Chapter 22 #2
Owen knows he shouldn’t—not from this guy—but the taunting voices get louder by the minute. “Yes.”
Lee taps Owen’s cheek. “Good boy. Let’s go.
” He holds Owen’s hand and leads him between sweaty bodies.
They’re about to reach the entrance when something catches Owen’s eye.
He stops walking and focuses on the man who’s standing next to the wall at the corner of the club.
There’s no one dancing around him, and although the light is dim, Owen can see him clearly.
Do I know him?
He’s not sure, but he feels like he wants to.
Lee tugs at his hand. “Come on. I have other clients.”
“In a minute.” He shakes his hand out of Lee’s grip and walks toward the man by the wall.
He doesn’t seem surprised to find Owen facing him. He has the most beautiful green eyes, both kind and sad.
“You look familiar,” Owen says, noticing that someone has turned down the volume in the club.
“I should look familiar,” the man says in a deep voice.
Would you sing for me?
“Have we met?”
“Yes, Owen. We’ve met.”
“And do you like me?”
The man takes a breath. “I like you very much.” He sounds sincere.
“I think I’m over this party.”
The man nods. “Good. Would you come back, please?”
He frowns. “Come back where?”
“To me.”
He should ask more questions before going anywhere with this mysterious stranger, but he wants to trust this man.
“Okay,” he says as the club around him fades. “I’ll come back to you.”
*
He first notices the annoying beep of a machine, then the dull pain across his body and the dryness in his mouth. He cracks open his eyes, watching a blurry face become visible.
The man from the party.
But the party is clearly over, and now he’s in a small hospital room. It’s dark outside, with a single lamp providing soft, amber light.
“Welcome back.”
Owen tries to rub his face, but there are tubes connected to his arms. “What happened?”
“You overdosed. Here.” Will—no longer a stranger—takes a glass of water and puts it to Owen’s parched lips. He drinks slowly, enjoying the liquid swimming down his sore throat.
Will puts the empty glass on the counter and slides his chair closer to the bed. Owen’s brain clears, allowing him to process Will’s statement. “I overdosed?”
“At Eminence, with those two men. They gave you heroin.”
He remembers. His body was on fire: his heart, his skin, and his veins. “It was horrible.”
“I know. I performed CPR on you until the ambulance came.”
He reaches for Will’s hand and squeezes it. With his sight sharper, he notices the bump on Will’s forehead. “What happened to you?”
“It doesn’t matter now. I’ll tell you later.”
“How did you know where to find me? Did Nate help?”
Will looks away. “He was made to help, yes. But don’t think about it now.”
“I heard thunder. Was it gunshots?”
“Yes. The two men are dead. Your aunt was wounded—she’s fine. A bullet to the shoulder, but she’ll be okay. She’s in a room down the hall. You’ve been out for almost a day.”
Owen exhales. He should at least be relieved that those who kidnapped him are dead, but he can’t help but remember meeting Small-Town Joe for the first time. He liked the guy. “I’m sorry about all of this.”
“You didn’t choose to get kidnapped. Focus on getting stronger.”
“Is he awake?”
Will tenses at the sound of the sheriff’s voice. “He’s awake, but weak.”
“I can talk to him,” Owen says. He tries to sit, but it makes him dizzy, so he remains lying. He hopes they’ll take the IV out of him soon—the thought of those needles buried in his flesh is unsettling.
The sheriff comes closer, holding his hat. “How are you, son?”
“This isn’t my finest hour, but I’m okay.”
The sheriff’s eyes slide down to where Owen and Will are holding hands. Owen prepares himself for a look of disapproval and disgust, but the sheriff simply looks away and asks, “Do you remember what happened?”
“They kidnapped me when I was on my way back home.”
“Did they threaten you before?”
“No, and I can’t think of anything I might have done that was suspicious. It’s been a while since I went there, and I told you that I wasn’t going to continue doing undercover work. I don’t know why they decided to kill me all of a sudden, but it sounded like they got an order from someone.”
The sheriff nods. “I know more details now that we have Nate in custody, but we can talk more when you’re out of here.”
“Nate is in custody? Was he behind what happened to me?”
“No, but he seemed to have known that you were at risk, and after attacking Will—”
“Excuse me?!” He watches the bump on Will’s head. “He did that to you?”
Will gives a warning look to the sheriff. “I was going to tell him later.”
The sheriff nods. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. Go say hello to your aunt if you can.”
The sheriff leaves, and Owen asks Will, “Do you really think Nate wanted me dead?”
“I… I don’t know. Maybe.” He seems troubled.
“Please tell me what happened.”
Will holds his gaze, his sudden smile is unexpected. “Joel didn’t kill himself because of me.”
That is not what he expected to hear. “I don’t follow.”
Will shares the sequence of events since the moment he realized something bad had happened to Owen. From searching around town to going to Nate and being attacked by him from behind. Owen is shocked when Will shares about waking up bound to a tree and having to face Nate’s madness and revelations.
“How do you feel about this?” Owen asks.
Will hesitates before answering. “I need more time to process a world where I can blame someone else for Joel’s death, but the more I think about it, the more I don’t want to do that.
Blaming Nate isn’t going to make what happened any less of a tragedy.
Joel was sick. Even if he thought I was having an affair with Nate, it shouldn’t have been enough to cause him to take his own life.
He was likely going to do that eventually with how none of us was able to help him.
Maybe the Joel I once loved was still there before the end.
He couldn’t stand what he had turned into, so he decided to stop fighting.
” Will clears his throat. “I will always mourn that version of him and pity the one he turned into.”
Owen raises Will’s hand to his lips. Whatever happens between him and Will, Joel will always be a memory floating in the shadowy corners of their relationship. But he doesn’t feel threatened, since Will can now put some of his guilt to rest and move on.
A doctor walks in, happy to see that Owen is awake. He wants to do a full checkup on him, so Will moves aside to give him room. By the time he’s done with the checkup, Owen is tired, but he still wants to see his aunt. She took a bullet for him, and God knows he’s not going to hear the end of that.
Will helps him down the hall, rolling the IV stand that the doctor said must remain until morning. When they reach the right room, his aunt is awake and reading a magazine with one hand, since the other one is in a sling.
Owen opens his mouth to say something witty, but he ends up bursting into tears because nobody should get shot because of him.
His aunt gestures for him to come over. She hugs him with one hand, telling him that crying in front of his boyfriend is making him look less manly.
Owen wipes his eyes. “Will likes me as I am, Aunt Sheryl. Even when I’m a bit dramatic. Are you in pain?”
“They gave me something for that. It’s just uncomfortable and itchy. How about you?”
“My brain’s a bit floaty, but it’s getting better. Thank you for coming to help and for finding Will after Nate… you know.”
“That idiot left Will’s truck in front of his house, then put on music in the woods like no one could hear.” She shakes her head, sadness showing through the anger. “I used to consider him a friend.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, none of that. Mitch said he knows more about what happened. He’ll tell us tomorrow. Whoever sent those men after you is still free, and that’s a problem.”
Owen shivers at the thought. “I shouldn’t have agreed to do that undercover work.”
“Oh, you think? Your mom always said you were more heart than brains.”
“She didn’t say that!”
His aunt shrugs. “I think she meant it as a compliment.” She looks at Will. “With me here and Nate in jail, we don’t have enough officers to have someone watching him, so I need you to do that.”
Will nods. “That’s my plan.”
“Okay. You two go away now. Those drugs are making me tired.”
Owen kisses her cheek. “Good night, Aunt Sheryl.”
He returns to his room and gets into bed. Will turns down the light, becoming a shadowy figure standing close by. “Sleep now.”
“Okay.” Owen sighs, deeply tired even though he woke up recently. “I wonder who was behind this.”
“I know who it was, but you shouldn’t worry about that at the moment.”
“He must be a horrible man.”
Will nods in the shadows. “He is. I know that better than anyone.”