Chapter 9
OWEN
Standing on the terrace, I watched as the sun rose from behind the endless ocean. It was so peaceful, and yet my mind was wreaking havoc on me. I hated how Cam and I left things. I needed… We needed closure so we could move on.
For some reason, I felt like I needed to fix this first thing in the morning. Like the sooner I fixed it, the sooner things could get back to normal, though I wasn’t completely sure they’d ever be normal again.
I walked through my room and up the stairs, stopping in front of Cam’s bedroom door, suddenly regretting coming, but I needed to fix this. I reached for the handle and lifted my hand, tapping once before shoving the door open with more force than I intended.
And there she was.
“Cam…” Her name died on my tongue.
Camryn sat up in bed, eyes wide, but it wasn’t her face that stopped me cold. It was Trystan in her bed with his hand still between her thighs.
My breath locked in my throat. The scene burning into my brain: her flushed skin, his smug face, the rumpled sheets that told a story I didn’t want to read.
I had no right to be angry. None. But I was. I was furious, and I didn’t even understand why. The rage bubbled up from somewhere deep and irrational, mixing with shame and hurt until I couldn’t tell them apart anymore.
A bitter laugh tore from my throat. “Un-fucking-believeable.” I shook my head and spun away. My feet carried me down the hallway on autopilot, but I could hear her scrambling behind me.
“Owen.”
I didn’t stop, just kept moving as my brain tried to scream over the rage that I had no right to be angry. I cheated on her. But in my irrational rage, finding her in bed with Trystan proved that she was using me the entire relationship.
“Let him go,” Trystan shouted from the bedroom.
“Owen, stop.”
I whipped around, and there she was, barefoot, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt. The anger surged again, irrational and consuming.
“What, Cam?” My voice cracked like a whip, sharper than I meant. “What?”
She stumbled backward, and something in me twisted at the fear flickering across her face. But I couldn’t stop. The words, the rage, the confusion, all came pouring out.
“You know it really didn’t take you long to move on, did it?”
Her face shifted, confusion, then something harder. “You cheated on me.”
The reminder hit like a slap, but it also released something worse. Something I’d been holding back since that night, since before we’d even started dating.
“Let’s not pretend like you didn’t fuck Trystan the night before we started dating.”
The shock on her face should have made me feel vindicated, but it didn’t; it made me feel sick.
Trystan appeared behind her, territorial and protective in his boxer briefs. “Do not talk to her like that.”
“Trystan, go back to bed,” Cam ordered.
But I couldn’t stop staring at her, at the way she looked at me like I was the villain. Maybe I was. I’d cheated, I knew that. But this... seeing them together... it confirmed every insecurity I’d buried.
Doors opened. Syn emerged, then Harlow. The hallway was filled with witnesses to my humiliation.
“What’s going on?” Syn asked.
“Nothing,” Trystan said, stepping between us again. “Go back to bed.”
But Cam moved out from behind him, arms wrapped around herself like armor. “Why don’t we talk about this?”
“You want to talk about it?” My lips twisted into something cruel. I could see my pain reflected in her eyes, and it only made the anger worse. “Okay. Let’s talk. Maybe I wouldn’t have cheated on you if you hadn’t…”
My eyes cut to Trystan. I wanted to wound her the way I was wounded, wanted to make someone else hurt.
“If you finish that fucking sentence…” Trystan’s tone was laced with venom.
He moved past Cam with frightening grace, and I saw it then—he’d actually fight for her. Protect her. From me.
The realization should have cooled my anger. It didn’t. This wasn’t even about her anymore. It was about him. Me and him.
“You’re going to eat your teeth for breakfast,” Trystan promised.
“You cheated on her?” Syn’s voice cut through the chaos. “What the fuck, Owen?”
“Can everyone shut up?” Cam shouted. “Please.”
But I couldn’t. “Fuck this and fuck you, Cam. I’m not really into whores anywa…”
His fist came out of nowhere, and pain exploded through my jaw, stars bursting behind my eyes. I staggered, and then Trystan was on me, both of us crashing to the floor. The hardwood slammed into my back, pushing all the air from my lungs.
Fists flew. His. Mine. Pain bloomed with each impact: my ribs, face, and shoulder. I swung back blindly, connecting with something solid.
I deserved this. I deserved all of it.
Jax’s voice boomed through the chaos, and then Trystan was gone.
“What the fuck is going on?”
I touched my fingertips to my lip, and when I pulled them away, they were red.
My jaw pounded in rhythm with my racing heart.
My gaze collided with Harlow, who was standing behind Syn in the doorway.
Her blue eyes were wide with a what the fuck look written all over her face.
Something in the way she looked at me softened the rage and pulled me back to reality.
“I don’t know what’s going on… but this ends. Now.”
“Then tell your fucking friend not to call my girlfriend a whore,” Trystan spat, still straining against Jax’s grip.
Girlfriend. They didn’t waste any time.
Jax’s gaze swept over all of us as understanding dawned on him. “Wait. Your girlfriend?”
“He fucking cheated on her,” Trystan said.
“Okay,” Jax pushed Trystan back. “Listen, this can’t happen right now. Kaia’s pregnant and already stressed about the wedding. So, all of you need to let whatever this is go for the weekend.”
He paused, his gaze flicking between Trystan and me.
“Do you understand me?”
“Yeah,” I heard myself say. “I got it.” And I did. As far as I was concerned, it was over. Cam was where she belonged.
When Jax dismissed us, I bolted down the stairs and away from the mess that I’d caused.