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“Hi, I’m Officer Kingsley.”
“Janet Sommers.”
“Can I have a moment with Owen, please?” I asked.
“Sure. I need a break anyway.” She hooked the clipboard under her arm, and her sensible shoes squeaked on the floor as she strolled away.
I entered the room, which contained four holding cells, but Owen was the only detainee. He sat on the concrete seat at the back and was staring at his knees.
Owen’s bloodshot eyes swept to me as I walked to his cell, but he snapped his gaze away.
“Hi, Owen.” I strode to the front of his cell and gripped the bars.
He didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. He just stared at the wall like it held all the answers he needed.
He looked so lost and alone. It was a brutal replication of his life.
Owen’s father died in that shootout along with Wesley. His two uncles died in jail, and Owen said his mom was also dead. That meant Owen wasn’t just an orphan, he was also the sole survivor of a family that had been waging war on their enemies for decades.
I wanted to tell him I loved him and I forgave him for trying to kill me, but he wouldn’t believe me. “Owen, you are better than the family you were born into. You can make a new life for yourself and become the man your mom wanted you to be.”
“What about Mom’s life? And Wesley’s? Huh? You ended their lives.”
My heart ached, and I wished I could convey how much I hated what I did.
“You’re only seventeen, Owen. It’s not too late to end your family legacy here and turn your life around.”
“Leave me alone!” The tendons in his neck bulged.
“Whenever you need me, I’m just a phone call away. I’m going to be there for you. I owe you that.”
“I don’t want your fucking help.” He sucked his lips into his mouth like he was fighting his emotions.
“I’m giving it to you anyway. I’m doing it for you and Wesley and your mom.”
“Go away!” He flared his bloodshot eyes at me, and his chin quivered.
I was a heartbeat off repeating that I loved him when I honored his wishes and walked away.
Janet was in the hallway with her back against the wall. She cocked one eyebrow at me, and I knew she’d overheard my discussion with Owen.
I ran my hand through my hair. “Owen was handed a raw deal when he was born to his monster father. He’s hurting and full of rage, but I don’t believe he’s beyond saving.”
Her expression softened. “Good to know, but what are you asking me to do?”
“Go easy on him.” I met her gaze, determined to show her the plea etched in my words. “He’s seen things and been through hell that would break most grown men.”
She nodded. In her position, she probably met many kids who were lumped with similar burdens.
“Listen,” I leaned into her ear. “Owen told me he buried his mother with his own hands. We need to find out where her body is.”
Her jaw dropped. “Did he kill his mother?”
“No. I shot his mom, Nikki Bolton, during a police raid, but she got away. I didn’t know she was dead until Owen said so last night.”
A frown corrugated her forehead, and I wasn’t sure she believed me.
“There’s an entire backstory to Owen that’s tied to an undercover operation. I’m not sure how much I can tell you, but I’ll find out, and when you have a few hours to spare, let me know.”
