Confess(89)

I fist my hands in the back of Owen’s shirt, fearing the worst. “What do you want, Trey?” Owen asks. His voice sounds defeated. He’s reached his breaking point with Trey, and that’s not a good thing.

“I just want you out of the f*cking picture,” Trey says. “You’ve been a pain in my ass since the day we met, and you just continue to resurface.” He takes several steps closer, and Owen pushes me further back, still shielding me with his body. “Auburn needs to be a mother to that boy, and he needs me to be his father. As long as you’re brainwashing her, that’ll never happen.” ?Trey looks over Owen’s shoulder, directly at me. “You’ll thank me for this one day, Auburn.”

Trey lifts the radio to his mouth. “En route to precinct six,” Trey says. “Subject in custody for assault on an officer.”

“What?” I yell. “Trey, you can’t do this! He’s on probation!”

Trey ignores me and begins spouting off an address into the radio. Owen turns to face me. “Auburn.” His eyes are serious. Focused. “Tell them whatever he wants you to say. If he’s telling the truth and he really did plant stuff in my studio, I’ll go to jail for a long time. Let them arrest me for assault; it’ll be a much lesser charge. I’ll talk to my father in the morning, and we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

I refuse to agree with what he’s saying. He hasn’t done anything wrong. “If I just tell them the truth, you won’t be in trouble, Owen.”

He closes his eyes and exhales, practicing patience in a situation that warrants none. When he opens his eyes again, they’re somehow even more focused. “He’s angry. Trey knows what happened between us, and he wants his payback. And he’s right. They’ll never believe us over him. Not with my history.”

My eyes begin to burn, and I try to remain as calm as he is right now, but it isn’t working. Especially now that Trey is pulling him away from me. Owen puts his hands behind his back and Trey places the cuffs on them. Owen doesn’t even resist, and I’m crying too hard to try to stop it.

I follow them down the stairs, across the studio, and out the front door to Trey’s police car. He shoves Owen in the backseat and then turns to face me. He opens the front passenger door. “Get in, Auburn. I’ll give you a ride home.”

I get in, but only because there is no way in hell I’m allowing Owen to spend another day in jail that he doesn’t deserve.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO



Owen

I’m quiet. So is she.

I know that neither of us is speaking right now because we’re trying to figure out a way to get out of this. There has to be a way for her to get her son and not have to go through Trey to do it. And there has to be a way for me to get out of the situation Trey has just put me in without it affecting Auburn and her relationship with AJ.

I watch from the backseat as she turns her attention to Trey.

“What do you think is going to happen now?” she asks him. “You think I’m just going to forget the fact that you attacked me? That you destroyed Owen’s studio? That you’re framing him?”

Don’t, Auburn. Don’t make him even angrier.

He turns to face her, and she doesn’t back down, even through his silence.

“I’ll never love you like I loved Adam.”

As soon as the words come out of her mouth, he jerks the car over to the side of the road. He lunges forward across the seat and squeezes her jaw, bringing his face inches from hers.

“I’m not Adam. I’m Trey. And I suggest if you want to continue being the half-assed mother you are to my nephew, you’ll say whatever the f*ck I tell you to say.”

A tear slides down her cheek. My fists are clenched, and I want to beat on the barrier in order to get him to release her, but I can’t. My hands are cuffed behind my back and I can’t do a goddamn thing from this backseat to stop him. I bring my feet up and start kicking his seat.

“Get your hands off her!”

Trey doesn’t move. He continues to hold on to her jaw until she gives in and nods. He releases her and slides back to his side of the seat.

She glances at me from her position in the passenger seat, and I’ve never felt more helpless. I see the roll of her throat as she swallows.

She pulls her knees up to her chest, and her tears begin to fall even harder. Her head rests against the back of the seat while her back is pressed against the passenger door. I can see just how much pain she’s in. How scared she is. I scoot closer to her and press my forehead against the glass, trying to get as close to her as I can. I look at her reassuringly, wanting her to know that whatever happens, we’re in this together. She keeps her eyes locked with mine until we pull into the police station.