Omega Evan Buckley Novels & Stories

Jackson put the tablet on the table and looked around. “Ok,” Evan chuckled. Evan texted his mother telling her that there was something wrong with the deal. For a moment, he thought it was a set up but then again, that would also put Mr. Jackson in trouble. Elise didn’t respond and Evan regretted texting her. That showed how he relied on his mother. He cringed thinking about how weak that showed him. “So our man is here,” Mr. Jackson exhaled standing up. “Where?” Evan asked.

He ended the call with a crease in his forehead. I recognize that look. Dad wears that face every time he’s about to break a promise to me for the weekend because of work. Approaching me, Evan set his phone on the coffee table and scooped me to sit on his lap. “Work?” I mumbled, nose nuzzling under his chin, feeling his pulse against my cheek while my palms rested just right above his heart. Hm, he’s so warm and cozy. Evan sighed. “They need me on the site in Brooklyn.”

I can barely breathe. Owen straightens slowly, his movements unhurried, deliberate. His gaze lands on me, steady and cold in a way that finally makes sense. So this is it. “So,” he says, calm, almost bored. “You just shove people now?” No one laughs. “That was rude,” Luke adds from behind me. “Real disrespectful.” I try to speak. Nothing comes out. Owen takes a step closer. Not aggressive. Not threatening. “I don’t know who you are, or why you did what you did, but don’t do that again,” he says. “To me. Or to anyone in my circle. We’ll let you go now, but not another time.”