Thrill Me (One Night with Sole Regret 9) - Page 48

Owen released a sigh of relief. Alive. They could handle anything but dead. He couldn’t handle dead.

“They’re not sure he’s going to make it.”

“That bad?” he heard himself say over the growing buzz in his ears.

She nodded. “His CO said he was the only survivor. The only survivor.”

He pulled her into his arms, her little three-legged dog squirming in protest between them. “He’s going to make it.”

“They said not to get our hopes up,” she gasped out between sobs.

Too bad. Owen’s hopes were sky high.

“He’s going to make it,” Owen repeated, squeezing tighter.

Footsteps stopped behind him, and he looked up to see Kelly standing there with Lindsey behind him. Kelly’s concerned face blurred beyond the sudden flood of tears in his eyes.

“Is it Chad?” Kelly asked.

Owen couldn’t answer him. He turned his face into his mother’s neck, his mind racing, his heart aching, his soul completely empty. “He’s going to make it.”

That was all that mattered to Owen. The shit with his band and with Lindsey—none of it mattered. Getting Chad home alive was all that he cared about.

“Can we go to Germany and see him?” Owen asked.

“Once he’s stable they’ll transfer him to a hospital stateside. I should have prayed harder,” Mom said.

Owen had a ritual where he prayed for Chad’s safe return, so that couldn’t be why his helicopter had crashed. Owen always prayed hard. Every night he prayed for Chad.

Oh shit. Owen’s heart turned to ice in his chest. “Did you say it happened Monday?”

“That’s why he never called. He was supposed to call.”

And that had been the evening Owen had experienced an unshakable feeling of dread. He’d thought it was because Adam had gone missing and Jacob had destroyed the band, but he knew now that was when Chad had been injured, when he’d been fighting to live. And Owen had been so caught up in his own much smaller tragedies that he hadn’t prayed for him that night. He hadn’t prayed.

“My brave, brave boy,” Mom whimpered. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

The back door banged shut, and Dad called into the house, “Joan? Where are you?”

“James!” She didn’t get another word out as sobs racked her body. Apparently she’d been holding herself together the best she could for Owen’s benefit.

Dad ran in, face drawn, hands clenched, his gaze searching the room. “Did the officer leave?”

“What officer?” Owen asked.

“The death squad officer!”

Owen didn’t know if there was such a thing as a death squad officer, but Dad’s meaning was clear. When a soldier was killed in action, a high-ranking uniformed officer delivered the news in person.

“He’s not dead,” Owen said. And he would not allow himself to even consider the possibility.

Dad’s sturdy shoulders sagged, and he covered his face with one hand before bending to scoop Mom against him with the other. “Why didn’t you tell me that on the phone? I thought—I thought we’d lost him.”

“W-wounded,” Mom said, her tears flowing nonstop. “Terribly.”

Owen couldn’t listen to her tell his father the mortal danger Chad still faced. His heart wouldn’t survive a repeat of those words. He turned and rushed for the door, needing a moment or ten alone so he could collect his thoughts.

This could not be happening.

Lindsey caught his arm as he brushed past. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Fix my brother,” he snapped. “Can you do that?”

She ducked her head and whispered, “I’m so sorry,” as he pulled free and fled to the front porch, where he stopped short before he careened into Kelly’s back. Kelly was staring out across the front yard, a hand on either hip.

He turned. Had the tears swimming in Kelly’s eyes not chosen that moment to course down his cheeks, Owen might not have shattered. He covered his mouth with one hand to choke back a sob and found himself crushed in a tight embrace. Kelly’s hand cupped the back of Owen’s head as he held him close. Afraid he’d crumple to the porch, Owen wrapped his arms around Kelly and held on to the solid strength he hadn’t realized he needed from his friend.

Agony choked him until it burst from him in a sob.

“He’ll be all right,” Kelly whispered. “You have to believe he’ll be all right.”

Owen did believe that. He believed it so much that he mentally promised God everything he could think of to make the wish a reality.

When at last Owen was able to shove his grief into the darkest pit of his soul, he lifted his head and got lost in Kelly’s turbulent gaze. Kelly didn’t drop his arms, didn’t release Owen from his embrace, instead he leaned close—closer still—until his face blurred. Kelly’s lips brushed Owen’s, so feather-light that Owen convinced himself he was imagining his kiss.

What?

Kelly groaned, his lips parting as he deepened his claim on Owen’s mouth.

For a moment, the darkness clouding Owen’s heart dissipated. Every worry vanished. The world outside Kellen’s kiss didn’t exist. Hunger, passion, and a forbidden pleasure centered on Owen’s mouth and spread down his throat and into his chest, forming a shield of trust around his heart. The deep-rooted connection that had always existed between them manifested into physical form. The beauty of it stole Owen’s every thought for one glorious moment.

But then Kelly pulled away, and the magic shattered.

Kelly searched Owen’s eyes and said, “I’m sorry.”

Owen might have understood Kellen’s apology if he hadn’t just been kissed into emotional oblivion, but this was no joke. He could see a change in the way Kelly looked at him, with feelings just realized. Painful, inappropriate feelings.

Owen was shaking.

How did Kelly expect him to react? What did he expect him to say? Maybe he wasn’t supposed to do or say anything.

“Owen,” Kelly said, curving his fingers into Owen’s face and leaning closer. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Owen asked, confusion hammering at his reeling mind. “For Chad? For doing . . . doing that to me?”

“I’m not sorry I kissed you. I’m also not sorry I enjoyed it or that you enjoyed it.”

What? He hadn’t enjoyed it. He’d just . . . He’d needed to feel a deep emotional bond with someone and Caitlyn was back at his place taking a dump.

Owen shook his head at the lie he was trying to pass over on himself. What he really wished was that Kelly was still kissing him, had never stopped kissing him. While their lips had been pressed together, Owen had felt none of the fear or confusion or anxiety that he felt now. He’d only felt right.

This could not be happening.

Kelly pressed his forehead against Owen’s and closed his eyes. Peace stole over Owen for an instant, and then more confusing thoughts bombarded him. What had caused this sudden change between them? The band breaking up? Chad’s horrible situation? Owen’s reaction to it? Something that had happened during Kelly’s weekend with Dawn? What? Why was Kelly acting like this was totally normal? There was nothing normal about this. Nothing!

“I don’t understand,” Owen mumbled.

“I am beyond sorry about Chad.”

Of course he was. Chad was an older brother to both of them—Owen’s by blood, Kelly’s by circumstance.

“But I’m mostly sorry that I’ve been blind for so long.”

What?

“I want you, Owen.”

Owen stiffened and backed away. Kelly wanted him. Want, not love. What did that mean? He shook his head. What the hell did Kelly mean?

“Owen?”

Owen waved him off, unable to meet his eyes. “This cannot be happening.”

He stumbled backwards down the steps and ran so hard that he was unable to slow his momentum before he slammed into the gate. He

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