Chapter 49 Forty Nine
AMELIA XAVIER
Should I start from yesterday when Owen Winters promised to be home or the part where I waited till I fell asleep? Or maybe how the sun was at the highest stage of the day and how he failed to come home.
12:00 pm
It was noon and Owen wasn't home — only the scent of his absence hung in the air. I waited for my intuition to tell me something, but my mind was blocked from every possibility that could have happened to him; murder, kidnap… mention. None of those possibilities crossed my mind and unlike me, panic never settled in.
For Christ sake, he's Owen Winters! What would possibly happen to him?
My inner voice screamed at me as I sat on the sofa trying so hard to focus on whatever was playing on the TV.
Just then, I heard the door click shut suddenly feeling the presence of someone, and by the heaviness of the shoes as it hit the floor, I was certain of who it could be.
Owen Winters.
Even if my body so badly wanted to run towards him, whack him in the head with my gun and kiss the fuck out of him, my mind begged to differ so I sat still and waited till he called my name.
“Pumpkin. Pumpkin I'm sorry…” he started, walking towards me. I scoffed and pretended as though the show playing seemed more important than his pleading.
SpongeBob.
Of course every fucked up human watched it. “Pumpkin I'm…”
“You're what Owen? You promised to be home before dark and I don't care whatever shit you were doing whether it involved murdering someone or getting yourself high, you would've done what you promised!”
What if something happened to you? I wanted to add, but thank God it didn't slip.
I focused on the screen rather than on his ice coloured eyes or his suit as it graved his body.
“I'm ready, I'm ready… I'm ready to do nothing!” Patrick Star yelled, flopped on the ground and began snoring.
I sighed, finally looking into his eyes, they were begging me to accept his apologies and by gawd, I wanted to do that, but I didn't.
When something one doesn't expect happens, it leaves the person so surprised they wished they had foreshadowed it or that it would happen again.
Owen knelt on both knees and tugged at my legs. “You have all the right to be angry, Amelia, but please don't be too mad at me. I'll make sure to be home earlier,” he said and yet again even though he hadn't, his eyes held so much hurled up emotions that I felt scared of the day they would finally burst open. Owen Winters was so fucked up, but didn't know how fucked he was.
A smile plastered on my face and I kissed his cheeks, they were warm and tasted metallic like… blood. My eyes flashed with surprise then worry.
Were we safe?
“I forgive you, dick head, just don't do it again and… let's play the five question game after you've showered and I've made lunch,” I replied trying to stand, but he stopped me with a light push at my breast. “I'll make anything you want, just relax and take care of our baby,” he said, his expression changing from relief to excitement.
Our baby.
Of course, protecting the baby was my top priority. Something I loved doing and strangely found peace in. I flashed a soft smile at him and ruffled his hair.
“Cute.”
I sat crossed legs on the bed, a blanket wrapped around me and of course coffee.
“You're not angry about the hole?” I asked, looking at the wall in pity. Owen chuckled and shook his head. “I'm a regular customer, so it's not bad.” I laughed while taking a little too much coffee, it was hot.
“So… so a five question game, is it?” I asked sucking in air to reduce the bruise on my tongue. “Yes, start,” he said, smiling widely at me. I rolled my eyes, half wondering what he was thinking and half knowing the answer to that. “Well… I'll ask about your sex life. I'm guessing you've had so many women, yes?” I asked and he shrugged.
“What can I say, yes, Amelia. Yes, I have,” he answered, taking a sip of his coffee.
My heart broke, but then again, I realized how much of a terrible liar Owen was. Three truths, two lies.
“Ask.”
“Did you ever have a boyfriend?” He inquired, staring intently at something in his coffee, maybe the sugar or something else. It was my turn to shrug. “Yes, he had brown eyes and was studying medicine then,” I answered waiting for one of his many remarks.
“You're lying, you went to art school and medicine? You hated the smell of drugs,” he scoffed and God knew how much I wanted to slap that smirk off his handsome face.
“My turn, do you love me?”
Owen Winters was a complicated man, one time, he'd be all lovey dovey then the next, his eyes glistened like the devil himself. But this time, his eyes looked empty and his expression held no emotion. “It depends on what you're really asking, Amelia. My turn-” he glanced at me and I saw his lips crack into a bruised smile. “- why do you want to join the mafia knowing how dangerous it is?” He asked.
I wished I could do that expression, but I couldn't, so instead I answered with a smile. “The same reason you don't want to leave, Owen.” He rolled his eyes letting out a sigh.
“Do you have a past you want to forget?” I asked quickly, leaving no room for self thought. The game must go on. “No. I want to remember all that shit, pumpkin. Memories make someone a human after all,” he answered in the same pace.
Lie. Why the fuck did he lie?
“You're wrong, we have one or two things we want to forget, but whatever, it's your turn,” I remarked.
“Why do you try so hard to please that man, I mean your father?” He inquired knowing he had touched the right spot, but we both knew I would end up lying which I did. “I'm not pleasing him.”
Owen bit his lower lip knowing I evaded the question. “Let's get the mood lighter, oui?” I said and he laughed at my terrible accent. “How many women have Owen Winters had fun with?” I cooed, finishing my coffee. “A lot, mostly for business though, and the fact…fuck, I'm a total red flag,” he answered slapping his face. I giggled. “Forgive me, pumpkin. Trust me, I'm a changed man, but it's my turn to ask, what are you really scared of?”
This man knew how to ask the deepest questions in the most direct manner, but since I wasted my lie, there was no choice but to tell the truth.
“I'm scared of a lot of things. I'm scared everyone would leave… I'm scared knowing something is out there, coming for us…” I let my voice trail because I said too much. Owen said nothing.
It was better that way.
“So I'll ask, are you using me?” The question startled me the same way it did to him. What happened when one's mind and body were never in sync? They'll end up spilling nonsense.
Owen laughed. “I'll prefer you use me, darling,” he said huskily, sending strange currents like shivers down to my toes. “Ask, dick head!” I snapped wiggling my toes to ensure they were still in use.
“Do you feel safe around me, Amelia? Do you trust me?” They were two questions in one, but I didn't mind. The answers came easily. “Who else should I trust if not you.”
I made the first move by throwing myself at him and kissing him. He held my waist tightly so that I felt it would break at any minute. “Let's go out tonight. Get dressed,” he whispered into my ears and I felt thrilled.
Sweet night.
“Let's go somewhere and we ended up in a bar, yes, Mr Winters,” I remarked, clicking my tongue at him. “Paris and spirit are one. We love our wine!” He shrugged at his failed attempt in lightening my mood.
We entered the bar and the smell of strong alcohol and cigarettes reeked through my nose making me wrinkle them. I sighted most mafia men and gangsters, some were playing snooker and the rest with their women — they were about three women for each man.
“Do you usually come here?” I asked, but he shrugged. “Yes, for business. The men here are good for business especially when, you know, the women are doing their thing on them,” he answered, ushering me a seat. “So, you're here for work?”
He shook his head and asked for wine. “You won't drink. The baby… you're not even meant to be here. Maybe we should leave,” he said and made to stand.
Owen probably brought me here because I wanted to be in the mafia, and that was the kind of shit they did. He was either discouraging or encouraging me, but then, he seemed more worried about the baby.
“Owen Winters! Long time no see,” someone called walking towards us. She was a blonde and had the tiniest waist I had seen in twenty one years. Her curves were in the right place and her make up… pretty girls were a threat.
“Meg! It's been long, three years tops, I guess,” he replied and kissed her fingers. “You're always a gentleman, I wonder why my charms didn't work on you,” she flirted shamelessly.
Am I invisible?
“This is Amelia Xavier, you should know her,” he introduced. Not even a glance was thrown at me.
The so-called Meg eyed me up and took my hand for a shake. “The great Dylan Xavier's daughter, nice to meet you. I'm Meg, really, it's a pleasure,” she hissed and I saw clearly the disgust written all over her face. She turned to face Owen and sat beside him crossing her legs. “After our mission, I went for a two year break in Dubai, then rebelled against my father and travelled to England, just came back to Paris yesterday,” she discussed, placing her hand on his lap.
Owen did nothing.
Anger should be different from every other emotion. It was a unique trait and one could have it in born. I scoffed watching her play the role of a mistress with my man
My man?
Whatever Owen Winters was to me, the goddamned woman was doing a very good job at taking that away. I looked at the time.
9:30 pm.
I sighed and stood to leave, since nobody gave me the right attention I needed. Since Owen was so engrossed in his conversation. He finally glanced up at me but it was already late. I stormed out of the club without a word.
“Hello pre…” I shoved the man who made an attempt to touch me aside. Irritation spread through my skin creating goosebumps.
I stood outside suddenly feeling cold.
Why did I wear something this short?
“Amy…” a voice said behind me, but I stood there, hands folded under my arms. Owen walked towards me and I felt his hands on my shoulders. I shuddered.
“What's the matter, Amy?”
“Let's go home,” I muttered, hating this feeling.
“Amy…”
“Let's just fucking go home, Owen,” I snapped hiding the jealousy in my voice. He nodded and we entered the car.
We drove home in silence. The kind of silence that no one dared to break and till we got home, did Owen Winters speak.
“Is it Meg? She was a…”
“A partner just like me, and let me guess, she's one of the women you fucked, right?!” I interrupted flaring at him.
“Pumpkin…”
“Don't, Owen, goodnight,” I said and walked away into the house.
I sat on the sofa staring at the ceiling, tears clouded my vision as it became hazy. Emotions were something only trained people could handle, but no matter how trained I was, I never handled them well.
A hand touched my shoulders from behind, but I didn't fret. The hands were soft on me and smooth. “That won't make me better,” I told him, but my heart screamed in ecstasy.
Fucking mind and body.
“I'm sorry, I got carried away and I guess I'm new with all this so…” he muttered softly into my ears. He knew what he did — trying to get me to fall for his tricks of ecstasy.
Owen caressed my shoulders, his hands trailed gently to my breast as he planted a kiss on my lips. “Forgive me.”
“Or fuck you,” I scoffed crossing my legs to keep myself from doing the unimaginable.
“Whatever you want, I'll do anything,” he groaned sweetly.
“No”
No?