Chapter 6
The last time Natalie looked at the clock it was well after two in the morning. Ever since she’d left the Loughman Ranch, Owen’s image and memories of their year together wouldn’t leave her.
They churned through her mind on replay, reminding her of everything that had been wonderful—and everything that had gone so terribly wrong.
Research on Ragnarok—or any bioweapon—only jumbled her mind, bringing her thoughts right back to Owen. She didn’t find anything useful anyway. Attempting to sleep proved just as ridiculous. Closing her eyes brought him into focus even more.
She thought about how close he’d stood to her just hours before.
How he’d touched her, and her body responded as if it had been fourteen minutes since he’d last held her and not fourteen years.
How deep his voice had been. That sexy, roughened Texas drawl had always made her stomach flutter. When they’d graduated, he’d been on the cusp of adulthood. A man in all his powerful and masculine glory had stood before her earlier.
Owen hadn’t been like most teenagers. He’d always been determined and motivated. He’d known what he wanted—and what he didn’t. And just like his brothers, he kept most everything to himself.
While she’d been wondering what to do with her life, Owen had known all along what his future held. And it hadn’t been her.
She’d thought they were so close. While she spilled every secret, wish, and desire, Owen had slowly been closing himself off to her. She’d been so absorbed with graduating and attending college that she hadn’t noticed him pulling away. Until he was gone.
For years, she blamed him. It was only over the last five that she realized the fault lay with her. She was the one too blind to see the changes. Perhaps if she had, she would’ve been able to talk to him.
But in the end, it all would’ve turned out exactly as it had.
Owen hadn’t loved her enough to stay. Not like he’d told her he had. The obligation running through all Loughmans to serve their country was stronger than anything else.
Even love.
Natalie must have finally dozed off to sleep after tossing and turning. She was dreaming of Owen. She knew it was a dream, because he was with her, whispering her name as he caressed her face.
Then they were racing across the ranch atop horses with moonlight cascading around them, carefree and in love. Laughing, with a future together waiting for them.
A hand clamped over her mouth. Natalie’s eyes flew open as fear froze her in place.
“Nat.”
Owen. She stared at the face hidden in shadows above her. Every shred of light was gone from the nightlight in the hallway to the streetlamp outside.
“We need to leave,” Owen whispered, the urgency in his words forcing her to take in the situation.
Despite the fact that it had been years since she’d seen Owen, she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t have broken into her house as a joke. He was here for a reason.
And that reason was the Russians.
She knew without being told that they must’ve been following her. Without asking questions, she rolled out of bed. His hand on her back pushed her low to the ground. How was she supposed to get any clothes on?
Natalie would figure something out. She crawled toward her suitcase, but Owen’s arm wound around her waist as he lifted her and turned her to the window.
She halted, because she wasn’t going out in her nightgown. But Owen had other ideas when he gave her a firm push. She looked back at him but still couldn’t see his face.
There was an air of danger, of necessity she couldn’t shake. Natalie decided against talking and did exactly as Owen wanted.
When she reached the window, she felt a cool breeze. This window was usually stuck. How was it that Owen had not only opened it but also did it so she hadn’t heard?
She rose on her knees and peered out the window. In the next second, she was on her back with Owen on top of her. His weight reminded her of balmy nights spent beneath the stars together.
Of endless passion and never-ending kisses.
Of whispered promises.
Of love.
She closed her eyes and put the moment to memory. One of his legs lay between hers. She fought to remain still even as desire pulsed within her.
But he didn’t move. She began to wonder if he was even breathing. Fear began to nestle uncomfortably in her stomach. Something was very wrong.
Seconds turned to minutes. Then she heard the call of a Hoot owl. Except it wasn’t an owl. It was one of the Loughmans. She remembered how they’d perfected the calls of several native Texas animals while out hunting.
At the call, Owen rolled off her. In the next instant, she was once more in his arms as he lifted her out the window.
Natalie bit her lip to prepare for her bare feet to hit the ground littered with pinecones and numerous other plants that were just waiting to puncture the sensitive skin on the bottom of a foot.
Except her feet never touched the ground. She found herself in Wyatt’s arms while Cullen shoved a pair of boots on her feet. And they weren’t cowboy boots. They felt heavier and much too big.
Then it didn’t matter as Owen was suddenly beside her. She was set on her feet as Owen’s fingers wrapped around her wrist.
They didn’t take off running as she expected. They moved quietly and slowly from one tree to the other. Though the moon was out in the clear sky, it was only a fingernail and didn’t allow much in the way of light.
But Natalie still saw that it was Wyatt who led them, and Cullen who brought up the rear. Natalie was plastered to Owen’s body—her back to his front. His large hand was splayed over her stomach, guiding her.
Suddenly, a shadow came out of nowhere with a gun aimed at her. Owen shoved her aside. Natalie tripped over her too-large boots and fell to her hands and knees, scraping her skin. When she looked over her shoulder, Owen was locked in combat with a faceless man.
She waited for his brothers to join in, and that’s when she realized all three were fighting. Natalie heard a grunt from her left. Then she heard a soft pop, pop that she recognized as a gun with a silencer, and the bark of the tree she was against splintered near her face.
Someone had tried to shoot her. With her heart pounding, she ducked her head and scampered to another tree. She flattened her back to it, her gaze darting around the area, attempting to peer into the darkness.
Every breath felt like an eternity as she waited for Owen or his brothers to finish and find her, but the seconds stretched endlessly.
She heard something off to her left and realized someone was coming around to her. Natalie wasn’t going to sit and wait to be killed. They were going to have to work if they wanted her dead.
Slipping off the big boots, she used the tree to help her to her feet and glanced at the Loughmans. She couldn’t take her eyes off Owen. It didn’t matter how many movies she’d seen, witnessing such combat in close proximity was completely different.
And it drove home the danger.
Natalie bent low and moved to her right, toward Owen and his brothers. She came to another tree and used it as a shield. Yet she couldn’t find whoever was after her.
Her gaze returned to Owen. Each time a fist connected with skin, every crunch of bone, and every gurgle of pain she recoiled.
She winced when Owen got hit, and silently celebrated every strike he landed.
Then she heard something behind her. Her heart thumped wildly as she tried to dash away, but a big, meaty hand roughly grabbed her arm.
She was yanked around, and a gun shoved in her face.
“Now you die,” said a voice in a thick Russian accent.
She fought the man with everything she had. He was tall, and his massive hands held her as easily as if she were a child. She kicked and clawed until he backhanded her across her cheek, snapping her neck back.
She thought she heard someone shout her name, but she was struggling to stay conscious as darkness crept into the edges of her vision. Then she was falling, landing hard on the cold ground.
Someone touched her hair, and she tried to roll away. They held her easily. “It’s me, Natalie,” Cullen said.
That’s when she heard the loud grunts and the sound of bones breaking. Natalie raised her head to see Wyatt standing next to a dead body while Owen fought another.
It wasn’t much of a fight. Owen stood over the man who was on his knees attempting to deflect Owen’s blows to no avail. Then she saw the gleam of moonlight off something.
A knife.
She couldn’t dredge up an ounce of pity as Owen plunged the blade into the man’s heart. If it hadn’t been for Owen and his brothers, those men would’ve gotten her.
The deputy! “There is a—”
“They got to him first,” Wyatt whispered. “Just knocked him unconscious.”
“We’re leaving now.” Cullen helped her to her feet.
Owen was at her side again, leading her away from the scene. Cullen must have put her boots back on her, because once more, she fought to keep them on.
She lost track of time as she searched the darkness for anything to recall where they were while she stumbled her way around. Several times, Owen would halt while either Wyatt or Cullen disappeared, only to return a few moments later.
Natalie shivered in the night air. If only she still slept in her boxer PJs, she wouldn’t be feeling so .
. . exposed. Though she thought she knew her mother’s yard and the surrounding woods well enough, Natalie became lost within minutes of leaving the house.
She didn’t even know which direction they were traveling in.
Of course, that could have something to do with having her head rattled after such a hit.
Fear and anxiety were taking a toll. Combined with her lack of sleep and the attack, the only thing keeping her on her feet was adrenaline. And when that faded, she was likely to pass out.