Monica Murphy - Four Years Later

This has been by far the most exhilarating and wonderful and stressful year of my life. What started out as a little idea about a broken boy and a broken girl turned into this series that completely changed my writing career. Im so thankful to everyone whos been there for me every step of the way. There are a lot of people who I want to acknowledge and thank, so here we go.

First to my agent, Kimberly Whalen, for believing in the series and for helping me find its home at Bantam. To my editor, Shauna Summers, who helps me go deeper with every book and whos so encouraging and enthusiastic. Its been a joy working with you. To Sue Grimshaw, who is always so helpful and responsive. To everyone at Bantam/Random House for helping me with the endless questions and emails, and for the support.

A big thank you to Kati Rodriguez for all the help with everything. To KP Simmon for the endless amounts of hard work you put into every book release and for the friendship.

Ive made so many new friends in this self-publishing turned traditional publishing venture since January 2013. What a wonderful, supportive group of women Ive met, and Im so lucky to call them my friends. An extra big shout-out to Lauren Blakely for the hilarious emails and the scarily correct predictionsyoure amazing.

To my critique partner Katy Evans, who is a busy bee just like me, so thank God we have each other. This has been a wild ride and extra fun because weve done it together.

I have to mention my friends from the other side. The ones whove known me forever, whove been there for me through thick and thin, who know me as I really am (and that would be as my other writer self, Karen Erickson). So to Shelli Stevens, Kate Pearce, Loribelle Hunt, Stephanie Draven, Lisa Renee Jones, Gwen Hayes, Stacey Jay, and Tracy Wolff, thank you.

I must thank my family because, hello, they deal with me never being around, or sitting at my desk all the time, or with my head in the clouds because Im working through a plot point. To my husband for his never-ending supportI absolutely could not have accomplished what I did this past year without you. To my children, who are extra proud of the fact that their mama is in Target, their favorite store. To my parents, my grandma, and my brother- and sister-in-law for cheering me on.

Finally, I must thank the readers and the bloggers and the reviewers. Do you guys know how awesome you are? I would be nothing without you all spreading the word, supporting me (supporting all of us authors!). Thank you for taking the time to make (awesome!!!) graphics, for writing reviews, and for talking about my books and my characters like theyre real people. I know youve waited a long time for this book. I appreciate your patience and hope like crazy you loved reading Owen and Chelseas story as much as I loved writing it.

I never planned on Owen having his own book. He was just Fables brother, a secondary character Fable needed to ground her and give her something to love before she met Drew. He was a total pain in her ass that she had to deal with, but she loved him so fiercely. So did I.

Then he grew into this thing. He became this man-boy who punched Drew in the face, who loved his sister just as fiercely as she loved him and had all of this guilt to deal with because of his mom. He demanded a story. So here it is. And dare I say I love Owen just as much as I love Drew? Yes. I do.

I hope you do, too.

Owen

I wait outside in the hallway, slumped in a chair with my head bent down, staring at my grungy black Chucks. The closed door to my immediate left is composed mostly of glass, hazy and distorting, but I know whos inside. I can hear the low murmur of their voices but I dont really hear the words.

Thats okay. I know what theyre saying about me.

My counselor. My coach. My sister. My brother-in-law. Theyre all inside, talking about my future. Or lack thereof.

Tilting my head back, I stare at the ceiling, wondering yet again how the hell I got here. A few years ago, life was good. Hell, last summer life was really good. I was on the team. Running on that field like my feet were fire and I couldnt ever be stopped. Coach approved, a big grin on his face when hed tell me, Youre just like Drew.

Yeah. That made me proud as shit. I idolize my brother-in-law. He makes me feel safe. He understands me when Fable never, ever could. Not that she doesnt try the best she can, but shes a girl. She doesnt get it.

Thinking of girls makes my heart feel like its made out of lead. Solid and thick and impenetrable. I havent been with a girl since I dont know. A few weeks? I miss em. Their smiles and their laughter and the way they gasp when I dive in all smooth-like and kiss them. Their soft skin and how easy it all was. Clothes falling off and legs and arms tangled up.

Being on the football team meant I could get all the tail that I could ever want. But if I dont have the grades, I cant stay on the team. If I cant stop smoking weed, then Im kicked off the team. If I get caught one more time drinking at one of the bars while Im underage, Im definitely off the fucking team forever. Zero tolerance, baby.

None of us practice what the team rules preach.

The glass door swings open and my college counselor peeks her head out, her expression grim, her gaze distant when she stares at me. You can come in now, Owen.

Without a word I stand and shuffle inside the room, unable to look at anyone for fear Ill see all that disappointment flashing in their eyes. The only one I chance a glance at is Drew, and his expression is full of so much sympathy I almost want to grab him in a tackle hug and beg him to make it all better.

But I cant do that. Im a grown-ass manor so Mom tells me.

Fuck. Theres my biggest secret. I can hardly stand to think of her, let alone when Fable is sitting right next to me. She would flip. Out. If she knew the truth.

She doesnt know. No one knows Mom is back in town and begging me to help her. She asks me to get her weed and I do. She gives me beer as payment and I drink it. Handing over all the spare money that I make.

Im working at The District, where Im a waiter when Im not in class or at practice or supposed to be studying or whatever the hell. Im making decent money, Im on a football scholarship, and Drew plays for the NFL, for the love of God, so Fable and Drew have no problems. They live in the Bay Area, he plays for the 49ers, and hes one loaded motherfucker.

But I refuse to take a handout from them beyond their helping me pay for school expenses and my house, which I share, thank you very much, to ease the burden. Mom blew back into town last spring, when my freshman year was winding down. Knowing I have a soft spot for her, that Im easily manipulated by her words.

Your sisters rich, she tells me. That little bitch wont give me a dime, but I know you will, sweetie. Youre my precious baby boy, remember? The one who always watched out for me. You want to protect me right? I need you, Owen. Please.

She says please, and like a sucker I hand over all the available cash I have to her.

Weve been discussing your future here at length, Owen, my counselor says. Her voice is raspy, like shes smoked about fifty thousand packs of smokes too many, and I focus all my attention on her, not wanting to see the disappointment written all over Fables face. There are some things were willing to look past. Youre young. Youve made some mistakes. There are many on your team whove made the same mistakes.

Hell yeah, there are. Those guys are my friends. We made those mistakes together.