Page 125 of Damaged Prince

Owen just laughs like a crazy man, this deadly look in his eyes, before he snaps.

He goes for his opponent, hitting him again and again. He doesn't stop, not even when the guy is on the ground.

It takes three men to pull Owen off the guy.

I’m in shock, in disbelief at what I’m seeing.

“And we have a winner!” A voice booms as a man steps on the stage. Not just any man. A man who has caused nothing but hell in our lives.

Stacy’s dad stands in the ring, his hand lifting Owen’s arm in victory. “Let’s hear it for one of our own, Viper!”

What the fuck does he mean by one of his own?

Why the hell is Owen in this club, fighting these men like an animal?

Most of all, why is he standing next to our fucking enemy like they’re best friends?

Something isn’t right here. No. Something is very, very wrong.

“What the fuck?” Logan hisses. “What the ever-loving fuck!”

Logan loses his shit, shouting to Eli and Justin.

Me? I do something very stupid, something I’m not supposed to be doing, and I get lost in the crowd of rowdy people, following in the direction Owen and Stacy’s dad are heading.

I need answers, and I need them right fucking now.

They head into the back, and I stupidly follow. No one notices me. No one stops me..

The two of them disappear into a room. I stop just before the door, looking around to make sure no one is watching.

“That was a good fight, Owen,” Stacy’s dad chuckles. “You nearly killed the fucker.”

“Would have if they didn’t pull me off of him,” Owen grumbles.

Stacy’s dad chuckles. “Keep the bloodthirsty drive for next time. For now, clean up and get back to work. You have a run tonight. And you better not fuck it up.”

“I never do,” Owen answers.

“No. You don't," Stacy’s dad muses. “Because you work for me. And no one works for me and messes up. You know what happens if you do.”

“I’m aware,” Owen mutters.

“Good, now get out of here.”

My eyes widen, my breath coming in quick, heavy pants. I race back the way I came, dipping into a room that says washroom.

Plastering myself against the wall, I take deep breaths, trying to get my breathing under control and wrap my mind around what the fuck I just heard.

I had to have heard wrong. There’s no way I didn’t.

Because if I did, then that would mean... that would mean Owen is working for Stacy’s dad.

Working for the man who’s caused his brother nothing but pain. The man whose daughter nearly killed his nephew.

“What are you doing, Owen?” I whisper, the urge to puke strong. “What the fuck are you doing?”

The end. For now.