Chapter 5 Stay Away

"What are you doing here?" I asked, way too sharply.

"Picking up dinner." Constantine pointed toward a server carrying two large bags of takeout containers. "Want to come back over and eat with Catori and me?"

Oh wow.

Catori was still there.

Nope.

Definitely not interrupting whatever she had planned for him.

I shook my head.

Then an arm wrapped around my shoulders.

Owen.

Asshole.

I shoved him off immediately.

"Asshole," I muttered.

My brother laughed.

Everyone else laughed too.

"They really hate each other," Melanie said.

I rolled my eyes.

"She hates everyone," Luka replied over the rim of his whiskey glass.

Just then, three blonde women walked past our table.

Owen's head turned so fast I thought his neck might snap.

Unbelievable.

"Man whore."

His eyes immediately found mine again.

"Better than just a whore."

The world went red.

Pure rage.

Instant.

Blinding.

My blood boiled so fast I couldn't think.

One second I was standing there.

The next—

Crack.

My palm connected with his face.

Hard.

The sound echoed through the lounge.

Pain shot through my hand.

For a moment, everything else disappeared.

The music.

The conversations.

The people.

All I could see was Owen standing there with one hand against his cheek.

The bright red outline of my fingers already forming on his skin.

Sure, I'd called him a man whore.

But that wasn't the same thing.

Not even close.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then reality slowly returned.

Lazar was standing.

One hand inside his jacket.

Like he was about to pull his gun.

A criminal pretending to be a knight in shining armor.

Constantine immediately grabbed his wrist.

"They're always like this."

My brother sighed.

"She's fine. Calm down, Markovic."

Lazar slowly lowered his hand.

His shoulders never relaxed.

Neither did mine.

Owen still hadn't spoken.

Not a single word.

But the look on his face told me everything.

He knew he'd crossed a line.

Good.

I pulled out my phone.

Blocked his number.

Then slipped it back into my pocket.

"I'm done."

I grabbed my handbag.

"Call me about that project," I told Eve.

Then I looked around the table.

"Have a good night, guys."

Everyone stared.

Still stunned.

Nobody seemed sure what to say.

Constantine followed me outside.

The desert heat hit immediately despite the sun already setting.

The clubhouse doors slammed open behind us.

Owen.

He looked like he'd run a marathon.

"I am sorry."

His voice cracked.

"That was too far."

I ignored him.

"Good night, Constantine."

My brother looked between us. Then laughed. Actually laughed.

"Night, Kat."

He climbed into his car and set the takeout bags on the passenger seat.

I started toward my SUV.

"Kat."

Owen's voice followed me.

I kept walking.

"Katia."

I stopped.

Damn it.

Slowly, I turned around.

The handprint on his cheek was impossible to miss. His stupidly handsome face looked wrecked.

Ugh.

I annoyed myself.

"You don't exist to me anymore."

The words came out colder than ice.

Three blonde women exited the clubhouse behind him.

Their laughter carried across the parking lot.

Like clockwork, Owen's eyes flicked toward them.

I barked out a laugh.

"You are such a fucking dog."

His gaze immediately returned to me.

Too late.

Way too late.

I climbed into my SUV and peeled out of the parking lot like I was fleeing a crime scene.

The anger followed me all the way home.

Burning.

Refusing to cool.

In the rear-view mirror, Owen remained exactly where I'd left him.

Standing alone.

Watching me drive away.

What was it about that man?

Why did he create an entire hurricane inside my chest?

On the way home, I stopped at Brownies.

A small dispensary tucked into a shopping center.

Twenty minutes later, I was carrying a pack of pre-rolled joints.

Maybe weed could accomplish what common sense apparently couldn't.

Back at the penthouse, I dumped my golf clubs in storage.

Grabbed a beer from the fridge.

Then headed for the balcony.

Still wearing my golf clothes.

Still angry.

The tabletop fireplace flickered to life.

Vegas glittered below me.

Thousands of lights.

Thousands of strangers.

From this high up, everyone looked like tiny bugs.

I lit the joint.

Took a drag.

Immediately started coughing.

Then laughing.

Perfect.

I leaned back in my chair.

The anger remained.

Waiting beneath the surface.

"Is that weed?"

Shit.

Dad.

I tried hiding it instinctively.

Like I was sixteen instead of twenty-two.

His booming laugh echoed across the balcony.

I started laughing too.

Some of the tension loosened in my chest.

I took another drag.

Then handed it to him.

He took it.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

Dad laughed.

"If you hurt Mom again, I will kill you."

I pointed at him.

He handed the joint back.

"I'm done doing that. I've been seeing your mother again for a while now."

My eyes widened.

My hand immediately snapped in his direction.

I had seen Mom with Mason.

But him too?

The wheels in my angry little head started turning.

Full speed.

Straight into a fucking wall.

"Dad..." I hesitated. "Are you and Mason seeing Mom?"

He laughed at my expression.

I pointed harder.

"Are you into guys too?"

A beat passed.

"Nope. You know what? Never mind." I waved both hands. "I don't want to know."

His laughter boomed across the balcony.

"Something like that," he admitted.

I leaned back in my chair and thought about it.

Mom had been happy.

Really happy.

The kind of happy that glowed.

The kind that made her laugh more.

Smile more.

Hearing your mother cry was one of the worst sounds in the world.

I didn't miss those days.

I never wanted them back.

"It's fine with me." I shrugged. "You have my seal of approval to be disgusting around me."

Dad barked out another laugh.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked. "I can feel the anger rolling off you all the way from the elevator."

I took a long pull from the joint.

Should I tell him?

Maybe he would kill Owen.

Then I could finally be done with that asshole.

Except...

That wasn't what I wanted at all.

The worst part?

I already missed the knucklehead.

Maybe I should take a page out of Constantine's book and go see a therapist.

"Owen," I admitted, letting out a long breath. "He drives me fucking mad. I want to strangle him."

Dad leaned back in his chair.

The balcony door slid open.

Mom walked outside carrying a glass of wine.

She smiled when she saw him.

A real smile.

Soft.

Happy.

She rested a hand on his shoulder.

Dad immediately covered it with his own.

The sight made something warm settle in my chest.

My mother was a damn saint.

He had hurt her more than once and she still let him back in.

Not me.

I would never.

Mom looked between us.

"Oh, are we talking about Owen again?"

I groaned.

Dad laughed.

"I was wondering when the teasing would turn into something else."

I sat up so fast I nearly dropped my beer.

"Excuse me?"

Dad ignored me.

"You two have been exchanging those looks for years."

My mouth fell open.

"What looks?"

Mom smiled over the rim of her wine glass.

"The looks."

"There are no looks."

Both of them stared at me.

Dad rubbed his chin.

"I think I first noticed it when you were a teen."

My head snapped toward him.

"Absolutely not."

Mom laughed.

"Tell her."

"Tell me what?" I demanded.

Dad sighed heavily.

"Thanksgiving."

My stomach immediately dropped.

Oh no.

"Do you remember when Owen was showing you that video game?"

I looked away.

Unfortunately, I remembered.

"You two were alone in the living room."

"We were playing a game."

Dad snorted. "Sure."

Heat rushed into my face.

"It wasn't like that."

"It looked like that."

My father shook his head.

"He had his arms around you."

My stomach dropped even farther.

"I wanted to kill him."

Mom rolled her eyes.

"You always want to kill someone."

"I especially wanted to kill him."

I pointed at Dad.

"See? Finally. Somebody with common sense."

Neither of my parents laughed.

That should have worried me.

Instead, I took another hit from the joint.

Dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I pulled him aside after that."

My smile disappeared.

"What?"

"I told him to stop touching you."

The haze in my brain cleared instantly.

Dad's jaw tightened.

"He was a grown man."

I swallowed.

"He was twenty-four. You were... you."

Mom nodded slowly beside him.

"I agreed with your father."

My pulse started to pick up.

I wasn't sure why.

Maybe because both of them suddenly looked serious.

Maybe because neither of them seemed amused anymore.

"What did he say?" I asked quietly.

Dad looked out over the Vegas skyline.

The lights reflected in his dark eyes.

For a long moment, he didn't answer.

Then he laughed once.

A short, humorless sound.

"When I confronted him, I thought he was going to deny it."

My stomach twisted.

"But he didn't."

Mom's eyes softened.

Dad looked directly at me.

"He looked me right in the face and told me something that almost got him thrown through our living room window."

My heart stopped.

"Dad..."

His mouth twitched.

"He told me he couldn't stay away from you."