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Did Owen just offer himself as an option? As in, he likes me, and he would marry me?
This must be a dream. There’s no way this could be real.
Even if I wish it was.
TWELVE
OWEN
She doesn’t have to marry him.
I need to make sure Emma understands that she doesn’t need to marry anyone unless it is her choice.
I told her, but she didn’t look convinced. I’m guessing there’s way more pressure on her than I can even understand.
I’m glad I haven’t let Vinnie know that I have Emma yet, especially if that’s why he wanted her kidnapped. But I don’t know how much longer I can keep her a secret.
Word on the street is someone else has her.
Wilson Anderson.
Hudson has been helping that rumor to fly, but I’ve been trying to combat that with another theory. I’ve been trying to spread the gossip that Emma has gone, probably back to Ireland to be with her family, rendering the job pointless.
I don’t know how well I’m doing, but I’m trying.
I hate being seen as a shitty mercenary.
That has never happened to me before.
I’m known for being trustworthy and getting shit done, but this is different. I can’t let Emma be freed into the arms of men who just want to force her into terrible things.
I can’t let that happen… I just can’t.
I thought Shadowboxing outside the cabin would help me blow off some of this excess energy, but it’s just reminding me of the injuries I sustained in my fight with Hudson…
And that of course reminds me of the phone call I overheard between him and Rickie.
It’s been weeks now, since I first pulled Emma away from her life, and I keep getting further and further away from knowing what to do.
I just have to keep her safe, and while that isn’t the easiest thing in the world to do, that’s all I can focus on.
At least until I can come up with some other plan.
“Hey, Owen…” Emma’s voice calls out to me from the door. “What are you up to?”
She’s using that sickly sweet voice of hers, which I see right through. She wants to look like less of a threat, to make me think I don’t need to worry about her.
Well little does she know, I’llalwaysbe worrying about her.
“I’m bored, Owen. What are you doing? Martial arts training? You know I’m good at sparring, and I could use the exercise… if you’re up for it.”
Hmm, intriguing.
I ignore my initial instinct to tell her to go back inside and nod instead.
“Sure, why not.” I pick up my phone and press a button on the tracking app that shuts off the electric feature linked to her monitor. “Come on out. Let’s see what you have, Emma.”
She carefully steps out the door to check if she won’t get zapped. It’s a bit comical the way she’s moving and a chuckle forms in my chest. When she sees it’s all clear, she sighs loudly then grabs a hair tie from around her wrist and pulls her hair back into a ponytail, showing me that she means business.
