Owen's pulse was racing, his entire body alert and ready for a fight, even if he didn't necessarily want one. When it seemed like Marco had finally come to his senses, Owen released him. He had intended on telling Marco that yes, he told Cecilia about the legit meds, but no he had no plans to tell anyone else unless Marco came at him like this again.
Before he could, though, Marco did come at him again. With a fist to the nose. It was his own fault for giving a junkie the benefit of the doubt, or dropping his guard in those few seconds. His father would have been disappointed. Owen was unceremoniously thrown back into time, to his first fight in the ring when he had done the same damn thing. Lowering his fists, taking a breath. He had gotten a left hook straight to the jaw, knocking him out.
This wasn't entirely the same, but it pissed Owen off just the same. The pain that flowed through his cheekbones, the blood that splashed onto his lips. He was done with this shit. Letting his temper and physicality drive him, Owen ignored his bloody nose, and the pain that accompanied it, reaching immediately for Marco. Within seconds he was behind the other man, swinging his arm around the guy and dragging him back against him. Owen's training rose swiftly into his memory and without thinking, he pressed his armpit to Marco's shoulder, bringing his fist up to the side of Marco's neck where he pressed his free palm against it.
"Sleeper holds generally work in three to ten seconds," Owen said breathlessly, loud enough for Marco to hear. "All I gotta to do is apply some pressure and you're going to be out cold. You don't want anyone else knowin' about your little habit, you better calm the fuck down or it's all over for you. Do you understand me?"