12. Nicole
NICOLE
The birds are chirping loudly outside my window, telling everyone it’s morning, and I really need them to shut the hell up. After that kiss yesterday, I know I won’t be able to keep my little secret from Owen if I see him, and these birds are intent on waking the whole damn neighbourhood up.
Staring up at the ceiling, listening to the rustling of Owen getting ready for his early morning training session, I wonder if he’s read the article. If he likes what he read now he’s finally read some of my actual words. Hopefully we’re one step closer to him trusting me again.
Could we ever get back to what we were? God knows. And I shouldn’t be thinking of this, anyway. Especially not when I have a looming asshole loan shark problem to deal with.
My breath catches in my throat as his footsteps stop outside my door.
I silently will him to walk in and finish the kiss we started yesterday.
To throw caution to the wind and take what he wants.
But I know that’ll only cause more problems. And even though the kiss was unbelievable, transporting me back six years ago and reminding me just how good it was to be together, it was also a wonderful red flag.
A reminder that explosive chemistry comes with a price. One I don’t want to pay. Not again.
Owen needs to be in Lucky’s life. And when it all comes crashing down on us like it did before, I need to be able to look after Lucky. Not be a walking zombie with a shattered heart like last time.
Plus, I have other things to focus on. Things that can’t wait. Like getting out of the house without Owen seeing us and getting Lucky safely to his play date while I deal with what needs to be dealt with.
I know I shouldn’t be meeting up with dangerous men on my own, but I don’t have any other option. Besides, Teresa knows I’ll be there, I’m not completely irresponsible. If anything bad happens, she’s right next door.
I wait until I hear the click of the front door closing before jumping out of bed and throwing clothes on at warp speed.
I only have an hour before Owen gets back, and I need to be out and away from his questions—and lips—or I might end up spilling everything and letting him be my hero in all of this.
I know that’ll only get me where I don’t need to be.
Reliant on another man, only to be let down by him too.
I know I shouldn’t judge Owen by Dad's standards, but he’s already let me down once.
Judged me, refused to listen to reason, treated me like shit, and threw in my face what a screw up my dad was.
I can’t give him the opportunity to do it again. I can only rely on myself to sort this. I’ll make it okay somehow.
It’s nearly lunchtime. Nausea swirls in my stomach as I check my phone for the thousandth time to check for any messages from Cynthia, Lucky’s best friend’s mom. I breathe another sigh of relief when there aren't any.
In order to avoid Owen, leaving the house while he was at training was a must. Explaining why to a five year old was a little tricky, so I was beyond thankful when Cynthia offered to take him and her son to a fairground.
All questions were abandoned for ‘how many rides will I need to go on before I puke?’ questions.
I glance back to my screen and ignore the five messages that are there from Owen.
Owen
Where are you?
Owen
I thought it was my turn to make breakfast for Lucky?
Owen
There’s nothing on the schedule that we made up on the side of the fridge, so I’m confused, Nico.
Owen
loved the article btw. Thank you for printing it before sending it in. I appreciate that.
Owen
This isn’t funny now, Nico. WHERE. ARE. YOU?
Owen
We’ll be talking when you get home.
Home.
It’s a funny thing. I’ve never felt like I had a home before.
When I was younger, we were always moving around.
My dad would tell me it was because we were going on an adventure, and I believed him.
Because why wouldn't I? But now I know he was running from his debts, from his gambling, and those who wanted to collect from him.
I went along with it, so did my mom, and it was fun... Until it wasn’t.
After I had Lucky, he became my purpose and my reason for being.
My heart was full of love for him, but it was homeless too.
I never felt comfortable enough living in this shitty apartment to call it home, it was just somewhere safe for Lucky and I to stay.
Yet, a month of living with Owen, and I’m referring to his place as home and creating stupid what if scenarios in my head.
What if we are meant to be?
What if he loves me and always has?
What if we could live together happily ever after?
I shake my head violently, trying to shake loose the ridiculous notion of happily ever afters.
It’s a stupid concept. An outdated one and something I have no right believing in.
His house is not mine. And all of this, it’s temporary.
I need to remember that. He doesn’t love me, he loves Lucky and he’s stuck with me.
He lusts after me because I’m quick and convenient.
He doesn’t have to go out trawling bars and getting NDA’s signed for a quick fuck.
I’m already living in his house, I’m convenient, so of course he wants to kiss me in the kitchen.
He can fuck me all he wants and won’t need a form to guarantee my silence because he knows I won’t say anything because of Lucky.
This isn’t about love, it’s about capitalising on a bad situation. Owen loves Lucky, not me.
I stand up from the sofa and pace the length of my living room, furious with myself for giving life to the what ifs in my head.
Not realising the time, a loud banging on the door startles me out of my ire.
Taking a few deep breaths, I walk the few steps toward the door and give myself a little pep talk as I go. ‘Teresa’s next door. You’ll be fine.’
I’m greeted with a huge, goon-like figure, and shudder when he smiles at me, exposing his missing front tooth in a vile grin.
“Hello, Sweetheart. You ready to settle this for now?” He smiles big and wide at me again, and I’m not sure if he knows how creepy that is or not, and I force myself not to roll my eyes as I motion for him to come inside.
His shoulders barely fit through the door and I shake off the fear that's overtaking my body.
“Would you like a coffee? It’d have to be black as I don’t have any milk.” Anything to scrape a little more time for myself before I have to tell him I’m short by a thousand pounds.
“Let’s cut the crap, sweetheart. I didn’t come here for coffee. I came for the boss’s money.” He turns around quickly and narrows his eyes at me, his smile gone and a menacing scowl replacing it. “Unless you haven’t got it. It’d be a shame to mess that pretty face up.”
I don’t fight the flinch that shoots through me at his words as all of my fierceness has left the building, replaced by fear and a sense of being in well over my head.
“I-I-I have it… most of it,” I manage to stutter out as he lunges forward, grabbing me by my throat and pinning me against the wall. His grip is tight on my neck, but it’s loose enough that I’m able to breath and beg him, “Please, I’ll get you double next month, I promise. I just needed more time.”
A smile flits onto his face, but it’s scarier than the scowl and my whole body begins to tremble. He squeezes my neck a little more and lifts me off the floor, my feet not able to ground myself.
I claw at his big hands and try desperately to get him to let me down. My airway is blocked now and I fight to get what little oxygen I can inside my lungs. He laughs at my feeble attempts as I scratch him and kick out to try anything to get free.
A loud bang startles both of us, and before I can figure out where it came from, the goon has crumpled to the floor and a blur of people have barrelled onto him.
As I scramble about on the ground trying to make sense of everything, Teresa walks in brandishing handcuffs and yelling demands at the people.
“Ye lot get him against the island and I’ll handcuff him to it. Not the first time and won't be the last time I get to use these feckers, if ye get my drift.” She throws a wink at who I now recognise as Jaxson Brady and he smirks back.
Stunned and unable to process anything, I stay where I am. Slumped on the floor, back against the wall, and so dang confused.