Page 25 of Owen (Blue Team #1)

“You hungry, babe?” Kevin asked.

My torso jerked and while I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure since I’d never done it before, I think I had my first ever nervous tic.

At least that was what I thought it was.

I mean, I did feel my head twitch to the side and at the same time my shoulder came up, and while that was going on the rest of my body jolted.

If that wasn’t a nervous tic then it was the beginning stages of a full-fledged nervous breakdown.

Tic sounded better. Tic meant I wasn’t completely coming undone.

“Um…you okay?” Kevin was staring at me like I was crazy.

Damn.

Maybe I was closer to a breakdown than tic.

“Negative,” I told him.

“Negative?”

“Yeah, negative. As in, no, I’m not okay. Not even a little bit.”

“You will be.”

That was highly unlikely .

“Did you not just see me have a mini seizure? I think that’s the first sign of not-okay.”

“Yeah, I saw. You kinda looked like Myles the time Gabe hit him with the taser.”

Great. Perfect. Awesome.

“Why did Gabe shock Myles with a taser?”

“Well, Gabe says it was for research purposes. He was testing the effectiveness. But truthfully, Gabe did it to see if Myles would piss himself.”

I narrowed my eyes in skepticism and asked, “Are you pulling my leg and making fun of me?”

Kevin didn’t notice or ignored my narrowed gaze.

Probably the latter, none of these men missed much, which meant Kevin didn’t care I was giving him my best glare.

I was uncertain how I felt about this. Actually, I was unsure about the whole situation.

Surprisingly, I’d found that once I’d started to blab it was easy to continue.

As long as I stayed detached, that was the key.

I could give the facts and details, I just couldn’t think about how I felt about—then or now.

I’d had lots of practice disconnecting from my feelings.

I was a dab hand at pushing my emotions aside.

But now that it was over I was struggling.

Owen had fled like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.

Moments later, Myles wordlessly left out the front door.

One of the two places there was cell service up here, though the backyard was the better of the two.

Gabe had given me a smile and nod which I’d decided to take as a sign of support before he left out the back.

That meant I was left alone in the living room with Kevin.

The absurdity of the moment hit.

I couldn’t say I’d laid myself bare but I had delivered some ugly truths as they pertained to my life.

Things I was very ashamed of, crimes I’d committed, horrible deeds I’d done.

And now after all of that Kevin’s response was to ask me if I was hungry, as if I hadn’t just said what I’d said.

Then he went on to tell me that Gabe had tased Myles to see if he’d piss his pants, as if I hadn’t had a mini-nervous-freak-out that may or may not have been a borderline psychotic episode.

Totally ludicrous.

Absolutely absurd.

“Shit, you’re really not okay,” Kevin muttered. But he didn’t sound concerned, he sounded like he was going to laugh.

In an effort to cope with the madness that was my life, because it was either laugh or cry, there was no other way around it—I’d gone around the bend straight to schizophrenic and I laughed.

I roared with it. Totally lost my mind and descended into insanity and laughed.

And once it bubbled to the surface I couldn’t control it.

I laughed at my horrible life. I laughed about how deeply I loved Owen.

I laughed because I’d never have him. I laughed at the way Kevin was backing away from me, proving I was crazier than I thought.

Then I laughed at the thought of Gabe tasing Myles.

I laughed at the ridiculousness of me telling the guys I’d witnessed my father killing my mother, my uncle killing an undercover FBI agent, and Kevin offering to make me breakfast.

I laughed and laughed and did it until my stomach hurt and tears were running down my face.

“What’s funny?” Owen asked as he sauntered into the room.

There was nothing funny about it but I laughed harder.

“Dude, she’s cracked, brother,” Kevin said, still staring at me.

“Babe?”

“Wh…wh…what?” I stammered.

“You okay?” Owen asked, but he was looking at Kevin who now had his hands up in surrender.

“Don’t look at me. All I did was ask her if she was hungry. Then this started.” One of Kevin’s hands pointed at me .

“What’s funny?” Owen repeated.

There wasn’t a damn thing funny and that was what was funny.

It made no sense, not even to me and I was the one laughing.

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you bustin’ a gut?”

That was a really great question.

“Because I’m nervous.”

I wasn’t sure that was the whole truth but I was going with it.

“You often laugh when you’re nervous?”

I didn’t need to think about my answer and this time I spoke the whole truth when I admitted, “I have no idea, I’ve never been this nervous, not in my entire life.”

“Why are you nervous, baby?”

Was he cuckoo?

My gaze moved through the room, stopping on Kevin long enough to ascertain he looked uncertain, then my eyes went to Gabe who also looked uncertain but weirdly proud.

I was unsure how I felt about that. He’d told me to open up, to give Owen more.

But he’d warned me to go gentle. Which I hadn’t done.

I’d woken up, come downstairs, and just started talking.

I hadn’t considered my words. I’d simply blurted them all out as quickly as I could.

Then I remembered something else Gabe had said, something bigger, something that was totally contradictory to me opening up— but a man who cares about a woman really doesn’t want to hear that fucked up shit happened to her. Now I was more confused.

When my eyes went back to Owen he was staring directly at me.

No, he wasn’t staring, he was watching me with laser focus therefore I had all of his attention.

I fought the good fight, or at least I tried to battle the urge to fidget.

In the end, I lost and I knew it because Owen didn’t miss me wringing my hands together.

What could I say? I was nervous.

“I’m sorry.”

Owen’s brows pulled together at my apology. “What the hell do you have to be sorry for?”

“I shouldn’t’ve…or I should’ve warned you all I wanted to talk and not sprung it on you like an idiot.”

Gabe grunted something unintelligible. Kevin remained silent. And Owen stood frozen. My nerves skyrocketed and I took Owen’s silence as him needing more of an explanation.

“I’m sorry for the way I did it, but I needed to get it all out and—”

“We knew most of what you told us,” Owen cut me off.

“Only parts you filled in were that you saw Barny kill your mother and why he did, which, baby, I have to say, I’m sorry you witnessed that.

There are no words for how jacked-up that is.

We knew there had to be a good reason Wilco wanted you gone, we just didn’t know what that reason was.

We knew you were involved in your family’s business, just not all the ways.

And, baby, the way you play poker we’d figured that out, too.

We also know you’re holding back more and when the time’s right you’ll share that.

Breaking that down for you, you got no reason to apologize and no reason to be nervous. ”

“But, I was involved—”

“Did you volunteer for that shit?” Owen spoke over me.

“No, of course not.”

“Did you ask for a position in the Pollaski organization?”

“No.”

“Right, so why the hell are you apologizing for something you didn’t want to do? You got not one fucking thing to be sorry for.”

That was where Owen was very wrong. I had loads to be sorry for .

“Yes, I do,” I whispered.

“Babe, you don’t.”

“I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve told. I should’ve turned snitch and stopped them.”

“Yeah, and you’d be dead right now.”

“And maybe Agent Conor wouldn’t be,” I returned.

“Maybe a mother, sister, daughter, wouldn’t be turning a John right now at this very moment, taking it any way the client demanded.

Maybe one of my uncle’s soldiers wouldn’t be on the street pushing drugs.

Maybe my life isn’t worth them suffering so I can breathe. ”

“Do not start that shit again, Natasha,” Owen growled and a shiver went up my spine.

It went other places, too, places that I didn’t want to think about while we were talking about my filthy family.

“There’s no maybe about it when I say, you got nothing to be sorry for.

Not a fucking thing. All of it, every last damn thing is on Barny and Wilco.

And, babe, check this—for the last time, you , your life, is worth everything. ”

I loved that Owen thought that but I didn’t agree. And I was positive Agent Conor’s family, whoever they were, wouldn’t agree either.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree about that,” I muttered.

“Yeah, we will. For now. But one day, we’ll hash that out, and when we do you’ll come around to my way of thinking.”

I didn’t know what ‘hash out’ meant and right then I was freaked out enough so I decided I wasn’t going to ask for clarification. Which he’d give me and that would freak me way the hell out. That meant I was keeping my trap shut—no more talking—period.

Though I nearly caved under his silent contemplation. Thankfully, before I could speak again and continue down a scary road I wasn’t prepared to travel, Kevin broke the quiet.

“Alrighty then, now that we’ve settled that, who’s hungry? ”

And just like the first time he’d brought up food, my body jerked in surprise, though this time I controlled the head-to-shoulder tic—but just barely.

“Jesus,” Gabe grunted. “Is there ever a time you’re not worried about food?”

I couldn’t say for certain because I was no longer paying attention but I think Kevin answered.

Then I heard more low, rumbling voices but the words didn’t make sense.

I was too busy fighting the pull of Owen, fighting my need to close the distance and go to him, fighting all that was him and my desire to go to him and beg him to fix my life so I could stay with him forever.

It seemed I was always at war, always fighting an unwinnable battle. I was over it. Over my life, over my family, over everything.

I just wanted one thing, just one—my life to be my own.

I wanted choices.

If I did, if I were allowed, I’d choose Owen.