Chapter 22
Natalie’s stomach was a ball of nerves. It churned viciously to the point where she thought she might be sick. Fear gripped her in its iron fist, refusing to loosen its hold as they walked down the stairs.
Right toward the assassins.
“Remember the exits,” Owen said.
“That’s only if we run into the men.” Then she understood. They would definitely be facing off with the assholes.
“If they approach us outside, run to the truck.” He handed her the keys.
Truck. He wanted her to go to the truck. Right. She could do that.
While he fought the men.
The same ones who’d tried to kill her.
The same faction who’d murdered Virgil and Charlotte.
The same group who’d kidnapped Orrin and killed his team.
Natalie kept her gaze straight ahead. It was everything she could do to put one foot in front of the other. For the first time, she truly understood the whole “fight or flight” thing.
Because she fought the urge to turn and run the other way.
Owen was confident they would get away. There was no reason for her not to think he was right. Except for the whole Russians-wanting-to-kill-her thing. And to think, she’d lobbied to talk to Irina Matveev.
She inwardly shook her head. What had she been thinking? Being with Owen gave her false bravado, but the reality was right before her. And she was scared shitless.
Her eyes locked on Owen’s fine ass as he walked ahead of her. He fought with conviction and confidence, knowing he would win. Not once had he shown an ounce of fear.
It made her wonder how many people he’d saved as a SEAL. How many times had he been in such scenarios where he had to get past others trying to kill him?
Probably too many to count. But he was still standing. He was the one beside her.
She took a deep breath, her terror easing its smothering hold. All she had to do was follow his instructions to get to the truck. The rest would be on him.
Her hand went to the strap of her purse. It was up to her to ensure that no one got their hands on Ragnarok. Her chin lifted. She could do this.
She would do this.
As they passed a hallway, she glanced up and saw the cameras. They were everywhere. Not to mention people about campus. And lest she forget, the men after them most likely had weapons. All of it pointed to the possibility of Owen getting hurt.
Owen was an imposing individual with his wide shoulders, intense stare, and don’t-fuck-with-me manner. His upbringing made him strong, honorable, and resilient.
His years in the SEALs had tempered him like a piece of steel. There was a fierceness that hadn’t been there before. A savage, brutal side honed in war.
It was in his walk, in the way he thought. In his very being. He was a warrior through and through. A man who fought for his country and his family without hesitation or thought for himself.
That’s who had saved her from the Russian assassins.
That’s who was going to get her safely back to the ranch.
He halted at the doors of the science building and turned to her. “Get to the truck while I hold them off.”
“Do you want my pistol?”
He gave a shake of his head.
She kept forgetting that Owen was a weapon. But he still couldn’t stop a bullet.
“Look around. We’re in a public place. They’re going to have to watch themselves not to bring attention.”
She gave a nod he was expecting. “Right.”
“Ready?” he asked.
She might not have seen pictures of Orrin’s team being executed. She hadn’t seen the men surrounding her mother’s house before Owen came for her.
But one of the brutes had gotten his hands on her. They had killed Virgil and Charlotte.
They had orders to kill her.
The group would do whatever it took to find the vial. That meant the odds of someone getting injured—or even killed—were elevated no matter how highly trained Owen was.
She’d felt safe on the ranch. Ever since they’d left, she’d been looking over her shoulder, waiting for the men to find her.
There was nothing like having your life threatened to put things into perspective. Like admitting what she craved.
Years ago, Owen had walked away without explanation. It didn’t matter what had intertwined their lives again. He was risking his life to protect her instead of finding his father.
Life could be snuffed out so easily. She wasn’t going to walk out those doors until she gave in to what her heart desired most.
She grabbed his shirt with both hands. He frowned down at her, his chocolate gaze searching hers. Before she changed her mind, she pressed her lips against his.
In the next heartbeat, his arms wound around her, holding her firmly. He slanted his lips over hers. She might have begun it, but he quickly took over.
He groaned and deepened the kiss. The taste of him was erotic. Her body came alive in an instant, opening and readying—for him. Her breasts swelled, aching for his touch. Her sex throbbed with need as her blood heated.
It was her turn to moan when his hand delved into her hair, gripping it to hold her head still as the kiss heated. Excitement burned through her.
His large hands ran down her back to her waist and hips before he pulled her against him. His arousal pressed into her stomach, causing passion to sizzle through her.
The kiss turned fiery, scorching her with the hunger she tasted—and felt. He was everything she’d ever wanted. This was what they were supposed to be. Owen was always supposed to be her happy ending.
Was it fate that sent them on different paths only to bring them together again?
He ended the kiss and looked down at her with tenderness and passion. “Don’t pull back now. Not after that.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “I missed your kisses and your taste.”
She ran her hands over his thick shoulders, unwilling to talk. He wanted what she couldn’t give, and she couldn’t tell him that now.
“Don’t think. Feel what’s between us. It’s swallowing me whole, Nat, and I can’t be going down that road alone.”
She pulled out of his arms, but he didn’t let her get far. He cupped her cheek. A heartbeat later, he dropped his arms and faced the exit.
Then he pushed open the doors without another word about the kiss or his desires.
They strode out of the building side by side.
She spotted the Taurus’s car doors open, and two Russians unfolding their large frames from the vehicle.
They stood tall and daunting with their gazes locked on her and Owen.
Owen gave her hand a squeeze for encouragement. “Let them get close.”
Pretending not to know the men were walking their way, she and Owen continued toward the truck. The closer they got to the vehicle, the better she felt. Until she saw another man come around the truck.
He was taller than the others, with sandy blond hair and black eyes. She imagined he was cut from granite there were so many bulging muscles.
While her steps faltered, Owen’s didn’t. He kept walking as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Can I help you?” Owen asked the third man.
He smiled coldly and jerked his square chin to the building. “You had a long visit.”
She’d hoped the man was just someone from the campus, but the Russian accent put a vicious, brutal end to that. She looked around to find they were alone with the men.
“Stay calm,” Owen mumbled under his breath.
She almost snorted at the absurdity of his comment. There was nothing relaxed about the situation, or any way for her to remain that way since she’d never been calm to begin with.
She’d been on pins and needles since she saw Ragnarok mentioned in the report. Calm seemed as far away as the moon at the moment.
“And what business is it of yours?” Owen asked as he came to a halt ten feet from the truck.
She stopped beside him, her heart thumping so loudly she was sure everyone could hear. She glanced behind her and saw the other two men closing in.
“Do not play innocent,” the giant stated with a warning look in her direction. “Give us what we want. Perhaps then the Saints will allow your father to live.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Owen replied.
The mention of the Saints caught her attention. She didn’t have time to think more on it as her attention shifted to Owen when he gave her hand a squeeze. He didn’t seem deterred by the giant or his questions.
“Ragnarok. Give it.”
Owen threw out his hands before letting his arms fall to his sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What is Ragnarok? Is that why my father went missing?”
She wanted to applaud. She was so thrilled at how easily Owen turned the questions on the man and made himself look innocent and ignorant of the facts at the same time.
But it infuriated the giant. His face went red and his lips twisted. “Three sons were brought to Texas.”
Owen nodded slowly. “Our aunt and uncle were killed, and our father is missing. Obviously, you had something to do with that.”
With eight little words, Owen’s entire attitude changed. He went from unassuming to hardline. The change happened while he spoke, shocking even the giant.
The smile that Owen wore was cold and deadly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
That was her cue. She took a few stumbling steps back as Owen rushed the giant. She chanced a look over her shoulder to see the other two men rush to help their comrade.
It was a melee of fists, elbows, kicks, and grunts. The crunch of bone echoed in her ears. She gave Owen and the giant a wide berth.
Owen was quick, and his punches landed accurately, but the Russian was a good foot taller with an extended reach. She winced when the giant’s fist connected with Owen’s face.
The other two joined in on the fight. She wanted to help, but she wouldn’t be any use. She wrapped her hands around the grip of the pistol in her purse. But she didn’t draw it.
Instead, she raced toward the truck as Owen had told her to do, clicking the unlock button on the key fob. She threw open the door and jumped inside. Only then did she look toward Owen to see him holding his own against the three big Russians.
To her surprise, the sound of sirens rang in the air. The men broke apart, and without a word, they rushed to their respective vehicles.
Natalie started the engine and drove toward Owen, who hopped in with the vehicle still rolling.