Chapter 9
Kara - Present
“Great speech, Owen.” Jules stands up and gives Owen a hug. He reaches forward and embraces her warmly, but his eyes meet mine. There is no hiding the emotion on my face—I’m pissed. He may not have seen me for years, but he knows me well enough to know that.
“Lucy.” His gaze flickers downward for a second before lifting, hesitation clouding his eyes.
I plaster on a fake smile.
“Yes, it was a wonderful speech.” There’s an edge to my tone, which Jules obviously senses because she excuses herself, looking behind as she makes a hasty retreat. Owen stands, looking down at me. I take a sip of water, hoping the moment will douse my annoyance.
“I can’t decide what I’m more disappointed about,” I respond, letting out a sigh.
“The fact that you have become one of the very people I dislike more than anything in the world, or that you have used our shitty childhood to help propel your political career. Do I really mean nothing to you? They are going to be desperate to look up our history. This is going to make things even more complicated.”
He smirks. “I don’t think you have any idea how complicated this situation is,” he says, dropping his voice.
I shift as he pulls out a chair and sits next to me.
“Things were left out of that file for a reason. Whoever was going to be assigned to me would get told in person, after I had a read of them.” He leans closer, his voice low so that no one can hear.
“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, taking on this assignment. ”
“And you have no idea the target you have just put on your back by making the announcement you have just made.” His hand rests on my thigh, his other arm coming around my waist as he starts to pull me closer.
His legs widen so they are either side of my chair.
He glances at my lips and back into my eyes.
“But you’ll protect me,” he says confidently as he starts to lean in closer, the warmth from his body making my pulse beat rapidly. “Andrews said he would give me his best. I had no idea it would be you.”
“It makes perfect sense for it to be me. Now shut up and kiss me whilst everyone is still entranced with your every move.”
He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and closes the distance between us.
His tongue wets his bottom lip as his green eyes drop to my mouth.
My pulse is fast, my body heating as I wait for him to close the distance.
To have his lips on mine, something as a sixteen-year-old girl I had felt many times.
His mouth touches mine, a coaxing, exploratory kiss. My lips part and a deep moan comes from the back of his throat as his tongue entwines with mine softly. His hand wraps around my neck in a possessive way as he holds me to him, all the while our mouths and tongue move in an erotic dance.
I am so fucked.
This man’s mouth is devilish. I’ve completely forgotten that I’m in a room full of people and this is a bloody mission, because my hands have fallen onto his thick thighs and my nails grip hold. I want to crawl onto him and continue this exploration with other parts of his body. To see the changes.
He shifts and suddenly his lips are gone. When I open my eyes, I’m staring into wide, green pools.
“Fuck,” he breathes, touching his forehead to mine. “I need a minute.”
I let out a chuckle and stand, holding my hand to his. “We need to leave,” I announce.
“Why?”
“Because that got too heated, and now people are going to expect us to go. So that’s what we are going to do. We are making the papers tomorrow, regardless. May as well give them more to talk about.” I grab my clutch bag off the table and he stands, taking my hand in his.
“I need to be here a bit longer. There are people I need to talk to.”
“You can do it on the way out.”
I start to navigate him slowly towards the exit. People do their usual and stop him on the way.
“You’re going?” Jules calls, surprised.
“Yes, I’ll see you on Monday.” Owen leans forward and kisses both her cheeks. “Give the kids a squishy kiss and tickle from their Uncle Owen.”
She rolls her eyes and looks at me. “Owen riles them up without fail just before bedtime. Drives me fucking insane.”
I grin and squeeze his hand. He used to do the same to me and then would lie with me until I fell asleep. Which would sometimes take hours.
The little glow in the dark stars that were on my ceiling would twinkle down on us. We would lie there and stare at them together, talking about our futures. Dreaming of a better life.
Nothing in my wildest imagination would put us here, though. He dreamed of owning his own gardening design company, but my dreams were simpler.
To survive that house until I was eighteen, then leave.
A few servers mill around us, clearing tables and looking busy. There are a few though who stand closer, who show too much interest in what we are doing.
My senses heighten, my body prickling as I become more alert to every single movement around us.
People talk, Jules and Owen laugh and joke easily, but it’s the servers who I home in on.
The clinking of a champagne glass rings as one carefully puts the flutes onto the tray that he’s balancing, when suddenly it drops. The glasses shatter on to the floor, shards exploding everywhere.
The other two servers rush over quickly and start to help clear away the broken glass. Owen and Jules are in deep conversation, but my focus is directly on these three servers.
Something’s off.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, my body tenses as I watch, wait, and assess.
Each server glances around, one picks up the stem of a broken wine glass.
The other leans under a table. Anyone else would see a couple of servers cleaning up their mess, reaching under the table to pick up more shards of the glasses.
But that’s not what they are doing. No, the man has reached his hand up under the table and is now holding something black.
Fuck.
So much for our intel saying there was no threat tonight.
“We need to—” A loud noise erupts from the main doors to the hall, screams of terror drowning out the music that’s playing.
“What in the hell—” Jules doesn’t finish her sentence; her words lost on her lips as her eyes widen. She looks down at her body, confused. Blood pools on her beautiful dress from the bullet that has ripped through her back, through her chest cavity, and is now lodged somewhere in her heart.
She blinks, and Owen looks shocked with her blood splattered on his face. She sags towards him, Owen catching her in his arms, falling to the floor and gently lays her on the floor.
“Juliette…?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. “Juliette…” He reaches to her chest to stem the blood that is already pooling around them. I’m standing over him, but my attention is on the three servers who are approaching our position.
Carnage.
Utter carnage has unfolded in the space of twenty seconds. Shouts and screams of the terrified dinner guests overwhelm the hall. That bang was likely an explosion to create the right amount of chaos, allowing these three chaps to take out Owen.
I reach down to my leg and grab the knife strapped to my thigh.
Pulling it away smoothy, I pull up and find my target, releasing the knife where it flies the five metres to the server with the gun, lodging in his chest. The blade pierces his heart, killing him instantly, and with it, taking out the biggest threat.
The two remaining servers charge, and I step in front of Owen.
“She’s gone, Owen. Get under that table.”
“No.” He jumps up next to me, confused and upset, still trying to protect me.
I don’t have time to argue. I run forward and dip under the swinging blade that’s arching through the air aimed at me and bring my elbow to the side of the server’s head. At the same time, I sweep my right leg round his and trip him, bringing him to the floor.
There is nothing attractive about my fighting.
It’s not like in the films where it’s choreographed to perfection and looks like a flowing dance. I’ve been trained to take people out in the quickest, deadliest way. And yes, sometimes that’s ruthless and messy.
I spin around and grab for a broken wine glass, slicing it along his throat. The glass cuts through skin and cartilage, blood spurting from the opening as the assassin chokes on his own blood.
The one remaining server is too close to Owen, who is looking at me like I’m a stranger.
Which I am.
Juliette’s blood covers his hands and his deathly pale face. He’s frozen. This isn’t what he’s used to, this isn’t his world.
This is mine.
I charge at the man, who is now running at Owen. Using one of the closest chairs, I run, jump up onto it, and launch myself at the offender’s body in a messy rugby tackle.
We fly into the table, the centre piece obliterated as we hit the vase and tumble to the other side.
Pain splinters through my side and ribs, the breath exploding out of me as I’m winded. I wince out a curse as another explosion rocks the room. Sound, dust and debris along with more screams momentarily stuns me.
I don’t have time to wait for the other server to get up. There is no mistaking that sound, and if whoever is doing this is happy to create not one but two explosions at a charity event, then I need to get Owen out. And fast.
Owen hits the deck in reaction to the explosion.
God, I hope he hasn’t been hit. Otherwise, I’ve failed before I even got started.
I leap back across the table and crouch down next to him, where he’s staring at the expressionless, glassy eyes of his personal assistant, Jules.
“Owen.” He doesn’t move; his body frozen in shock. I move position and crouch down in front of him.
“Look at me.” I grab his chin and hold his eyes to mine.
“When I move you move, if I tell you to get down, you get the fuck down. If I tell you to run, you run, and you do not look back. Whoever is after you will use this room and this chaos to target you. We need to get you out of here. Do you understand?”