Note: Okay, guys, we're getting very close to the end of the story now! Only a few chapters left actually. Which is both happy and sad but anyway, I hope you enjoy this new chapter!
"And that's it. Every last bit," the man finished his story.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Owen watching him intensely.
"You think it can work out that way with me?" he asked him, surprising me.
"...Yes...I think it can," the man said, finally.
There was a moment of silence before Owen chuckled softly.
"Maybe...you noticed I'm shaking a little? Sweating a little?" he asked, still smiling that eerie smile of his.
I arched an eyebrow at him in confusion. What in the world was he talking about? Where was he going with this?
Slowly, he reached down with his tightly bound hands and groaning slightly, pulled his t-shirt up to reveal a deep bloody cut mark across his side. I let out a shrill gasp and put my hand over my mouth in horror.
"Owen! When did that happen?!" I asked him frantically, panic evident in my voice.
He let out a sigh before letting the shirt drop, covering the injury.
"I saw how settled this place was in the pictures I found...I thought maybe there'd be something here. Medicine to help this," he said, gesturing to his wound.
Then it hit me. He'd had that cut this entire time. It was the whole reason we even ended up here in this town. He was looking for someone to heal him, not for shelter.
"But that was before you people won. So I know I'm probably going to die," he said and I let out a whimper.
He couldn't. No! He can't die! Not now, not ever.
"But if I don't I am going to have to kill you, Morgan. I'm going to have to kill every person here. Every one of them. The children, too. Just like your friend Eastman's children," he continued and I looked at him wide-eyed, "Those are the rules. That's my code. I'd say I'm sorry, but you said it, right? Don't ever be sorry,"
I sucked in a deep breath and tried not to let tears escape my eyes. This can't be happening! The man who I now knew whose name was Morgan grimaced before using his Bo Staff to help him get up off the floor. He took a step towards Owen and I kept my eyes on his towering frame before he stalked out the door, closing it softly behind him. A split-second later I heard the squeak of a gate and his booted footsteps fading away in the distance. We sat in silence for a few moments before I spoke.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked him quietly, trying to keep my temper in check.
He bit his lip and leaned his head back against the wall.
"What difference would it have made?" he countered, his voice soft.
I scoffed and pulled my legs up to my chest.
"You're dying, Owen! Of course it would have made a difference if I'd known! I wouldn't have-" I spat at him.
"-fallen in love with me?" he cut me off, shooting me a pointed look.
I gaped at him.
"Of course I still would have loved you! But I would have preferred to know that my boyfriend was injured and could die of said injury!" I shot back.
He didn't say anything. I sighed and scooted closer to him. My bound hands found his and I caressed the back of his hands with my slender fingers.
"I love you, Owen. So much. And if there's something wrong, I wanna know about it. I wanna help you. You're not alone anymore. I'm with you now and I'm not leaving. I promise," I said, my words hushed as they left my tongue.
He looked over at me then, those cocoa-brown eyes filled with love as he gazed at me.
"I love you, too, Angel Dixon. I'll always love you," he said softly and I knew he truly meant it.
My eyes filled with tears then and I leaned into him, my head resting on his shoulder. The worn material of his coat scratched against my cheek but I didn't mind it. Owen was all I needed. He was my stone. Everything else didn't matter.