14. Nicole
NICOLE
My head is spinning. I don’t know what just happened. One minute I was dangling from the wall, gasping for breath, and the next I’m being bundled into a car with Teresa getting in the one behind us declaring she was ‘done with this shitehole anyway.’
I’m acutely aware that I’m in a car with Owen—and only Owen. That he just saved my arse, and paid a hell of a lot of money to make sure I was and will stay safe. I’m also running his words over and over in my mind. She’s mine.
Did he mean it? Did he just say it for effect? It sounded like he meant it, but I’m still a little hazy. I shift nervously in my seat and wince when I move my neck slightly.
“Are you in pain? I can take you to a doctor.”
I flick a quick glance at his features. His jaw is clenched tightly and I can see it ticking through his stubble. His trademark frown is firmly in place, but when he turns slightly and catches me looking, his piercing blue eyes are filled with kindness.
“No, it’s just a little tender. I hope I don’t have bruises. How will I explain that to Lucky?” I reach up and lower the sun visor in the car and flip the little flap that hides the vanity mirror so I can examine my neck. It’s a huge red mess, but thankfully there aren't any bruises yet.
“Teresa said she’ll look after Lucky tonight and Edie will pick him up from his playdate. Brady has a little cottage on his property. He built it for when Edie’s mum wanted to stay with them. Teresa can stay there until we find her a place that's safe.”
Guilt washes over me with his words. “She has to move because of me. Fuck. I’m sorry. I should’ve dealt with this better.” I flip the visor back up, unable to look myself in the eye after the mess I made of everything.
“Yes, you should’ve. You should have told me about it and we could have sorted this without you getting hurt.” His voice is determined and filled with concern.
“But it’s not your job, Owen. You’re Lucky’s dad.
Your role is to look after him. Not me. You’ve already done more for me than you should’ve.
You agreed to the articles when you could’ve easily said no.
You could've taken Lucky from me, but instead you moved both of us into your house and… I’m so sorry, Owen.
” I turn in my seat to look out the window and watch the scenery blur past us, tears falling from my eyes at the guilt and pain I’ve caused.
I don’t expect him to speak but he reaches over and grabs my hand. “I meant what I said.”
I turn to look at him, not sure if the words he whispered were real or if I imagined them. He keeps his focus solely on the road but never lets go of my hand.
The silence is palpable for the rest of the drive home, and I try to hide my sniffles from him. Confusion grips me when I realise only our car pulls into the driveway.
“Where’s Teresa, Jaxson, and the guys? I thought they were going to come here first. I wanted to thank them and apologise.”
Instead of answering me, he steps out and around the car and opens my door. He reaches over me and unclips my seatbelt, grabs my hand, and pulls me out of my seat.
“Owen, what are you doing?”
As he drags me up the front steps to the entrance of his house, he still says nothing. He opens the door, slams it shut behind me, and drags me up the stairs, where he stops outside of the bedrooms. Glancing from mine to his, he looks at each closed wooden door, unsure of which room to enter.
Before I can ask what’s going on again, he barges into my room and slams the door shut.
“Owen, what are you doing?” My voice is desperate, needing to get an insight into his thoughts.
“Brady said something that made me laugh today.”
I frown in confusion at him, because this is not what I was expecting his first words to be.
“He asked if everyone but you knew you were my girl. I laughed, because, with all your journalistic intuition, you should know it. But it seems you don’t. We all know you’re mine, Nico. When are you going to get it into your head?”
He takes a step closer to me but I shake my head and turn away from him.
“I don’t need you to do this, Owen. I can’t be a quick convenient fuck to you.
Lucky needs us both. Let’s be real here, you wouldn’t want me if it wasn’t for him.
” I walk toward my ensuite, but he grabs my elbow and spins me around to face him, his jaw set and his eyes blazing.
“Really? Then why did I want you the first time I saw you? Why did I still need you, even though I thought you screwed me over? Every time I went to a press conference or a red carpet event, why did I scan the press section looking for you if I didn’t crave you?
And why, when Emilia said your name, did my heart beat properly for the first time in five years?
Tell me. Why haven’t I been able to get Whiskey Girl out of my head and my heart after all this time?
Explain to me why, when I’m this close to you, does it feel like everything is right in the world?
That I’m where I’m meant to be. That I’m living and not just existing.
If you're not my girl, why does it feel like you are in here?”
He takes my hand and places it over his heart, and the rapid beating matches my own as I take a gulp of air into my lungs.
“Owen…” I try to reply, but his words have left me speechless.
“Don’t tell me how I feel, Nico. I’ve spent six years feeling nothing.
Being numb. The only time I ever felt anything was when I was with you.
That time we spent together meant everything to me, and I’m so fucking sorry I screwed it up.
But trust me, you took my heart with you when you left and only now do I feel whole again.
With you here, in my arms. My Whiskey Girl. So tell me, Nico, do you know it yet?”