Chapter 26
“Are you going to tell me what Peyton said to you, or are you going to make me guess?” I say as we’re both lying in bed. Owen’s arm is thrown over my stomach as I stare up at the ceiling.
Owen takes a deep breath, and I’m too afraid to look at him. Too afraid of what I’ll find in his face. Too afraid of what I know is coming.
“He wants a job.”
My head snaps in his direction. “Excuse me?”
I must have heard him wrong.
Owen laughs a bit awkwardly. “He wants me to hire him.”
“As an assassin?”
Owen shakes his head, laughing in earnest now. “No. That’s the craziest part. He wants a real job.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I simply stare at him.
“I told him I’d think about it.” Owen seems almost embarrassed.
I blink a couple of times. “You’re seriously considering it?”
Owen shrugs. “Isn’t there that saying about keeping your friends close and enemies closer?”
I blink again. Maybe I’m in shock.
Owen laughs. “That wasn’t all he said, though. He told me he has information I might need, and if I give him a real job, he’ll reveal the information and do his best to help me.”
“Why would he help you?”
“I asked him that, and he said because he only likes to work for people he knows will win.”
I scoff. “That bastard likes to speak in riddles. I don’t trust him.”
“I don’t either, but I’d rather have him as an ally than an enemy, and he seems to know information that may help me get out of this mess.”
“You going to hire him in my place?” I ask, mostly joking.
Owen’s face falls.
“Did you forget you fired me?” I keep my tone light, but the question is sincere.
Owen looks away from me and runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t forget. I’m just not sure about anything anymore.”
My heart skips a beat, and I sit up, aware I still don’t have any clothes on. I know Owen is listening to me, but his eyes wander to my bare chest.
“How do you know Peyton won’t get on the payroll, steal all your secrets, put a bullet through your head, and then sell your secrets to the highest bidder?”
Owen’s eyes widen. “I don’t have any secrets.”
I cock my head to the side and smile. “Bullshit.”
The corner of his mouth kicks up, and his eyes sweep my body again, sending an involuntary shiver through me.
“Will you focus, please?” I ask him.
“A little hard when you have no clothes on.”
“Fine.” I stand up and cross the room, opening a drawer full of shirts. I grab one that is big enough to fall halfway down my thighs. “That better?”
Owen pouts like I ruined his day, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I pointedly glare at his still naked body, but he ignores me completely.
“You seem to trust Peyton,” I say, taking hesitant steps back toward the bed. I’m not sure if it’s a question or if I need confirmation.
“For some odd reason, I do.”
That doesn’t ease my fear. Owen trusts me, after all.
“He knocked you out after your little conversation,” I remind him.
“I let him.”
“What?”
Owen laughs at my shock and beckons me back to the bed. I finally sit, folding my legs under myself.
“He didn’t trust me not to tell you about our conversation before he left the building.”
“And what did he think I was going to do?” I realize it’s a dumb question. I know why Peyton didn’t want me knowing, because I’d have put his ass in jail, but Owen doesn’t know that, so I play the part I’m meant to.
“Knock him out,” Owen says like it’s obvious.
I narrow my gaze, and Owen reaches out and brushes his fingers along my jaw.
“You’re distracting me,” I hiss.
Owen’s laugh is deep and far too seductive, but it’s gone quickly. “Peyton seems to know you.”
Fuck.
“I hadn’t met the man until our conversation at the gala,” I say. “He does seem to know far more about you, me, and the company than he should.”
“You think he’s the one that’s been on Noah’s radar?”
“I want to say yes, but you have so many other enemies. I wouldn’t rule out any of them until Peyton confirms it.”
“He says he knows exactly who’s after me.”
“He’s either an extremely convincing liar or an exceptional puppet master. I feel like our strings are being pulled without our knowledge. Like he knows everything, and we only have a single piece to the puzzle.”
Owen looks thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe I should hire him.”
I’m leaning toward that same conclusion. I think Peyton knows far more than either of us. The problem is: I don’t trust him one bit. He has no loyalty. He only wants the side where he comes out on top.
I drop my head in my hands, confused and ungrounded.
When I finally look up, Owen is watching me. A deep wrinkle takes up space between his eyes.
“If I hire him, I can’t take you back,” he says miserably.
“Why?”
Owen doesn’t speak right away, his features twisting into silent rage. “He touched you.”
It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t what I was expecting. I let my face soften and inch closer to him. “Owen, I can handle that. You know I can.”
Owen shakes his head, his rage turning into something resembling sadness. “You shouldn’t have to.”
I don’t know why, but I laugh. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have to deal with unwanted advances or touching, but I can’t change others. All I can do is keep fighting.”
Owen grabs my chin and rests his forehead against mine. “Has anyone ever fought for you?” he whispers against my lips.
I squeeze my eyes shut as a lump forms in the back of my throat. “No.”
Owen inhales, and I cannot tell if he’s angry or surprised by my answer.
“Let me fight for you. Please.”
It’s a broken plea, and I want to say yes. I want to let him in. I want to give in to this beautiful illusion we’ve created.
I abruptly pull back, and Owen drops his hand to his side.
“You have to fight for yourself first,” I choke out. It’s the truth, and he must realize that.
Owen shakes his head. “I’m already a lost cause, Nova.”
I want to ask him what he means when there’s a loud knock on the door. We both jump at the sound, and Owen swears under his breath. He gets up quickly and pulls on his sweatpants before striding for the front door.
Tiptoeing behind him, I grab a knife off the kitchen counter and keep myself hidden behind the kitchen wall.
“Noah.” Owen’s voice sounds relieved.
“I didn’t hear from either of you, so I forced your brother to give me this address.” Noah sounds furious.
Stepping out from the doorway, I lower the hand holding the knife.
“Morning, Noah. We’re fine,” I say as Noah’s eyes drop to the weapon and my bare legs.
He raises an eyebrow, suddenly amused.
I point the knife at him. “Don’t tempt me this morning. I’m not in the mood.”
Noah laughs. “In that case, I’ll talk to the boss while you go get yourself a cup of coffee. You look like you need it.”
I scoff but storm back to the kitchen. The two men step outside into the garden, and I watch them for a while from the kitchen window.
Noah’s features soon melt from anger to something resembling joy, and it’s not hard to imagine what Owen is saying to him.
It’s easy to become enraptured with Owen, and I realize now that’s part of the reason why he’s so successful at what he does.
It’s also why I’ve been so drawn to him since the moment I met him.
Once they both realized neither of them was a threat to me, it appears they’ve developed an unlikely friendship. A friendship that will likely be ruined by all my secrets.
I’m not only lying to Owen. I’m lying to Noah, too. And though Noah understands a little more about why I need to, it still leaves me feeling defeated.
As their conversation drags on, I finally pull away from the window and decide to take a look around the house.
There isn’t much, but I start in the living room and scan the shelves of books. Most are on topics such as botany, herbalism, regenerative agriculture, and permaculture. There are a few on business and a few suspense novels, but that seems to be all.
I make my way to the couch and plop down on the soft leather, taking another sip of coffee. My eyes catch on the stack of books on the side table, and I cock my head to read the titles.
One of them has my heart stopping in my chest.
Nature’s Poisons and Their Ecological and Biological Uses.
With a shaky hand, I set down the coffee cup and carefully pull out the book.
Flipping through the pages, I find highlighted lines and notes in the margins. Owen focused on plants that grow in California, highlighting their properties, where they are found, and the potency of the poison. There are calculations of doses in the margins with question marks.
Fuck.
This is the evidence I’ve been looking for. It’s staring me right in the face, and I suddenly find myself shaking so hard I cannot even turn the pages.
As if the book burned me, I chuck it on the couch, staring at the open page it landed on. After what feels like minutes, I force myself to grab my phone.
I have no intention of sending anyone photos of the book or Owen’s notes, but I realize if I’m going to fight for him, I have to know what I’m up against. I snap the photos, hoping they don’t turn out blurry because of my trembling hands.
When I’m done, I put the book back where I found it and pull on shoes and a jacket and trudge outside. I need air.
I walk around the garden, hardly noticing the beauty and wildness of it. The light reflects off dew drops, creating the illusion that the flowers’ petals are actually glowing. I can hear Noah and Owen talking, but their voices are distant and muffled.
Turning around to the southern side of the house, my feet crunching lightly on the stone path, my eye catches on a familiar plant.
I bend down to study it. Foxglove. It was one of the poisonous plants highlighted in Owen’s book.
It can cause irregular heart function and even death—the cause of death of the first victim.
I can’t help but notice how beautiful the flowers are, but the thing that causes tears to sting my eyes is what’s next to the plant. There are obvious cuttings and evidence that a significant amount was taken away.
Snapping a few more photos, I still don’t want to believe what I’m seeing, even if I knew the truth long before this. Even if I ignored it.
I lazily make my way around the rest of the house, my trembling never slowing. Owen and Noah’s voices long ago faded as they went inside for more coffee.
Seeing more evidence, I take photos of all of it. I don’t remember the other poisonous plants or how they kill their victims. At this point, it doesn’t matter.
Part of me wanted to believe he was innocent. That I’d never find anything, because there wasn’t anything to find.
I knew better.
I’m completely numb when I reach the front of the house again, but before I can enter, Owen’s laughter greets me at the door. The numbness fades, and my heart shatters into a million pieces. I clutch my chest, the unshed tears finally spilling down my cheeks.