Chapter 24
He’s leaning against the bar. Not surprisingly, he’s surrounded by five women, a drink in hand. Stopping outside the little circle of women, I place my hands on my hips. I can’t help but glare.
When he finally spots me, his mouth falls open dramatically, and he carefully places his glass on the bar before muttering, “Uh oh.”
All five women turn toward me, but I ignore their stares.
“That’s all you have to say?” I ask a little harsher than I probably should, but I’m pissed. The fucker’s life is in literal danger, and he goes and gets himself drunk in the span of thirty minutes.
“You left.” Instead of sounding accusatory, he sounds devastated.
“I went to the bathroom,” I explain. “And then I got caught up chatting with a few people on my way back. I didn’t realize I’d need to stick to you like glue.”
“Will you?” I give him a questioning look, and he clarifies, “Stick to me like glue?”
“Come on, Mr. Mills. You’re needed elsewhere,” I say, motioning for him to step away from the bar.
When he does, he almost stumbles. The women hurry away from him as though he might fall on top of them. I, on the other hand, rush to him, grabbing his arm to steady him.
“I’m fine,” he mumbles. “I can do it.”
“I know you can. What if I want to hold your arm? Glue, remember?” I whisper.
He smiles, and I almost trip over myself at the sight of it.
I want to smile back, but I’m too afraid of what I got us into. Too afraid to lose him. Too afraid of the truth. Too afraid he may not walk out of that room with Peyton Radd.
“Why so somber, Miss Riley?” he asks, noticing my frown as we make our way toward the door.
“I fear you and I are too much trouble for one another.”
He shakes his head vigorously. “No, I’m too much trouble for you. You’re perfect.”
I snort. “You’re drunk.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t make that statement less true.”
I pull Owen through the door and corner him against the wall, somewhat away from prying eyes. “Listen to me carefully, Owen.”
He sucks in a surprised breath. “You used my first name. This must be serious.”
His joking tone only frustrates me more. “Does the name Peyton Radd mean anything to you?”
Owen’s eyes widen. “You saw the sticky note on my desk the day you cleaned.”
It's not exactly a question, but I nod anyway.
“I should have hired security the moment his name crossed my path,” he says.
“What do you mean? How do you know him?”
“I don’t know him personally, but he worked for one of the companies I acquired recently.”
Confirmation he wasn’t hired by Owen. But why would Peyton be so reluctant to admit it? And why is Peyton still being so secretive?
“What did he do for that company?” I ask.
Owen looks as if he doesn’t want to tell me, so I decide to give him some incentive. “He’s here. He cornered me and wants a private meeting with you. Right now. He didn’t seem very friendly, so you'd better tell me what you know.”
“Fuck,” Owen mumbles. “He touched you?”
“Yes. No.” I shake my head. “That doesn’t matter right now! What matters is what you know about him and why he wants to meet with you alone.”
Owen looks like he wants to murder someone, but he answers. “I believe he is some sort of hitman. Someone hired by the drug cartel and then later by the company I acquired. The drug cartel had some business dealings with the company that I ended when I bought them.”
“What do you think he wants?”
Owen shrugs, and the movement is slow and sloppy. The alcohol is starting to affect him more than I’d like.
“I don’t know. Money? To kill me?” he answers.
“You aren’t serious?”
He shrugs again.
“Noah and two others are stationed outside the doors to the education center office, where you’re meeting him. He will be searched and stripped of all weapons before you go in there with him. And Owen?”
“Yes?” he asks, eyebrow quirking.
“If everything goes to shit, protect your goddamn left side.”
With that, I practically drag him up the stairs.
Noah’s waiting for us. The scowl on his face says more than his words ever could. He doesn’t trust Peyton, and he doesn’t like this situation one bit. I don’t blame him, but I made a deal. A rotten one.
“I take it he’s already in there?” I ask.
Noah nods, picking up a bag and shoving it in my arms. “This is what we found on him.”
I open the bag, and Owen leans over to peer inside, too.
“Fuuuck.”
“What he said,” Noah chimes in.
The bag is full of weapons. A gun with a silencer, two daggers, another handgun, and…
“Are those poison darts?” I ask Noah.
He nods.
Taking a deep breath, I take Owen’s hand and pull him to the door of the office.
I open it to find Peyton sitting, his hands behind his head and ankles crossed on top of the round table in front of him. Books are haphazardly stacked in the wooden shelves behind the table, and children's toys and replicas of animals fill plastic bins on the floor.
Peyton wears a cynical grin. “You’re late,” he says as his gaze lands on Owen.
I don’t acknowledge his comment. “You have five minutes, Mr. Radd. No more. If you touch a hair on his head, I’ll make you wish you never even heard the name Owen Mills.”
Peyton chuckles. “Oh, I have no doubt, Miss Riley.” He pulls his hands from the back of his head and holds them up. “I have no desire to get on your bad side. I’ve seen what you do to men you don’t like.” He winks for emphasis.
“What does that mean?” Owen asks innocently.
“Nothing,” I growl. “Seems he has a flair for the dramatic. You have five minutes, starting now.”
I reluctantly drop Owen’s hand and storm out of the room, shutting the door behind me. I know what I said to Peyton was risky. I know I’m treading a fine line and that my little act won’t hold up much longer, but all I can think of is Owen. I cannot lose him.
The next thing I know, my legs give out, and I collapse against the door. Noah is instantly at my side. He doesn’t say a word but sits next to me. A steady shoulder to lean against.
It’s the longest five minutes of my life, and all I can think of is: I may have just killed Owen.
When the timer goes off, I’m on my feet and through the door before anyone blinks. Peyton swivels his head to me and grins, though I hardly notice because slumped over the desk is Owen.
I’m on Peyton in an instant, pinning him to the wall, my elbow collapsing his trachea. He chokes for air, clawing at my arm.
“Nova,” Noah’s voice comes from behind me. “He’s fine. Just unconscious.”
I let up only enough to let Peyton speak.
“What did you do to him?” I shout.
“I knocked him out for a bit. It won’t last,” he wheezes.
“What did you say to him?” I slam him against the wall even harder.
Peyton has the nerve to smile. “I’m sure he’ll run right to you and tell you everything when he wakes. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I didn’t spill your secret.”
“I wasn’t worried about that, asshole!”
“Oh I know you aren’t, but you might be once he knows.”
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
His grin grows. “I’m aware. And now that my business is done here, I’d like to leave, per our agreement.”
“Our agreement was you wouldn’t touch him.”
“Oh, but I didn’t. Not without his consent.”
“Bullshit.”
Peyton shrugs.
“Nova, we have no reason to hold him here. He stuck to the agreement,” Noah says behind me.
“You should listen to him,” Peyton comments.
“Shut up and get the hell out of here,” I say, releasing him.
He smiles again and bows. “As you wish, Miss Riley.” He heads for the door, and when he reaches it, he turns one last time. “Oh, and Miss Riley? When shit hits the fan, come find me, will you?”
He’s gone before I can respond.
“What the hell?” Noah asks, staring blankly at the door Peyton exited through.
“Your guess is as good as mine. We’ve learned absolutely nothing, and Owen is out for who knows how long. And he might not even remember this meeting.” I pause, pacing the room.
“Gray? You got eyes on Peyton?” I ask into my comm.
“Yes, he just left the building. Out the front door.”
“Left in a car?”
“Yes.”
“Did you get the plates?”
“Yes, but it looks like an Uber.”
“Can you hack the destination? Or trace the car?”
“I’ll try.”
“Thanks.”
I turn my attention back to Noah. “I need to get him home. Can you bring his car around?”
Noah nods. “You want a team to go with you?”
“That would probably be wise, but no. According to Parker, no one even knows where he lives. Plus, I think this meeting with Peyton Radd gave us a few more days.”
“Nova, I have to say I don’t think it’s wise.”
“I know it’s not!” I snap. “But I need to talk to Owen. Alone. And I don’t think he’ll say anything with anyone around. Trust me.”
Noah nods. “You’re bringing weapons at least?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Let’s get him to the car,” he says, coming over to help me lift Owen out of the chair.
“We bring him out the back way. I don’t want anyone spotting him.”
Noah nods, and we drag Owen down the back steps and out into a back alley. The car is waiting, and Noah helps me strap Owen into the passenger seat.
As promised, Parker typed in Owen’s address.
“Be careful, Nova. Call me if you need help. We won’t be far.” Noah’s voice is soft and filled with concern.
I nod, trying to hold back the moisture gathering in my eyes. I look over at Owen’s motionless form.
“He’ll be fine,” Noah reassures me.
“I know, but it’s all my fault.” I let my head fall onto the steering wheel.
Noah puts a hand on my back. “None of this is. Though I don’t know much, it seems to me that Owen got himself in this mess, and it’s only because of you that he’s still alive.”
I pull my head up and stare into Noah’s dark brown eyes. “Why does this have to be such a mess? And why does it feel like it’s something I cannot fix?”