Owen: The Lost Breed MC #9

by Parker, Ali

  “Nah.” I waved a hand. “I’d like to surprise her. Keep those sneaky fingers of yours away from that phone.”

  Barry had been reaching for his phone to dial up to Evangeline’s suite. He let his arm fall to his side. “Of course, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  I leaned on the desk. “You could at least pretend to not despise my coming here so much. You know. A smile here and there really wins people’s favor.”

  Barry stared at me blankly.

  I laughed. “I’m fucking with you, man. Lighten up.”

  His mouth twitched in what I could only assume was an attempt at a smile. “Very funny, sir.”

  “I thought so.” I shrugged.

  Barry stared at me, and I stared back.

  “All right,” I said, slapping my hand flat on the counter. Poor Barry nearly jumped out of his skin. He must not have had much experience with men like me. He was used to the suits and the polished shoes and the flashy watches. I was a whole new breed of trouble and menace in his eyes. “Catch you around, Barry.”

  “Good evening, Mr. McCully.”

  I sauntered over to the elevators, jabbed the button, and waited for one of them to open up for me. I didn’t have to wait long. The building was massive and had four elevators. I stepped on after a young couple stepped off, and I pressed the button for the fiftieth floor once I was inside.

  On the ride up, my phone started ringing. It was Rhys. I answered the call, surprised I still had service in an elevator shaft. “Hey, man. What’s going on?”

  “Hey, brother,” Rhys said. “You got plans tonight? Quinn and I are having a couple of folks over for drinks and dinner.”

  “Let me get back to you. I’m on my way to see Evangeline right now. If I’m not with her tonight, I’ll swing by.”

  “Oh, no worries. We’ll be your last resort. I see how it is.”

  I snorted. “Like you wouldn’t do the same with Quinn?”

  Rhys chuckled. “Yeah. You got me there. See you when I see you, brother.”

  I rode the elevator up to the top of the building and found myself standing in front of Evangeline’s door.

  I chastised myself for not bringing flowers or something.

  I had to step up my game at some point. She was probably used to being waited on by men with a lot of money to spend, and there was no doubt in my mind that they would spend it on her. If I was in their shoes, I most certainly would.

  Flowerless, I knocked on her door and waited.

  I waited a long time. A whole minute and a half maybe. Then I knocked again.

  The door opened a crack, and Evangeline peered around the edge of the door with one eye. “Hi, Owen.”

  “Hey,” I said, leaning to the side to try to get a better look at her. “How are you?”

  “I’m all right,” she said. Her voice was thinner than usual, almost hoarse. Her nose was pink, and her cheeks were flushed, and her lips looked a little swollen.

  I almost asked if she’d been crying but thought better of it.

  Instead, I asked, “What are your plans for tonight? I’ve missed you all week, and I was thinking it might be nice if the two of us could grab dinner together.”

  Evangeline wrapped her fingers around the edge of the door and looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry, Owen. I’m not feeling well. I think I’m just going to stay in tonight.”

  “Is it the flu?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Your stomach?”

  “I don’t know,” she said a little more firmly, meeting my stare. “I kind of just want to be alone tonight. You understand, don’t you?”

  I nodded and rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I do. Can I run out and grab you something? Soup? Ginger ale? Crackers? Whatever you need, I can bring it back for you and—”

  “I’m fine, Owen. Thank you. I just want to sleep this off.”

  I was still nodding like an idiot. “Okay. I’ll call and check in on you in the morning. I hope you feel better.”

  “Thanks,” she said, and then she pushed the door closed and left me standing there like a fool staring at it, wondering what the hell just happened.

  She didn’t look or sound sick. And she’d had a full face of makeup on. And she was dressed nicely.

  Something wasn’t adding up. I’d seen Evangeline sick, and she wasn’t one of those women who just trooped her way through it like a boss. She liked to get cozy in her favorite pair of PJs and matching slippers, and she’d drink cups and cups of green tea while watching movies on her sofa cuddled under a blanket.

  She was certainly not sick.

  So what the hell was that all about?

  As I walked back to the elevator, I racked my brain trying to recall if I’d done something wrong. Was she upset about something?

  We hadn’t seen each other all week, and we’d only talked over the phone. What could I have said that would make her suddenly want to put up a wall like this?

  I jabbed the elevator button and slid my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket.

  No, I was fairly certain there was nothing I’d said to elicit this cold response from her. Perhaps it had nothing to do with me. Perhaps something else was going on.

  If someone else had hurt her, they had better hope I never found out about it.

  I grimaced.

  My old tendencies were bubbling to the surface at the first sign of trouble. That wasn’t a good reaction. I had to keep my cool. Play it off nice and easy.

  It might be nothing.

  Maybe she had only just suddenly started to feel unwell, and she was planning on getting cozy right after I left her doorstep.

  The nagging voice in the back of my head screamed bullshit.

  When the elevator door opened, so did Evangeline’s front door.

  I looked over toward her, and she pressed her head to the side of the door and gave me a sad smile. “I’m not sick, Owen. I’m sorry. Would you like to come inside?”

  Confused but grateful she didn’t want to shoo me away, I nodded and crossed the little lobby to step into her place. She closed and locked the door behind me and then went to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of wine. She sighed before taking a sip.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  She pressed her lips together. “Yes and no. Mostly no. Although…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “It’s stupid. But I need to talk to you about it.”

  “All right,” I said.

  “My father stopped by earlier today to talk to me.”

  “Okay.”

  “And it turns out Matthew told him that I was with you at the gala last weekend. And he didn’t like that very much.”

  Typical Frank.

  “Well, that’s not really a surprise, is it?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. “We both figured he wouldn’t be happy to know I was there with you.”

  Evangeline nodded and took another sip of wine. “No. You’re right. But I also didn’t expect him to show up at my place demanding I break things off with you and pursue a guy like Matthew instead.” She laughed, but there was no humor there. Instead, I heard only bitterness. “I can’t believe he still thinks you’re dangerous.”

  She was saying all the right things, but just beneath the surface, I could detect notes of insecurity. She wouldn’t meet my eye, and her shoulders were drawn inward. She seemed so unsure, so unsteady in her own resolve, and it made me start to think of things differently.

  Maybe I was the one who should offer her an out.

  Instead of her father having to come down hard on her, maybe it was my turn to offer her another option, a chance to bow out of this relationship before we both got too invested and we couldn’t turn our backs on it.

  Before I fell too hard and she stomped on my heart when I felt safe.

  “Angel,” I said, moving around the kitchen island to stand beside her. I placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face toward mine. “
Your father isn’t entirely wrong.”

  “But—”

  “Wait. Let me finish. He loves you. You are the most important thing in the world to him, and he doesn’t want to lose you. And he doesn’t know me. Not really.”

  “I know he doesn’t. But he should trust me. I’m his daughter. I don’t make stupid choices. And I’m a grown-ass woman. This is my choice to make.”

  “It is,” I agreed. “And if you choose something else or someone else, I want you to know that I understand, and I won’t hold it against you. I promise.”

  Her eyes searched mine, and her lips parted in surprise. “Owen, don’t say that.”

  “I have to. I care about you. And I want you to be happy. That’s all I want. And if I’m not what makes you happy and it’s not worth all the shit you’re going to get for being with me, then don’t feel bad if you have to walk away.”

  Evangeline shook her head ever so slightly before cupping my face in both hands and running her thumbs over the stubble on my jaw. “You’re talking crazy.”

  “I didn’t want to say it. But I had to.”

  Evangeline’s eyes grew glassy. I willed her not to cry. I could take anything but that.

  Then she smiled and sniffled and pressed her lips to the palm of the hand I still had resting under her chin. “And that’s what makes you such a good man, Owen. I just wish my father could see this part of you. He would change his mind in a heartbeat. I know he would.”

  Chapter 22

  Evangeline

  I couldn’t believe I’d even considered ending things with Owen.

  And all because my father couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Owen was not the risk-taking young man he knew from all those years ago.

  He was so much more than that.

  Sure, he still had a bit of a wild side, but that was part of what I loved so much about him. That, combined with his sense of humor, his compassion, and his willingness to help anyone in need made him a well-rounded man who was worthy of so much love.

  And I had so much to give.

  My father was clueless. And narrow-minded.

  Part of what made this so hard was that I really wanted my father to come around and see Owen for the man I knew he was. But he wouldn’t meet me in the middle. He wouldn’t soften his narrowminded views of the bad-boy biker he knew seven years ago.

  Even then, Owen had been a good person.

  He was lost, like a lot of young people were. And he fought his way out of the darkness and the confusion of youth. All those years of struggle had made him into the man he was now.

  There wasn’t a bone in my body that didn’t trust Owen fully.

  He would never put me in a bad position that would jeopardize my safety. Hell, he’d be the first thing standing between me and danger if something ever did happen. But there was no need to think like that because nothing would happen.

  Because this was now. Not seven years ago.

  I felt ashamed for what I’d put him through. That was where the tears were coming from. I could tell my emotions were making him uneasy.

  I dabbed at my eyes and willed myself to stop crying. “I guess I’m not as independent as I thought. I still care too much what my father thinks.”

  Owen rubbed my shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “If it’s interfering with my personal life and what makes me happy, there is.”

  Owen didn’t have anything to say to that. He looked down at his feet. “I wish I could make it better for you.”

  Hs words warmed my heart, and I put my hand on his chest. “You are making it better. Trust me.”

  “I’m also half the problem.”

  I pursed my lips. “That’s not true.”

  He arched his eyebrow.

  I cracked a smile. “You’re about ninety-nine percent of the problem.”

  Owen tossed his head back and laughed. The sound was radiant and comforting, and I stepped in close to wrap my arms around his waist. He gathered me in and rested his chin on top of my head. It felt good to be nestled into his chest like this. I fit perfectly, and his embrace set my mind at ease.

  This was where I wanted to be.

  Nobody else’s opinion was going to dictate my choices.

  I was stronger than that. And Owen was something I was willing to put it all on the line and fight for.

  He was rubbing off on me.

  Owen stroked my back. “So…” He trailed off.

  I looked up at him. “So?”

  He chewed the inside of his cheek. “Is it too soon for me to ask you out for dinner again tonight?”

  He was so sweet. I giggled. “I would love to spend tonight with you. But maybe we could change things up a bit?”

  “How so? Name your price. I’m up for anything.”

  “Well,” I said slowly, clasping my hands together behind his back and craning my neck back. “I was thinking it might be nice if you showed me some of your spots here in the city.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Uh. You want to go hang out at some biker bars? I’m not saying no, but I don’t think you’ll be much of a fan of the cheap beer and obnoxious crowds.”

  I snickered and shook my head. “No, not a biker bar. But maybe you could introduce me to some of your friends?”

  He searched my eyes.

  I frowned. “You do have friends, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said, his tone scolding. “Plenty of them. I just don’t know if they’ll be your cup of tea.”

  “Well, are they anything like you?”

  “Ruggedly handsome? Clever? Funny as hell? Yeah.”

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Then why wouldn’t they be my cup of tea?”

  Owen grinned. “All right. You win. We’ll go meet some of my crew.”

  “Really?” I asked excitedly. Owen’s new MC was his whole life, and I wanted to know as much about that life as possible. Meeting them seemed like the right place to start.

  He nodded, and as he talked, his eyes lit up, and his grin stretched his cheeks. “Really. Rhys is having a few of the guys and their women over for drinks and dinner tonight. If we leave soon, we’ll be there right on time.”

  “Just let me grab my purse and a jacket, and we can go,” I said as butterflies took flight in my stomach.

  This felt like a big step in the right direction for us.

  Owen caught my hand as I spun away from him to grab my jacket from the hook by the door. He looked me over. “You should probably change altogether.”

  “I beg your pardon?” I asked, looking down at my outfit. I had on a pair of white pants and a long-sleeved pastel-pink blouse that went well with the gold jewelry at my throat and in my ears. “I like this outfit, thank you very much.”

  “Slow your roll, princess. You’re going to meet a bunch of bikers who don’t wear anything besides denim and leather. It’s your call.”

  I frowned. He was right.

  “Damn it,” I muttered. “Okay. Hold on. I’ll be right back.”

  “I suggest wearing flat shoes,” he called to me as I hurried down the hall to my bedroom.

  When I reached my bedroom, I threw my closet door open and stared at everything I owned. Most of it was for business functions or dinners, and a good portion was for formal events.

  What the hell was I supposed to wear to a casual evening at a biker’s house?

  My mouth went suddenly dry.

  What had I gotten myself into?

  I didn’t know how to behave around men and women like this. I had no idea what we were going to talk about. Was I going to be that girl sitting in the corner, all uptight and worried about what everyone was thinking about her?

  Because surely, they would all be thinking something.

  Wouldn’t they?

  What a rich snob.

  She’s a prude.

  What is Owen doing with a woman like that?

  How much do you think she spent on her nails?

  Why is she here?


  Owen can do so much better.

  I shook my head furiously.

  “No,” I muttered to myself. “These people are his family. And Owen would not have family as mean as that.”

  Owen’s voice called back down to me from the kitchen. “Who are you talking to in there?”

  “Myself,” I called back as my cheeks started to burn.

  I could hear him chuckling to himself.

  I had to move my ass. He was waiting on me.

  After staring aimlessly into my closet for another minute or so, I abandoned it and went to my dresser, where I sorted through a bunch of jeans until I found a plain dark pair with no embellishments. I stripped out of my elegant outfit and pulled the jeans on. Then I found a plain black shirt, which I tucked into the jeans.

  I scoured my shoe racks for something casual and, more importantly, flat.

  Like Owen had said, heels were probably a bad idea. For the first time in my life, I regretted that my shoe collection was comprised of about eighty-five percent heels or wedges.

  The clouds parted, and a solution presented itself when I found an old pair of over the knee black boots. I pulled them on, discovering they were a little higher than over the knee. The pitch-black suede fabric hit me mid-thigh, covering most of my jeans, but it looked cute.

  Really cute actually.

  And kind of badass.

  I finished the look by brushing out my curls and pinning one side back. I wore gold hoop earrings that matched the gold zippers on the dark green leather jacket I shrugged over my shoulder. I flipped my hair out from under the jacket and went back out to meet Owen in the kitchen.

  His jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw me.

  “Hot damn,” he breathed.

  I spun in a little circle for him. “Is this more suitable?”

  “Much more,” he said, coming to me to rest a hand on my hip. “You look great, Angel. And you’ll fit in just fine.”

  I studied him. “I’m nervous.”

  “Don’t be. They’re good, easygoing people. And they’ll be excited to meet you finally.”

  “Finally?” I cocked my head to the side.

  Owen, for the first time since I’d known him, blushed.