Chapter 36

THIRTY-SIX

Owen

" H e left me."

He.

Left.

Me.

"What?" Oliver asks, and I'm not sure I'm making any sense.

I don't know what I've even said out loud. "Colin."

"That motherfucker. Because Cassie is safe? He just up and left you?!" Oliver's tone fills with quiet rage, and I know where it's going.

"Don't you fucking dare. I need to know where he went. I have to go talk to him."

"What did he say to you? I will kill him."

"Oliver!" My tone must have shut him down.

He exhales aggressively. "I'll have my doorman call around and see if he went to a hotel or home."

"He wouldn't have gone home." At least I didn't think he would. His parents are horrid.

"People do all kinds of things in high emotional states. You sure?"

"I don't know." Do I really know Colin at all?

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" Oliver asks after a moment of silence.

"How did you know?"

"I've never seen you stand up to me for anyone. It made me proud."

I barely hold back a sob. "Thank you."

"I'd say gross, but since I'm in love, I can't really judge." Oliver pauses before going on. "Does he love you?"

"I don't know." I hate not knowing and he left so easily.

"You're looking for him when you don't know?"

"I have to find out. I can't just let him go. He's everything." I'm barely keeping my emotions in check.

Oliver sighs. "I understand. I'll see if I can locate him. Hang tight."

What feels like hours pass, and when my phone buzzes, I snatch it knowing it's got to be Oliver with an update.

"Hello?"

"He's at the hospital."

"What?"

"He was taken from his parent's building to the hospital in an ambulance."

"Which hospital?" I ask, heart pounding so loud in my ears I can barely hear him.

"I've sent a car to get you. Isaac and I are on our way."

Thankfully, at this time of night there isn't much traffic, and I get to the hospital quickly. I show ID, and they lead me back to the room Colin is in.

He's a fucking mess.

"Colin." I barely manage the word. I'm going to fucking kill his father. I just fucking know.

"Owen?" Tears stream down his cheeks, and I walk over to him, but he flinches. "Please don't."

I freeze. I can't read him. I don't know what he wants. "Who did this to you?"

He shakes his head.

"Who did this to you?" I ask again, but I know the answer.

"Owen, please just?—"

"Who the fuck did this to you?" I'm shaking, I'm so angry.

"It doesn't matter." Colin won't meet my eyes, but his non-answer is enough.

"I love you." I cut him off, and the words seem to leave him speechless. "Is he stable?" I ask the nurse who just walked in to see what is going on.

She nods. "Yes. He's waiting on a doctor to come give him stitches, but his CT looks good?—"

"Isaac will be here soon. I'll be back." I turn on my heel and march out of the room. He may not love me, he may not want me, he may not even choose to be with me ever again, but I won't let anyone fucking hurt him.

I stroll into the building like I own the place. "I'm here to see Mr. Covington."

"Is he expecting you?" the doorman asks.

"If he's not, he should be."

"I'll call up and—" As he picks up the phone, I press the button to hang it up.

"If you don't let me up, you'll have my brother to deal with."

"Yes, sir." He walks me over to the elevator to use his card for their floor.

I step out into the foyer when the doors pull back, glancing around the dark space. "Tacky."

I walk through silent halls, knowing the area an office should be based on the building and its views and how most other similar apartments would be laid out, easily finding it. He's there, sitting behind his desk sipping a drink, knuckles bruised.

I push the door wider, drawing his attention.

"Mr. Godfrey." Mr. Covington is on his feet. "You must know?—"

"Don't fucking speak." My words are barely a whisper.

"I'm sure we can work something?—"

I cut him off again. "Another word and you will regret it."

He keeps his drink in his hand but doesn't sit back down.

I pick up the bottle from his bar. "Nice vintage. A fifty-six single malt. Shame to waste it." I crack the bottle on his ugly wood bookshelf, spraying the liquor down the front of the dark stained wood, watching it drip to the floor before I turn on him.

"Put the drink down and face me like a man, or I'll gut you like a pig."

"You wouldn't…"

I grin. "I fucking would, and I'll get off too. Because you started this, and I'm just a poor mentally ill guy whose husband you put in the hospital. I'm not even worried about it. That's if they find the body. My brother would do anything for me, including hide a body. As far as I know, you ran off with your mistress."

He sets the glass down and steps around the desk. He's bigger than I am, but I've been fighting guys bigger than me my entire life, and Oliver taught me to fight dirty. Part of what drew me to fencing in the first place. And now with all the muscle I've put on, I'm going to beat him into a pulp.

I roll up my sleeves while he hovers in the middle of his office. The waiting is making him crazy, which delights me. "How many times did you hit my husband?"

"I don't know." He's telling the truth.

I turn on him, calm, twisting my head to crack my neck before I stride over and deck him. He goes down like a little bitch, but I'm not through. I pick him up by his shirt, making him get to his feet and hit him again and again in the face. He tries to fight back, but it's of little use. I don't even feel his punches. I'm too worked up.

My coach is going to kill me if I break a hand, but in that moment, I don't care if I ever fence again. I hit him until he can't stand. Until there is blood running down his face, from his nose and lips and cheek.

I release him and let him drop to the floor before I rear back and kick him in the ribs. I get a couple more shots in and then lean over his pathetic balled form and spit on him.

"If you ever fucking even look in Colin's direction again, I will gouge your eyes out."

He doesn't reply.

"Do you fucking understand me?"

He grunts a yes, and I leave.