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As we step out onto the balcony, my heart is in my throat and my hand is shaking like a fucking leaf. I don’t want to see Owen again but I also couldn’t just stand in the apartment, waiting for Dalton to get back either. When the street comes into view, I gasp.
He’s gone.
“He was here,” I tell Dalton. “I swear, he was just right here.”
He turns back to me and cradles my face. “I believe you, baby. It’s okay. What was he doing?”
“Uh… watching the bakery, I think. He was staring at it so intently.” I shake my head. “I don’t think he knew I was living here, though. Then, I spilled some coffee on my foot and when I looked up again, he was staring at me.”
“Motherfucker,” he hisses, turning back to the street as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He pushes a couple of buttons and then puts it on speakerphone as it rings.
“Yo,” someone says. “What’s up?”
“Streak, where the hell is Owen right now?”
There is a faint clicking sound on the other end of the line and then Streak says, “At home.”
“Bullshit,” Dalton hisses through clenched teeth. “He was just standing outside the fucking bakery, watching Lennon.”
“Fuck,” Streak mutters, more clicking filling the line. “His phone and truck are showing that he’s at home, Rooster. I promise you.”
“Well, then he fucking walked to the bakery or something because he was just fucking here.”
“It’s five miles,” I whisper, remembering just how far it is from the bakery to my old apartment. Dalton looks back at me and nods.
He knows this.
Of course he knows this.
So how the hell did Owen get here without alerting any of them that he was on the move if they’ve been tracking him this whole time?
And why?
“We’ll be at the clubhouse soon and we can talk more,” he says, hanging up the phone before Streak has a chance to say anything else to him. I look up at him and arch a brow.
“We are?”
He nods. “I need you to come stay with me, baby.”
“Dalton-”
“No,” he says, cutting me off. “He knows you’re living here now, Lennon. I can’t have you here, in this apartment. I need you to come back to the compound with me where I can keep you safe.”
“He was just watching the bakery, it’s unnerving but I don’t think he’d hurt me,” I tell him. I can’t imagine Owen doing much of anything if I’m being honest but then again, I never expected to find him outside my apartment.
“You were drugged, Lennon.”
I blink at him, dots slowly connecting themselves in my mind. “You think Owen drugged me?”
“It makes sense.”
I shake my head. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Lennon,” he says, taking a deep breath. “He’s my number one fucking suspect.”
“Why, though?” I ask, shaking my head. He says it makes sense but quite honestly, it doesn’t to me. Owen liked the convenience of me and slipping into a nightclub undetected by me, Morgan, and Dalton to drug me is a hell of an inconvenience.
He sighs. “I don’t have an answer to that, yet, Lennon. But I can’t risk just leaving you here. Not until we know, for sure.”
