of what he truly thought of me. Though not enough to make me wise up and stop playing my stupid game. I needed this. I needed to be Natasha for a little while longer.

“He could’ve killed Mariene.”

“He could’ve,” I agreed. “As I said, it was a suspicion. Franco said transport. My uncle said suffer. I’m making assumptions though I think they’re based on my uncle’s behavior and what I know him to be capable of.

But I fully admit I’m not privy to the business unless it directly has to do with me.

And the rest of what I know is from conversations I’ve overheard.

My uncle’s sloppy when he’s in the house. But not so sloppy he says too much.”

“And the business as it pertains to you?” he asked.

My heart slammed into my ribs like a bullet train.

There was a saying about loose lips and if I wasn’t freaking out I could probably remember it, but I was freaking out, therefore, I couldn’t think about anything other than the fact I’d said too much.

Way too damn much. I’d never taken Owen for stupid; he had to at least assume I’d played some sort of role in the family business.

No one surrounded by gangsters and criminals was clean and innocent.

“A Pollaski has to pull their weight,” I told him. “Everyone has a role.”

“Poker,” he mumbled.

And there it was. He’d figured it out. At least part of it.

“Gambling,” I semi-corrected. “Cards.”

Owen’s eyes swept my face and he looked oddly relieved. I wasn’t sure if he was pleased I’d told the truth or pleased I wasn’t caught up in my uncle's more nefarious operations. I didn’t get the chance to ask. He simply gave me a lift of his chin and walked out the door.

I didn’t have to guess what he was doing. I knew he was going to find Gabe and tell him what he’d learned.

Weirdly that didn’t bother me.

Weirdly I felt relieved.

Loose lips sink ships.

What would it be like if the USS Pollaski sank to the bottom of Lake Michigan?

I’d stand at the edge of Navy Pier and cheer—maybe I’d set off some fireworks, too.

I’d celebrate the death of an empire, that was for sure.

But it would never happen. Wilco Pollaski would never go down, he’d built his army strong, he’d learned from my father, who was a master.

My uncle had taken what my father had constructed and made it bigger.

Unlike my father, my uncle had no weaknesses—not anymore.

My father had killed the one person who could keep my uncle in check.

It was my father’s downfall—the fatal flaw in his plan.

With my mother gone, the king was overthrown. And his brother stole the crown.

We’d walked to the creek in silence. Owen seemed to be lost in thought and I left him to it.

I’d already said enough for one day and had come up with an abbreviated plan.

I would take in as many experiences as I could, I would speak when spoken to, but I would keep myself to myself otherwise.

And before I answered questions I would carefully think over my answers.

That was my new Dreamland strategy.

Not exactly what I’d hoped for but it would be enough. I would still allow myself as much time with Owen as he’d give me.

I heard the rushing water before I could see it.

Then the trees cleared and there was nothing but beauty in front of me and I gasped.

“Wow.”

I was no arborist but right then taking in the thick forest blanketed in snow, I wished I was. I wanted to know what kind of tree was sturdy enough to take the heavy load. The canopy was pure white, not a speck of green to be seen. The branches were so strong they didn’t bend under the burden.

I had wished for a great many number of things in my life.

One being, I’d wished I hadn’t lost in the ovary lottery and I hadn’t been born a Pollaski.

I wished I could run away and no one would care to find me.

Hundreds of wishes. But never had I wished I was a tree.

But right then, looking at the tall, straight, sturdy branches I wished with everything in me I could be strong.

I could spill all my secrets and trust Owen.

Who wished they were a tree? God, I was lame.

I shook the stupid thought off and glanced at Owen.

He was staring at the water so I let my eyes drift over his features.

He had a great profile. Hell, he had a great everything.

Strong chiseled jaw, perfectly shaped brows that had to be naturally perfect—no way a man like Owen who was all man would have them salon-shaped.

I knew under his beanie his hair had streaks of gray and being the man he was, he’d never cover that gray.

Which was a good thing because it looked hot.

Green eyes that weren’t pale green like mine but dark green.

His nose was a tad bit crooked and I’d bet it had been broken a time or two, but the slight imperfection only added to his rugged beauty.

“You’ve never been married.”

Owen’s strange statement scored through me and fear started to invade the serene atmosphere.

“No,” I unnecessarily confirmed. “Have you?”

“Yep.”

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa .

Owen had been married?

Then before I was done processing that tidbit of information, Owen gave me more.

“I started dating Naomi when we were seniors in high school,” he said and I blinked at the name— Naomi —the bitch who’d done a number on him was his wife?

“I left for basic a month after graduation. She stuck by me through that and A school. I went to the fleet and she stuck by me, even moved to Lemoore where I was stationed. Two and a half years later she’d stuck by me through two deployments.

I thought we were solid so I asked her to marry me.

Six months later we were married. It was time for me to re-enlist and she didn’t like the idea, bitched but came to the unhappy realization I was serious when I told her I was going to be a lifer.

“Then an opportunity I’d been waiting for came to fruition so I took it and she was seriously not on board and bitched more, even though she knew the opportunity was what I’d been waiting for.

From there, things rapidly declined until there was nothing left.

She filed for divorce, unfortunately, she spent the prior eighteen months making my life hell.

I thought once she’d filed she’d stop her bullshit, but she didn’t.

It got worse. Apparently, I was supposed to know that her filing divorce papers wasn’t her wanting to end our marriage but a cry for attention.

I was also supposed to magically know she wanted me to make a grand show of begging her not to leave me, tell her I was prepared to leave the military to prove I loved her. Or some such shit.”

He finished his shockingly thorough rundown of his marriage. It lacked a whole lot of detail but damn if it didn’t explain a lot.

He stared. I stared. Neither of us spoke.

It was uncomfortable because I had a lot of questions.

Then in a surprising turn of events, he smiled.

“Go ahead and ask before you bite through your tongue,” he offered.

Thank God.

“She wanted you to leave the military?”

“Yeah. She wasn’t keen on being a military wife. Naomi liked attention. Something I couldn’t give her when I was out to sea for six months.”

“But she stayed through two deployments.”