Broken Beautiful Hearts(100)

Owen stares at the floor. “Except me.”

“What about surgery?”

“There’s only one. A surgeon attaches this thing they call a shock box to my heart. It’s sort of like a pacemaker, but it works differently. If my heart stops, the box shocks it so it will start beating again.”

Thank god there’s a solution. “When can you get one?”

“I don’t want one.”

Is he serious? “Why not?”

“I’d never be able to compete again, or play contact sports, run long distances—”

“So what? You get to live.”

“I’m not sure I want to live that way. That’s why I’m not having the surgery.”

Reality hits me and I finally hear him.

Owen, the guy I’m crazy about—who is only six months older than me—is going to die. And not when he’s eighty or ninety or a hundred.

And I’ll never see him again.

Like Dad.

I take his face in my hands.

When we slept together, I shared myself with him in ways I never had with anyone else. But I didn’t share my heart with him that night.

He already had it.

He had it the moment we became friends—and our friendship is more important to me than anything.

“You can’t die, because your mom needs you. Tucker and Cutter and Lazarus need you.” I tilt his face toward mine. “I need you.”

“I need you, too. But I didn’t think about how selfish it was to let you get attached to me.”

I cock my head to the side and smile. “Who says I’m attached to you? Maybe I’m just using you for your body.”

He pulls me in for a hug. “I’m okay with that.”

Owen holds me tighter, as if I’m the life preserver that’s keeping him from drowning. He doesn’t realize I can’t save him—because I’m full of holes and I’m drowning, too.

The bell rings and we head out to the parking lot.

Christian and Cam see us and they rush to catch up, but they hang back and give us some privacy. They’ve been following me around all day like bodyguards.

“You’re gonna be late for practice,” I call out to them.

“You let us worry about practice,” Christian says.

Owen hitches his thumbs in his pockets. “Are they following you because of me? They don’t think I’d ever—because I wouldn’t. Never.”

Clearly I’m not the only one who thinks my cousins look like bodyguards. The last thing I want is for Owen to think it’s because of him.

“It has nothing to do with you. They don’t think that, and I don’t think that. They’re worried I’m going to have some kind of breakdown. They were following me around the kitchen this morning, too.”

Owen nods. “Good. I mean, not about following you, but I’m glad they know I’d never hurt you. You know that, too, right?”

“I do.”

“I wish I’d known you when it happened, so I could’ve done something. Because I sure as hell didn’t do anything in the cage.”

“That’s not true. Reed messed with your head. You’re a better fighter than he is.”

“It doesn’t matter now. He won. I lost. It’s over.”

“It’s my fault.”

“Don’t say that.” Owen touches my arm. “Please. Come on. None of this is your fault. I understand why you didn’t tell me.”

I stop next to Cam’s truck.

“I can drive you to the Y,” Owen offers. “I have my car.”

“It’s okay. I’m not sure I feel like going today. Not because of you. It’s just been a rough couple of days.” Without you.

All of a sudden, I get a strange feeling someone’s watching me. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I felt the same way the night outside the mill.

Christian and Cameron pick up their paces and catch up with us.

“What the hell is that piece of shit doing here?” Cam asks.

My gut tells me he’s talking about Reed before I see him. He’s standing on the sidewalk in front of the parking lot—technically not on school grounds. TJ and Billy are with him, pushing and shoving each other like idiots. Reed isn’t the only one who has put on a lot of muscle quickly.

“I don’t know what he’s doing here, but I’m going to find out,” Owen says.

I grab the sleeve of Owen’s jacket. “Let’s just leave.”

Grace squeezes between Christian and Cameron, but there’s no way the two of us can keep my cousins and Owen under control.

“Peyton’s right,” Grace says. “Let’s go. She doesn’t have anything to say to him, and neither do we.”

“I’ve got plenty to say to his friend,” Cam says, zeroing in on TJ. “And I’m gonna tell him while I’m pounding him into the ground.”

“Please don’t do this,” I beg. “Reed is just trying to get a rise out of you guys. I have no idea what he’s up to, but I promise you it isn’t good.”

The three guys keep walking. Reed narrows his eyes when he sees me with Owen. It’s subtle, but I know that look. He’s angry, even if he doesn’t want anyone to know it.