As/n: So, what happened so far was that Callie has a gun up to Owen's head… not much.
Chapter 2
PoisonWhen the door shut, Heather's mind went crazy. Thoughts can twenty at a time, mixing together and spreading dread in her mind. Callie roughly pushed Owen onto the couch and turned to Heather. Heather took this as a sign to sit down, so she did. She clasped onto Owen's hand tightly, fingernails digging into his hand.
Owen held hers, its warmth only spreading so much comfort, as he cast a hate filled glance at Callie who was pulling the curtains closed with a rasp and hurrying to the door, clicking the lock shut.
Heather was desperately praying for her father to come home from the theatre downtown and call the police to get the wretched woman away from her. But as it was, it was going to take a long time to make sure that after the theatre's flood, there was no water damage on the stage. Ryan wouldn't be home for hours.
"Why are you doing this?" Owen asked quietly.
Callie whipped around, outraged that someone would ask her that question. Heather noticed something about her, something different. But she found her answer when she looked into Callie's cold, dark eyes. They lost their shine, their brightness.
Heather wondered how long it had been since Callie went crazy…
"Why?" Callie hissed, stepping up to Owen's expressionless face. "Because that little brat right there murdered my son and now she's going to pay."
Callie brought the gun dangerously close to Heather's forehead, her finger resting on the trigger. Callie's eyes got a new gleam, and they flashed in the darkness of the room. "Say good night."
Just as she pulled the trigger, Owen darted up and grabbed Callie's wrist, forcing the gun upwards. The bullet left a hole through the ceiling and Callie's bony elbow flew back, smashing Owen on the jaw where a fresh bruise was starting to fade.
Owen drew back in pain, clutching his jaw but he collected himself quickly, only to find Callie with a gun at his temple. He didn't move and kept his stony expression. "Any last words?" Callie whispered.
Owen didn't speak. Heather didn't speak either but her eyes welled with tears of hatred and pain. She watched Callie as Callie spoke to her, "You'll watch him die, knowing it was all your fault."
She stretched out the last words to play with Heather's mind and toy with her emotions. Callie turned her attention to Owen, poising her finger on the trigger. A single tear fell down Owen's cheek. Suddenly, Heather spoke.
"You don't want to kill him, Callie," She said. "You wouldn't."
"And why wouldn't I?" Callie spat, not moving the gun.
"Because Owen's is someone's son," Heather said. "And someone loves him, the way you loved Clark. I know, it's hard for you to let go but you would never want to bring that pain upon someone else, would you? You'd be hurting me, sure, but think about Troy, Callie. He's lost his wife and his daughter. If you took Owen away, he would have no one."
"I have no one!" Callie shouted, tears hitching her voice. The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Heather shook her head to loosen the tears that we coming to her eyes.
"And you're wishing you're pain onto someone else," Heather said. "Someone who is absolutely innocent."
Callie's expression didn't soften but she did get more aggravated when she realized Heather was right. But she turned her head and looked Owen in the eyes. Heather sat, awestruck, watching Callie. After all she said, after every true word…
Callie raised the gun in the air and brought the handle down on Owen's skull, causing him to fall to the ground unconscious. Heather shouted in surprise and flew to the ground. She landed on her knees, turning Owen's head towards her. She turned to Callie with tear filled eyes.
"He's not dead," Callie hissed.
"How could you?" Heather asked, standing up, walking closely to Callie. "How could you do that to Owen? He's innocent! He did nothing to you or your son!"
"Because, dear, I want you to feel what I feel. I want you to wake up in the middle of the night screaming because you know that you caused your precious little boyfriend this much pain."
She nudged Owen's lifeless form with her foot and sighed.
"So young, so handsome," Callie said, clicking her tongue. "It's just too bad that youth was wasted."
Heather then started to cry. Blinded by tears, she knelt down next to Owen, who was still out cold. She cradled his head in her lap, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "I will never leave you," She whispered, giving him a kiss on his forehead. "I love you."
In the mess, Callie had snuck into the kitchen and pulled a bottle out of her pocket. She had bought it this morning, claiming she was having a pest problem. The bottle was filled to the brim with Raid Bug Poisoning.
Carefully, she twisted off the top and the cap to the Evans's milk carton. Silently, she poured the Raid bottle's contents into the milk and capped both containers with an evil smile.
Callie Greensburg would get her revenge.
…
Ryan was stuck in traffic, halfway across town. Lights blared in his eyes, horns honked in his ears and the line of automobiles seemed to fade into nothingness as it curved around every street corner. The rain pounded his windshield, his windshield wipers moved like crazy.
Ryan stared longingly into a Dierberg's parking lot. (Dierberg's is a grocery store.) It was then he realized that the refrigerator was almost empty except for a few condiments, a carton of milk, and a bunch of leftovers.
He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed his home phone number. There was a long pause and no one answered which was very odd. Heather or Owen were always bound to pick up the phone.
He dialed Heather's cell phone but found it turned off, which aggravated him. The one time she turns it off…So he dialed Owen's cell and on the third ring, there was an answer but no one spoke.
"Hello?" Ryan asked. "O, you there?"
"Ryan?"
That wasn't Owen's voice. It wasn't even Heather's voice. It was a woman's, definitely, one Ryan had heard before. He couldn't place a finger on it. But it was familiar…
"Callie?"
"What's it to you?"
"What are you doing with Owen's cell phone?"
Callie gave a long, cruel laugh in the background her heard a yell.
"Dad! Help!"
"Heather?"
Then the line went dead…
…
"I told you not to speak!" Callie screamed, smashing the phone into the table causing it to break into pieces. Heather gulped but stood her ground. There was nothing Callie could do now. Her dad was going to get help… if he heard her.
Owen stirred on the ground and gently pulled his upper body off of the floor. He rubbed his head and checked his hand for blood. Heather shouted, "Owen!" and went to help him.
Owen lifted himself off the ground, gingerly testing each leg. He winced as he leaned on his left leg but stopped when he heard Callie step forward. Owen puts his arms behind his back, trapping Heather in between them.
Callie raised the gun slowly, her hollowed eyes gleaming in the light.
"Say good bye, Owen…"
Suddenly, a splintering crack was heard and a loud thud followed. Then, as team of four policemen came running into the house, pulling handguns out of their utility belts screaming, "This is the police! Put your hands up!"
Heather sighed a sigh of relief and Owen turned around to hug her. "Are you okay?"
"Me?" Heather asked. "You got knocked out!"
"Hey, I've been stabbed and shot before," Owen pointed out, his chin resting on top of her head. He breathed in her fruity shampoo and let out a tired breath. "You must've been scared."
"I didn't know what to do!" Heather shouted through her tears as the police cuffed Callie and dragged her out of the house. Her head was leaned in on Owen's chest and he was stroking her hair gently. "I was more worried about you, if you were okay, but when she turned the gun at me I thought about my life and… I haven't lived long enough, Owen."
"I know," Owen said. "I have that feeling all the time."
"Oh, look at me!" Heather said, wiping her face with the back of her palm. "You've had it so much worse and I-I've had one little scare…"
"That wasn't little, Heather," Owen said seriously. "She could've shot you."
"If you wouldn't've been here…"
"This wouldn't've happened."
"No, it was my fault."
"How?" Owen asked, pulling away from her to look into her tear filled eyes. "If I hadn't confused you, you wouldn't have been Clark's girlfriend and, if you hadn't have been Clark's girlfriend, then wouldn't've broken up with him. If you wouldn't have broken up with him, he wouldn't have tried to get revenge and end up dead."
They sat in silence and Heather whispered, "You really think it was your fault?"
"It was."
"Owen, if anyone, I'm to blame," Heather said. "I was the idiot dumb enough to go out with him!"
"Heather, I need to tell you something…"
"Heather!"
Ryan was in the doorway, the door lying splintered at his feet. He rushed over to her and gave her a hug. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Dad," Heather said, hugging him back.
Owen stepped away and was met by a police officer that spoke in a low, raspy voice. "So, you guys related?"
"No," Owen said. "No, we're just friends."
"Well, the way you were protecting her…"
"Nah," Owen interrupted. "We're friends."
"Hey, haven't I seen you before?" Owen looked him over. He had a busy brown moustache that made Owen's skin crawl, a portly figure, and smoldering brown eyes.
"Yeah, you're the one who wouldn't let me see my dad!" Owen exclaimed.
"Look, kid," The officer said, throwing his hands up. "Some people just need to admit…"
"My dad doesn't, won't, and hasn't ever beaten me!" Owen said. "Why don't you understand that?"
"Look, your dad can't hurt you know, kid," The officer said. "You can admit it!"
"Why would I lie like that?" Owen asked, shaking his head in disgust. But just then, Ryan came up and gave Owen a hug.
"Are you okay?" Ryan asked. "Heather told me what happened."
"Yeah," Owen said, returning the hug. "I'm fine."
"You want to go get your head checked out?" Ryan asked.
"No!" Owen said too quickly and too loudly. So he softly added, "No. It's no big deal. I mean, what's a hit to the head?"
"A hit to the head?" The officer asked. "That could be serious!"
"I've been hit harder," Owen said, scratching the back of his neck.
"By your father?"
"No!" Ryan, Heather, and Owen all screamed.
"Some people just don't give up, do they?" Owen muttered as all the police left the house.
"Well, it looks like Owen's going to have to sleep upstairs tonight," Ryan said. "And it looks like I need a new front door."
Everyone laughed.
…
Owen sighed as he looked out the window in Heather's room. He was seated in the window seat, watching the pale moonlight slice through the rain and onto the street. He was free of the venom that had been haunting him in his dreams, the gunshot that woke him up in the middle of the night, causing him to scream.
That poison was Callie Greensburg…
And now he was free.
As/n: Okay, a little scary and a little fluffy! RR&E! And who drinks the poison??? Hmm… must wait and find out!