Chapter 13 #2
“We’re the CIA for fucks’ sake. How did we not see that coming? Another thing that bothers me is that they knew I was in that market. They knew.”
“A trap just for you? Seems excessive to have twenty gunmen in a public market to only take you out.”
“I’m missing some critical information. I know I am.” I can’t help the frustration.
Ella changes the subject. “Got a text from Jax a few minutes ago.”
“What did the fucker say? I know he blew it way out of proportion. He always does.”
Ella may be my personal assistant, but she’s also my friend, and she’s no stranger to Jax and Evan’s antics.
“He said your boss is there.” She says the statement cautiously but with a hint of mischief.
“He gave me a ride, and being the polite person I am, I asked him to stay for a drink. He agreed.”
“There was also something about taking him home with them and karaoke and the fact that Jax thinks he’s the hottest man alive.” She says it all like it’s a question, and I know she’s trying to pry my thoughts from my head.
I grumble. “Says everyone.”
Ella laughs. “You don’t agree?”
I find myself pouting into the phone. “I never said I didn’t agree. I just don’t know why everyone always has to bring it up.”
Ella laughs harder. “Careful, Nova. Hot, murderous men are super dangerous.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” I groan.
She’s right. He is dangerous, and I keep forgetting that.
Her voice changes again, turning quiet and serious—almost scared. “Nova, if Eagan does find out that the companies Owen acquired were evil in some way, the deaths of those CEOs don’t get rid of the illegal activity—or the people that were involved in the illegal activity.”
“What are you saying?” Though I already know the answer.
“I’m saying you need to be more careful. Mr. Mills may be in danger, and you might be too.”
Something catches my eye, and I hang up the phone. A shadow moves silently through the trees outside the restaurant.
I freeze, straining my ears to listen for any movement. A chill races down my spine. The telltale sign I’m being watched.
My instincts kick in, having been in this exact scenario more times than I can count. I reach into my bag, pretending to search for something, acting oblivious to my surroundings.
Though I appear calm and clueless, my palms start to sweat, and I’m internally berating myself for not being more alert. I have no idea how much of the conversation the person in the shadows caught.
Finally wrapping my fingers around a red lipstick tube and a hand mirror, I pull them out and face the restaurant.
Usually, I would never turn my back on a potential threat, but if they wanted to harm me, they would have already done it. They are here for information.
But I’m here for the same thing, so I find myself in a bit of a standoff with the person in the shadows. Who will make the first move?
I take my time, applying the lipstick slowly, as if trying to make sure I get it exactly right. While I’m doing that, I peer at the mirror, watching for the shadows to shift.
As expected, they do not wait for me to go back inside. Meaning, they either got the information they needed, or they think I’m clueless and useless. Likely the latter, or they wouldn’t have moved.
The shadow is large, probably a man. He retreats further into the trees, moving slowly in a straight path.
I inch backward, keeping my steps silent even though I know he’s already turned and cannot see me.
When his shadow disappears out of sight, I spin and stash my lipstick and mirror roughly into my purse and follow him on silent feet.
I rely on men thinking women are clueless in this business, and they rarely surprise me. If I’d been a man, this guy wouldn’t have so carelessly let me follow him.
He keeps a straight path through the trees, still quiet and out of direct light from nearby buildings, but he doesn’t look back once.
Stopping before the tree line, he surveys an empty parking lot lit up with street lamps.
It appears to be a warehouse parking lot, but the cracks in the pavement and the plants growing through them suggest this warehouse isn’t currently in use.
The man finally steps into the light, though his all black clothing and black beanie cover most of his features, and I can’t see his face. Which means, following him may have led to a dead end unless he turns his face or I can figure out where he’s going.
The man proceeds across the parking lot, his black boots silent against the pavement. The crickets and frogs drown out all sound.
I wait until he moves out of sight on the other side of the building before quickly skirting the parking lot, staying within the trees. Moving at a faster pace so I don’t lose him, I round the building to the other side. The man gets into a black, unmarked car and drives away.
Cursing, I pull out my phone and snap a few blurry photos of the back of the car on the off chance there’s some distinguishable markings that Gray can track down for me.
I sigh, finally slumping my tense shoulders, and walk over to the warehouse door. There’s a padlock over the handles, and no windows in sight.
Another dead end.
Giving up, I pull my phone out, dialing Gray, and make my way back through the trees, wondering if I’ve been away too long that Owen might become suspicious. Or worse, worried, and come try to find me.
“Nova?” Gray asks, picking up after two rings.
“Could you do me a favor for my new assignment? Dec mentioned if I needed tech help, I could ask you.”
“Sure,” he answers almost cheerily, and my chest constricts at the sound, knowing I’m the reason he likely hasn’t been assigned anything interesting since our last mission went to hell.
“I’m sending you some photos of an unmarked car. Can you enhance the photos and see if there’s any way to ID it?”
“Absolutely!” he chirps.
“And there’s a warehouse north of Ed’s, the seafood restaurant. It appears abandoned, but could you check it out and find out who owns it, and see if we can get a look inside?”
Gray doesn’t ask questions, and I can hear him already clicking away at his computer.
“I’ll have the info to you by the end of the night,” he murmurs, finally remembering I’m still on the line, too lost in what he does best.
I chuckle. “Thanks, Gray. I owe you.”
I sense him waving off my statement. “No problem.”
Hanging up the phone, I hurry the rest of the way back to the restaurant.
Owen, Jax, and Evan haven’t texted or called, and there’s no one outside shouting my name, so I take a deep breath and step back into the restaurant, pretending I didn’t follow a man who was clearly sent to get information from either me or someone inside.
Or both.
As I lock eyes with Owen, the man whom I was sent to lock up, a shiver runs down my spine.
Something isn’t right with this case.
The three men are singing loudly, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders. Owen is in the middle. I want to laugh and smile and join them, but my heart is beating a million miles an hour.
Owen stops singing all of a sudden, and his face drops. “What’s wrong?” he asks, peeling himself away from Jax and Evan, who keep singing. Oblivious, likely due to the empty glasses sitting next to them.
Shaking my head, I try to plaster a smile on my face even though my stomach feels sour. “Nothing. Had too much to drink.”
“You want me to take you home?” He searches my face, standing way too close.
I nod because I don’t want to pretend.
He spins and grabs his coat. No questions. No complaints. When he turns back, he hands me my jacket.
Jax and Evan notice and stop their singing.
“You aren’t leaving so soon?” Evan asks, sounding disappointed.
I walk over and wrap him in a hug. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Evan glances over my shoulder. “As long as you bring boss-man.”
Chuckling, I pull away. “As long as you stop calling him boss-man.”
Evan winks, and Jax wraps his arms around me. “I know there is something up with you,” he whispers into my hair. “And I’m going to get it out of you soon. I haven’t forgotten.”
Tears well in my eyes without warning.
I step back, and I know Jax can see all of it. He always could.
Jax leans in and whispers in my ear. “He’s a good one, you know. Not all pretty men will break your heart.”
This one most certainly will, and I suddenly want to know what Jax would say if he knew the whole story.
He pulls away from my ear, and I stare at him pointedly.
“He’s my boss,” I mouth, trying to get him to understand that he’s not just my boss at Regenerative Industries—he’s my assignment.
Jax shrugs, pretending to not understand. Or perhaps he does know but somehow doesn’t believe it. Either way, he gives me a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder.
“Nice to meet you, Owen,” Evan shouts after us.
Owen turns and waves. “Nice to meet you, too.”
When we’re in the parking lot, Owen opens the car door for me.
“Are you ok to drive?” I ask, not remembering how many drinks he had.
“I’m perfectly sober, Miss Riley. I only drank sparkling water with lemon.” I must look shocked because he laughs. “Get in the car, Miss Riley. I promise I won’t kidnap you, and you’ll arrive at your apartment in one piece.”
I do as he asks, not saying a word. Far too many things are going on for my brain to process at the moment, and it leads to my mind aching to turn off and my body that’s desperate to sleep despite not being able to.
We don’t speak for most of the thirty-minute drive back to the city. I want to learn everything Owen knows about the companies he acquired. What information am I missing? Did he really kill those men? But, of course, I can’t ask him any of that.
“What I wouldn’t pay to know what’s going on in that brain of yours right now, Miss Riley,” Owen says out of the blue, and when I glance at him, I realize he’s probably been studying me for most of the thirty minutes, and I’ve been oblivious.
“How about a thought for a thought, Mr. Mills?”
He smiles—a devious sort of smile.
I don’t choose the question that might lead me to answers. Instead, I ask the one that’s been simmering ever since visiting the school Owen’s charity built. “You have the money and power to do whatever you want. Why give it away?”
Owen doesn’t say anything for a minute, and the smile disappears as he loses himself in thought. “I figured that was obvious, Miss Riley. I want to help. To use my money and power for something good.”
“Those are dangerous things, Mr. Mills. Everyone is after them. You must have enemies.”
I regret the statement the second it leaves my lips. Gone is the teasing man who was laughing with my best friends, replaced by something much darker.
“As I said earlier, money and power do not buy you friends, but you’re correct. They can buy you enemies.”
I don’t know what to say to that. His confession all but confirms my suspicions about the person I followed, but I don’t know how to ask the questions I need or how to get him to keep speaking.
For the first time in my career, I have no idea what I’m doing.
“A deal is a deal, Miss Riley.” He finally cuts through my swirling thoughts.
Of course, I don’t tell him what I’m really thinking. Instead, I selfishly try to bring back his easy smile. “I was thinking what a lovely threesome you’d make with Jax and Evan.”
He side-eyes me, the corner of his mouth kicking up. “A fantasy of yours, Miss Riley? Three doting men?”
I laugh, and his smile grows until that damn dimple appears again. “It wasn’t until now.”
Owen turns his head, his eyes widening. I laugh harder, squealing at him to keep his eyes on the road. He snaps his head forward again, but he laughs with me.
We both fall into companionable silence, and before I know it, the car is stopped in front of my building. Grabbing my bag, I unhook my seatbelt. When I look at Owen, he’s watching me.
“Thanks for the ride.” I get out of the vehicle.
“Thanks for taking care of me this morning.”
I bend down and place my hand on the outside of the car door. “It was no problem.” I go to shut it but blurt, “Oh, and Mr. Mills… a girl can dream.”
I slam the door and turn, Owen’s laughter chasing me to my building.