Chapter 17 Owen
Owen
“The printer needs more toner,” Lila said, drawing me out of a daydream that involved her, a lake, and a sunny summer day. To say my head was not in the game was an understatement.
I’d been a mess since we returned from Portland, questioning my life choices and completely ignoring my responsibilities in favor of obsessing over a woman I couldn’t have.
My outlook on life had shifted in a way that I still couldn’t articulate.
The flirtation and the sexual tension were only growing by the day, and I had no idea how to manage it. I was an idiot.
Despite being ten years younger than me, Lila was the mature one here. She was starting a life elsewhere and wanted a fresh start. She deserved that. What she didn’t deserve was to be followed around by an almost forty-year-old man who begged for scraps of her attention and affection.
I needed to get my shit together. I’d taken the Gagnons up on their training offers and had been heading up to Henri’s to chop wood and share a beer with them regularly. Adele’s due date was getting closer, so Finn wasn’t around as much, but the Gagnons were good people.
Despite the prejudice that had been drilled into me as a child, I liked them.
Tucker continued to bust my balls, but woodchopping was a good workout and made me feel less useless.
Things at Hebert Timber were as frustrating as ever, so an hour spent chopping wood relieved some of the pressure I felt there as well as when I was doing my actual day job.
And since I hadn’t boxed in weeks, if I didn’t get involved in some kind of strenuous exercise, when I returned to Boston, Enzo would absolutely kick my ass.
“Is the toner in the supply closet at the end of the hall?”
“Probably.” I stood from my chair and raked a hand through my hair. “I’ll help you find it.”
As I followed her down the hall, it was impossible not to admire the sway of her ass in those jeans. I chastised myself for being a perv with every step, but I couldn’t look away.
We made our way through the executive office space to the supply closet by the stairs.
It wasn’t large, but it was relatively well-stocked and didn’t seem to have been ransacked.
Rows of paper, pens, folders, and various other supplies were neatly organized.
Probably the work of Miranda, my father’s former assistant.
She’d all but disappeared since his arrest. I had the sneaking suspicion she was one of the key witnesses in the case against him. Without her, unfortunately, we were in the dark about so much operational information.
“Looks like the light is out,” Lila said, pulling out her phone. She turned on the flashlight and scanned the shelves.
Any day now, we’d have more lights out than working in this building. We hadn’t employed maintenance staff for almost a year, and things were falling apart left and right.
I cataloged the items on the shelves as she scanned them, and when the toner cartridges were illuminated, I let go of the door so I could pluck one off the top shelf. The door slammed shut, and the room went dark. If not for Lila’s phone’s light, it would have been pitch black.
Handing the box to her, I turned, feeling the heat of her body close to mine, and swallowed back the first inkling of fear that rushed through me.
I hated small spaces. I needed to get out of here before I embarrassed myself. My hand was already clammy when I found the doorknob. I gripped it, and as I turned it, I pushed against the door with my shoulder. But it wouldn’t budge. I jiggled the knob and tried again. Nothing.
As sweat beaded at my temples, I pushed harder, assuming the bolt was stuck. I twisted the knob hard.
Instead of the click that would signal the latch bolt’s release, there was a thud, and the knob fell into my hand, then clattered to the floor.
“Fuck.” I dropped to my knees to inspect the door. Yup, dumbass that I was, I’d ripped the handle right off, leaving the lock mechanism stuck in the wall.
Lila laughed behind me, the sound light. “Figures that would happen. Here,” she said, nudging my shoulder with her phone. “Use this.”
My chest was already feeling tight as I took it and used the light to assess the issue.
Next came a bead of sweat running down my back, and as I worked to figure out how to release the mechanism, my hands began to shake.
Dammit. It wasn’t opening. And I didn’t have a screwdriver or a multi-tool on me, so I couldn’t take the door off its hinges.
Sucking in a harsh breath, I turned and stood, swaying on my feet. I pointed the light at the shelves and scanned them for anything that could help. But all I found were reams of paper and useless office supplies.
Lila stood beside me, still shaking her head at the absurdity of the situation. Her huffs and comments were lighthearted, but I was starting to spiral.
I tried, to no avail, to center myself with the deep breathing exercises I’d learned in therapy. I was beginning to lose feeling in my fingertips, and my lips were getting numb.
“Owen?” Lila said, her voice full of concern but far away.
It was getting increasingly harder to breathe, even as I counted my inhales and exhales. I was such a disgrace. It was a closet, for fuck’s sake.
But my nervous system hadn’t gotten the memo, no matter how illogical it was.
“Owen, are you okay?” her tone had turned concerned.
Shame washed over me, only making the panic more acute.
By thirty-eight, I should have outgrown this. My childhood fears should be firmly in the past, and I should be well equipped to work through any that might sneak their way in.
But no. I was freaking the fuck out in front of the woman I was obsessed with.
Fucking great.
Lila surely thought I was a basket case by this point. She’d probably run from the building, screaming all the way to her minivan, as soon as we got out of here. And I’d deserve it.
“Owen.”
Her hands were on my shoulders now. She still sounded far away, but the scent of her lemony shampoo surrounded me. I focused on it and forced myself to breathe it in, to feel her presence.
“Owen, look at me.” She splayed her hands on either side of my face and turned me so I was facing her. “It’s okay. Look at me.”
I blinked once, then again, and the world around me came into focus a little. Willing myself to be here in this moment, I studied her beautiful eyes. They weren’t blue, and they weren’t gray or green. They were a color somewhere in between. One that was truly unique. Just like her.
She licked her lips and pressed her hands to my skin a little more firmly. “Are you claustrophobic?”
I nodded, still focused on her eyes. Even in the semi-darkness, the flecks of gold were visible. So was every freckle across the bridge of her nose and a tiny scar at the corner of her top lip.
Seeing Lila had never been the problem. I’d look at her all day if it wouldn’t make me a lunatic. But seeing her like this, her eyes filled with concern but without an ounce of pity, made my mind spin out even further.
She pulled me in and squeezed me tight. The feel of her heart beating against mine was like a beacon, guiding me.
“Just breathe,” she said, her hold still firm. “I’m going to call Gus and have him come get us out. Okay?”
I nodded, forcing myself to focus on the warmth of her body against mine and the comfort her tight embrace imbued while she spoke into the phone. Then she was quiet again, releasing me but not taking her hands off me. With soothing instructions, she guided me to sit against the shelves.
“Gus will be here in five minutes. Just stay with me.” She crawled into my lap and put her arms around my neck, pulling me close.
I clung to her, my anchor, and breathed. I closed my eyes and let the feel of Lila wash over me. The warmth of her body, the weight of her in my arms, made this awful moment a tiny bit easier.
All I had to do was breathe.
Gus had shown up quickly and had taken the entire door apart with relative ease.
I’d barely made it into my makeshift office when the adrenaline wore off and I crashed. With a groan, I collapsed on the old loveseat and closed my eyes. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was there.
Lila, her face a mask of concern, appeared a few moments later, armed with snacks, water, and tea.
Gus, who’d witnessed this before, had wanted to take me home, but I promised them I was fine. I still had work to do.
“Can you tell me what happened in there?” She handed me a paper cup filled with tea and sat down next to me on the small loveseat.
“Please don’t be embarrassed. We all have stuff we’re dealing with.
And it makes me feel better, actually. All this time, I thought you were some kind of emotionless robot.
” She turned to face me, wearing a smile.
“Wow. Thanks.”
“I mean it. You’re so buttoned-up and professional. You never raise your voice, you never get flustered, and you’re always in control.”
I took a sip of tea and relished the way it warmed me as it slid down my throat.
If only she knew. If only she knew the thoughts that ran through my head. I was not in control. Especially around her.
“I’m claustrophobic.” I left it at that while I debated how much to tell her.
Beside me, she watched me with so much concern written on her beautiful face. It made it impossible to hold back. The desire for her to know me, to understand at least a little of my history, was overwhelming.
And so I took another slow sip of tea, settled into the loveseat, and talked.
“I was always a disappointment to my dad.” I cleared my throat, searching for the words.
I’d never talked about this with anyone but my therapist. “I can’t remember a time when he was proud of me.
He wanted the Hebert boys to be athletic, dominant, macho.
Like a true narcissist, he didn’t see us as individuals, but rather as an extension of his fucked-up ego. ”
Her lips turned down, and she squeezed my knee. “That’s so awful.”
I shrugged. I’d gotten used to it long ago. “After my parents got divorced, we’d stay with him for weekends once in a while, mostly Gus and me, since we were older. One time, when I was nine, he and Uncle Paul wanted to take us hunting, but I refused. The last thing I wanted to do was kill a deer.”
She scooted a little closer, and her arm brushed mine. “I don’t blame you.”
“Dad was furious. Called me all kinds of awful names because I didn’t want to kill an innocent animal.” I swallowed past the dread that was welling up inside me. “Then he locked me in the woodshed.”
“Are you fucking serious?” she shouted, going ramrod straight. “That’s child abuse.”
“It was November, and so damn cold. He left me out there all night. The building wasn’t all that small, but it felt like a tomb.
It was infested with mice, and during the warmer months, it was full of spiders.
” My body went rigid at the memories. “I remember not being able to breathe and then shivering so hard I couldn’t stand up. ”
Lila put her arm around me, pulling me close. I buried my face in her neck and inhaled. Even thirty years later, I could feel the fear that had overtaken me that night. The smells, the sounds, the cold air against my clammy skin.
“Dad probably got drunk and forgot I was out there. But in the middle of the night, Gus snuck out to rescue me. He’d woken up to use the bathroom and realized I wasn’t in my bed. He couldn’t find the keys to the shed, so he got a pair of bolt cutters from the garage and cut the lock.”
Lila let out a tiny gasp. “Holy shit.”
“Dad was furious. He beat Gus up pretty badly for it.”
His ribs had been so bruised we’d had to wrap them. Dad knew better than to hit us in the face. Gus had lied to Mom, always loyal to Dad, even when the evidence was on his own skin.
“That’s Gus. He takes his job as protector so seriously. I owe him. We may not be close anymore, but he’s always looked out for all of us.”
Lila wiped a tear from her cheek. “I am so sorry. For both of you.”
“That’s the biggest part of why I’m even here.
” I ran a hand down my face. “I didn’t come for my dad or the company, but for Gus.
No one wanted this place to succeed more than he did.
The guy has completed every training course and has earned every machinery certification and qualification in existence. ”
He was one of the good ones. Always had been.
Which was probably why Dad always kept him on the outside rather than bringing him in to run the business side by side.
Taking over one day had always been Gus’s dream.
He never would have gotten involved with trafficking drugs.
He was good. To his core. And though he’d struggled to understand why Dad hadn’t brought him in, it was really a blessing, because there wasn’t a single piece of evidence that could tie him to any wrongdoing.
“So that’s why I’m here coordinating the sale and working through decades’ worth of records to get the best possible price.
If I can get Gus some sort of payout for all the blood, sweat, and tears he poured into this place, then at least he can restart his life and get out from under the shadow of our criminal father. ”
She put her head on my shoulder, her hair brushing against my chin. That small move soothed my fried nerves. It was perfect. She was perfect. When Lila was touching me, I was okay. I was brave and could talk about things I’d never said out loud. She was magic.
“I’m sorry I freaked out,” I said, sitting a little straighter. It was time to regain at least a little of my dignity.
She pulled back and stared at me. “Don’t you dare apologize. We all have our shit, Owen.”
“True.” I lowered my head and sighed. “But mine involves panic attacks in supply closets.”
“Stop it. You’re not perfect. So what?” She poked my chest. “You’re still handsome and successful and you tell hilarious accounting jokes.”
I looked up and held her gaze for a moment. Then I seized her hand and held it to my chest, right over my heart.
She twined her fingers with mine and rested her head on my shoulder again.
We were silent for a long time, our bodies pressed together and our fingers tangled, our heartbeats and breaths syncing.
And something shifted inside me. As if parts of me were being torn apart and rebuilt with the scraps.