Chapter 47
Lucy - Present
The safehouse is as we left it, the bottle of ketchup still sitting on the side, along with our plates with left over crumbs.
“We’re going to need to get you some clothes,” I say as I throw the key onto the small bench and wash up.
“I’m going to need to get my laptop and phone sorted. I’ll need to go to the office to do that.”
“Okay. In the meantime, use mine. You probably need to do some damage control.”
“My thoughts exactly. No doubt I’ve got interview invites, too; what do you want me to do with those?”
“What would you normally do?” I ask, putting away the plates.
“I’d take what is worthwhile and leave what isn’t.”
“So do that,” I say, waving my hand. “We’re supposed to be going back to normal, remember?”
“Okay, in which case, office, schedule check, then I’m afraid to say I’ve got another dinner to go to.”
I groan. “Because the last one was so fun.”
“Yeah, well. This one will be worth it, as it’s with a friend at NCA. I’ve been thinking he’s our route in. God knows why I haven’t thought of him sooner. Which means we need to sort the hard drive, otherwise it’s a missed opportunity. I don’t want to say anything unless I can show him.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I ask, leaning over the counter where he sits on the island chair. He leans forward and kisses my forehead.
I don’t think I’m going to get used to the soft touches, the gentle caress, the lingering gazes.
“You’re going to want to try to plan this next phase out, but I think we’re better off winging it.”
“You want to wing it?”
“Not completely,” he says. “What I mean is we stick to the plan, which is going back to normal, but I do think we are going to need to take the risk and trust others. Nick is trustworthy. We give some of the information from the hard drive to him.”
“I’m not sure.”
“I’m also suggesting we do a two-pronged attack. I give it to Nick, but I also leak it to the press. It’s a logical next step. The sooner it’s out in the public domain, the less of a target we have on our backs.”
“One problem…we need the hard drive working for that plan. And right now—”
“We’re up shit creek without a paddle,” he says, and I smile.
“How long would it normally take Luca to reply?”
“It should be soon if he’s looking.”
“We’re going to need to think of a Plan B if Luca doesn’t come through.
There’s a contract out on my head. You’re now as much protection for me as I am for you.
They won’t target me if I’m in the public domain with you.
Our world is about being subtle. Assassinating me whilst standing next to the leader of a new political party will not look good for business. ”
“Ahh, so the tables have turned.” He leans in, eyes locked on mine, breath brushing my lips and gently takes my mouth in his. “See, I knew I’d still be able to protect you.”
I smile into his mouth as his tongue brushes against mine.
“You need to go to the office,” I say, breaking the kiss. “Let’s check Reddit before you go.”
He pouts, and I let out a laugh before walking through the small flat and grabbing my burner phone from the top drawer.
Powering it on, I log in and go to the post.
“Holy shit,” I say, looking up to where Owen is now standing. “It worked!”
“What? Really?”
“Why do you seem so surprised? This was your plan?”
“Yeah, I know, but that was before you said he faked his death.”
“I’ve no idea what it means. Here.” I pass him the phone and watch as it illuminates his features in the dimly lit apartment.
“Can you get me a pen and paper?”
He’s quiet as he alternates from looking at the phone to taking notes on the paper.
“It’s a meeting place.” He frowns. “That’s weird, right?” He passes back the phone. “See there? That’s the time, place and date.”
“Is that One Time Pad cipher? Not many people use this nowadays. Was popular in World War II, used by the Russians.”
“He said his dad taught him or something.”
I tap my lips, shaking my head. “It’s not him,” I say, grabbing the paper.
“But it’s exactly the code we use. Who would know that?”
“Luca’s dad wasn’t Russian. Besides, he understood what disappearing would mean. He knows he can’t come back to London. I’m telling you, Owen, it’s not him. We’ll go ahead with the meet, but we need to be clever about it.”
“Aren’t we always?” he replies, and I roll my eyes.
“Police. Interview. Need I say more?”
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“What, you mean calling out the people who want the hard drive and us dead. No, Owen, I’m not going to let you live that one down.”
“It’s not been too bad.”
“Oh God, you’ve gone all politician man on me, glossing over the shit storm behind your smile and using diversion tactics.”
“What diversion tactics?” he asks, pulling me into his arms.
“These tactics.”
“Hmmm.” He places a kiss on my lips and pulls back smiling. “I seem to remember you’re the inventor of this misdirection.”
He kisses me, and like every other time, everything stops.
“Owen, please,” I mumble, “I’m trying to come up with a plan. And you’re supposed to be going to the office, remember?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to scout the location. Make sure your calendar is clear for tomorrow.”
“Yes, dear.”
I pinch him. “I’m a dangerous woman, you know.”
He raises an eyebrow and leans forward, brushing his nose against mine. “What about going back to my apartment for clothes?”
“I’ll add that to my to do list. I’ll rendezvous with you back here for 18:00.”
“Or, you know, you’ll meet me back here at six o’clock. I’ll grab dinner.”
“Honey, I’m home,” I say, dropping the bag onto the hallway floor.
I’ve spent the afternoon scoping out the bar and managed to find the perfect spot that allows me to see the entrance and exit. From there, it was back to Owen’s apartment to grab a bag full of his stuff, including a photo album that I sat and looked at for well over twenty minutes.
Owen is exactly where I thought he would be. At the kitchen counter, laptop on, phone next to it, and with glasses on.
Hello, Mr Politician.
I pause and look at him, as he glances over to where I’ve walked into the open plan living space.
“All okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, no drama. You?”
“Same. Should we be concerned about that?”
I shake my head and head over to the kettle. “No. They won’t make a move whilst you’re at a government building. Too many eyes, too much security.”
“Well, I guess I’ll be moving into Parliament then.”
I laugh. “Want a cuppa?”
“Tea?”
“As opposed to what?”
“I just wouldn’t peg you for a tea drinker,” he says, smiling and pulling his glasses off.
I step forward and take them out his hand, placing them carefully back on. “I think these should stay on.” My voice comes out huskier than I meant it to.
Turns out Owen in glasses, totally a turn on.
His green eyes look sharper, the light reflecting onto his pupils. The black frames act like honing beacons to his eyes, which were always my favourite thing about him.
“You got a thing for glasses?”
“I have a thing for you in glasses.”
He reaches forward, his hands wrapping around my arse and pulls me to him. I go willingly; it turns out I’ll always go willingly with this man. Even if I’m still conflicted.
“Is your calendar clear for tomorrow?” I ask as he leans forward and smells my neck, moaning as he takes in my scent.
“Cookies, my favourite.”
“You’ve become a horny teenager,” I scold, even though I’m wrapping my arms around his waist, dropping them to his firm arse and squeezing.
“I really, really want to fuck you,” he says, peppering kisses against my neck, up to my earlobe, and pulling it between his teeth as he sucks. His warm breath sends shivers down my spine, goosebumps rising across my flesh as I suppress a shiver and moan.
“And I really, really want you to fuck me,” I admit, tilting my head so he can access my neck further. “But I’m being a really bad bodyguard right now.”
“You’re being the best bodyguard,” he says, pulling back and kissing me deeply before continuing. “You’re not letting me out of your sight. I’ll even let you go on top so that you can reach your gun and shoot anyone who threatens us.”
I laugh between more kisses, his hands gripping my arse tighter as he undulates his hips against me.
“Besides, as I hired you, doesn’t that make me the boss and you have to do what I say?”
“Nah, your contract was with Apex Security. This is pro bono.”
“I’m pro bono.”
I giggle.
“Can I ask you something?”
He pulls back, his pupils dilated, lips swollen. Hair dishevelled, glasses still on. This man will be the death of me, figuratively and literally.
“Always?”
“When I was at your place, I found something.”
“A spare copy of the hard drive.”
I roll my eyes. “Ha, ha.” I unravel myself from him, and he pouts his disappointment. Walking to the duffel bag with his belongings, I open it and grab the book, then place it on the counter table that is now between us.
“What’s this?” I ask, nodding to the photo book.
“A book.”
“Yes, but why do you have it?”
He tilts his head, not replying, taking in my expression. He reaches up and runs his thumb over his lips, and my eyes drop to the movement.
“Do you really not want to remember anything from our childhood?” he asks, leaning forward and opening the book. “There were some good times, Luce. I choose to focus on those. This book is my reminder of that.”
He opens it randomly to a page, his face lighting up with a grin as he looks at a picture and turns the book round. I groan.
“You remember that day, right?” He grins at me.
I rub my hands down my face to hide my embarrassment that swells through me. “It was your fault.”
The picture is of the four of us standing in front of the teacups at a theme park.
I had just been very, very sick in the bin that sits out of shot. James, Maria and Owen are all smiling at the camera, big grins on their face. Me? I look positively green.
“You keep blaming me, Cookie. But it was James who turned that wheel so much. I think we all came off a little peaky.”
“Peaky. I projectile vomited!”
He leans back and laughs and turns the page to another photo.
“And this one, tell me what you remember,” he prompts, spinning the book back around.
I look at the picture. It’s of James in the middle, Owen on one side, and me on the other. James has his hands on both our shoulders, we are standing in front of the very pond that I almost drowned in.
Maria behind the camera.
The colours of the trees are oranges, reds and browns. The sun lower in the sky and reflecting off the water.
It’s a beautiful picture, capturing a lovely moment. My chest’s warm, and I glance up to look at Owen.
“You were eight, and I was six.”
“And…”
“We were feeding the ducks, because we had been looking after an injured one. It had broken its wing.”
He nods.
“It was right before James started to—”
“Get violent,” Owen finishes for me, and our eyes meet.
“Why keep that one, if that’s what you remember?”
“Because it reminds me that James wasn’t always an arsehole. And I like to try and remember the parts where he didn’t beat me black and blue.”
I snort. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“I’m not asking you to forget what he did, Luce. I’d never ask that of you. But at some point, you need to forgive him.”
“You want me to forgive him?” I pull back, a flash of heat rushing through my body like hot lava.
He holds his hands up, placating. “For you. You have to forgive him for you. You can’t hold on to that hatred. Not forever.”
“I fucking can,” I spit. “That man took everything from me.”
Owen walks around the counter and rests his hands on my shoulder.
“And he took everything from me. More than I ever realised until yesterday. But I forgive him. Because I don’t want to hold on to that anger.
I don’t want that hatred to build in me like a disease and taint all the good of my past. Because Luce, it would taint this. It would taint us.”
“It’s already tainted us. Our whole past, Owen. He took it all.”
“But he can’t take any more. Don’t let him.
” He leans forward, resting his head on my forehead before placing a soft kiss and pulling back.
“You can let that hatred fester in you, or you can choose to let it go. But I’ve stopped letting my past dictate my future. I’ve come to terms with what happened—”
“Even the fact that I was the reason you were put in prison for seven years?” I pull back and shake my head. “I’m sorry, but no. I can’t just accept it all, and just…what? Move on and forgive?”
“It will eat you alive, Luce. I can see it in everything you do. I can see it in the way you look at me. You’re blaming him, you’re blaming me, you’re blaming Maria.
Hell, you’re even blaming yourself. But you can’t change anything, just like I can’t.
I could hate you, I could walk away from you knowing you’re to blame for me losing seven years of my life. But I won’t.”
I’m silent, letting his words wash over me.
“I get it,” he says quietly. “I get every single emotion you’re feeling, and it’s okay to feel that way, but I’m done holding onto the pain of the past. There is bigger stuff going on right now, and whilst I want you to deal with it, and need you to deal with it, right now—”
His head lowers, sighing.
Pain bursts through my chest, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
“I need you Luce, more than you will ever know. But I need the badass woman I hired to navigate this with me, because I don’t know what to do.
All I know is I’m shit scared that we are in the middle of a conspiracy that will change everything.
And I can’t. No. I won’t let our past fuck this up.
So please.” His eyes scorch into mine, his hands back on my shoulders as he bends down, so his eyes meet mine.
“Please help me. I love you, Luce. But right now, I need the strength of Kara.”
I take in his words, the warmth of his hands on my shoulders, the emotion that claws at my throat and chest like it’s ripping through me. The pain of my past which is fucking with every single ounce of my head.
But even as I have my inner battle, I’m nodding my head.
Because he’s right; he doesn’t need this version of me. He needs Kara Snow. The version that Andrews spent years training, years and years of honing my skills and psychological ability to deal with shit like I should be doing now.
But I’ve lost my way. I’ve become the broken person that he once found. I’m not that person anymore.
“You’re right,” I say, my voice hoarse. I look at the picture book and pick it up. “Can I borrow this?” I ask, as Owen stares at me, probably wondering why I haven’t blown a gasket and am not swearing or arguing with him.
“Of course.”
I reach forward and grab his hand, squeezing it.
“I’ll be back.” I pick up the photo book, hugging it to my chest and walk to the bedroom as I close the door.
Leaving Owen standing in the small kitchen.