Page 89 of Snowbound

The word comes out on instinct. I shake my head, trying to make it make sense.

“They always talked about what a good man he was, didn’t they?”

I nod slowly, my throat too tight to speak.

“It’s because my dad worked for the McCarthy clan too. That’s how he got me a job.”

Alright, makes sense, I guess. “And my mom?” The words taste bitter.

“She was in on it too.” His voice is quieter now, like he’s ashamed. “That’s how she made her money.”

I stagger back half a step. “I was the only one who didn’t know about this,” I whisper. “The only idiot left in the dark.”

I feel small, like a kid again… like the time I found out Santa wasn’t real.

“I don’t understand.” I turn away from him, teeth sinking into my bottom lip. “My parents…”

“Your mother and my dad didn’t want me to have anything to do with you.” He sighs. “Said it was because we were siblings.”

“But you know the truth,” I say. “You know weweren’t.”

“I know.”

“They wanted me with Jake because he was the rich boy. Only he wasn’t,” I continue, my voice shaking. “He spent all his parents’ money, right?”

Owen doesn’t answer.

“Didn’t turn out to be a good decision for anybody, did it?” I let out a deep exhale. “I feel like I’ve been used.”

His breath is ragged. So is mine. “I stayed on the crew to keep eyes on them. To get close. For you. Because the second I saw your name on that fucking list, I knew I had to protect you.”

“Why was I on their list?”

“Because your fucking husband got you in too deep. You think he just spent your money? Nah. He spent anyone’s he could, and he borrowed money from the wrong fucking people.”

How does he know all this? I stare up at him, my heart cracking open.

“You think this is obsession? It is. I won’t deny it. But I’d kill for you, Em.”

He leans in close, so close I can feel his heart hammering. I turn away and look out the window. Outside, the snow is melting. Brown patches of grass peek through where white once blanketed the earth.

And now that it’s thawing, I can see further, way off in the distance—a house.

I know whose it is before he says it.

“That’s my place,” Owen says, watching where I look.

“Is it?” I whisper. “My god. Your house is so close.”

He doesn’t say anything, just gives a tight nod.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” he says finally. “But I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“He didn’t treat me the way he should have.”

I need to know. “What did you do to Jake?” I ask. The words feel heavy, weighted.

“I told him to leave you alone.”