Chapter 30
“Ican’t find him,” Noah tells me at the cafe in the lobby of Regenerative Industries.
I can’t help the frown and lick of frustration creeping up my spine.
Noah’s face falls. “We know when Peyton checked out of the hotel. We’re following every lead we have.”
Running a hand through my hair, I drop into one of the empty chairs at the cafe. No one is around. After the news of Owen’s arrest, it’s been eerily quiet.
When I still don’t say anything, Noah pulls out the chair across from me and sits. “We will find him, Nova. In the meantime, is there any other way to get the information you need?”
I suck in a deep breath, willing my racing mind to slow down. “There’s one.”
Noah’s eyes narrow, and even his usually cheery mouth turns downward. “You mean Owen?”
I nod without looking at him. “I never got the whole story from him. We skated around the truth. I suspect he knows more than he ever told me. More than he told anyone.”
Noah’s frown doesn’t disappear as he leans forward, reaching for my hand. “You up for that conversation?”
Meeting his eyes, I let him cover my hand with his own. “No. But what choice do I have?”
Noah pats my hand and pulls away. “You’re going to tell him everything, too?”
It isn’t really a question. He knows the answer, and so do I, but I nod anyway. “I have to.”
“You ready?”
I snort. “No.”
Noah pauses and studies my face for a few moments. “He’s a good guy, Nova. I wouldn’t underestimate him. He knows you, too. It won’t change anything between you.”
My eyes widen, and I shake my head. He can’t be serious.
“It changes everything, Noah,” I whisper.
You can’t love someone if you don’t truly know them. You can’t build a relationship on lies. And when the truth finally comes out, which it always does, everything crumbles. I knew this from the beginning, and yet…I couldn’t help myself.
Noah’s eyes crinkle in the corners. His concern for me is written all over his face. “Was it worth it?”
His question throws me, and I tilt my head. I don’t speak right away, though I’ve known the answer for a long time.
“Yes.”
My heart is racing while I check in at the correctional facility where Owen is being held. With shaking hands, I’m barely able to sign my name on the extensive forms they make me fill out.
I’ve been going over and over what I want to say to him. What I want to start with. But I’m still terrified. Not of what I have to say, but because of what I know will be waiting for me. The betrayal, the lies, and—most terrifying of all—a broken man.
The guard walks me through the security gates and down a long hallway filled with prisoners, some of whom I put behind those bars.
Most sneer and shout as my red heels click along the tiled floor.
I ignore them, keeping my gaze forward and my hands in fists.
Clammy sweat builds on my palms but don’t wipe it away.
The guard opens a private meeting room door. Because of my CIA status, the private meeting was easy to procure.
“You’ll have fifteen minutes,” the guard says, his tone flat and devoid of any emotion.
“I was told I’d have as long as I needed?”
The guard shrugs. “Those were the orders I was given.”
“From whom?” I push my anger down, but I fail to keep my voice even.
The guard raises a brow. “Fuck if I know.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Thank you,” I say between clenched teeth.
The guard doesn’t hesitate as he slips out of the room and locks me in.
Usually, I have unlimited time to question prisoners. My CIA status gives me that clearance. Someone messed with it, and there’s only one person who has the ability to do that.
Declan.
I pace back and forth, the wheels in my head turning. I’m trying to figure out why Declan would do that when I hear the familiar click of the door across from me opening, and I stop, my body going completely rigid.
There’s the shuffle of two sets of feet across the smooth tile, but I can’t look. Not yet.
“I’ll retrieve you in fifteen minutes,” the new guard mumbles as he pulls out a chair for Owen. The chair scrapes across the tile floor, echoing throughout the small interrogation room.
Owen doesn’t make a sound. No sound of surprise, no greeting, no angry outburst. Nothing but utter silence.
When the click of the door closing behind Owen sounds, I suck in a deep breath and turn.
My heart stops in my chest when I see him. He isn’t even looking at me. His head is bowed, his gaze on his hands, bound in his lap. He looks ten times smaller than I remember.
“Owen,” I whisper, and I cannot keep the waver from my voice.
He finally raises his head. Slowly, as if it’s taking all of his effort to do so.
Tears gather in my eyes, though I don’t let them fall. They make my vision blurry, but I still see him. He looks as though he’s already lost weight. There are deep circles under his eyes, and they look bloodshot, as if he hasn’t slept in days.
I tentatively walk over to the table and pull out the chair in front of him. He tracks my movement but still doesn’t say anything.
Sitting slowly, I want so badly to reach out and touch him, but I fold my hands in my lap instead.
“Owen,” I repeat.
He drops his gaze to the table, refusing to speak.
“Please, Owen. I need to talk to you.”
“So talk,” he says, his voice gruff. He still refuses to meet my gaze.
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the tears to stay where they are. “I’m so very sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry it was me who landed you here. I know you won’t believe me, but after I learned about everything, I tried to save you.”
His eyes snap to mine and now anger simmers in them. “Tell me, Nova, how’d you get the evidence they’re using against me?”
My heart hammers in my chest. He knows. He knows how I got the evidence. I was the only person he’d ever let into his house. This wasn’t about me not telling him about my job. This was about the walls he let me tear down. The trust he gave me. And I broke it so thoroughly.
I hold his gaze, as hard as it is for me to do. His eyes bore into mine, and those tears I’m trying to hold back finally slip. “Your house.” My voice cracks.
He huffs and looks away from me, the disappointment replacing the anger, and it feels so much worse.
“Owen, please,” I beg, instinctively reaching toward him and coming up with nothing but a cold table between us.
“This isn’t over. I want to help get you out of here.
I want…” I sputter a bit as more tears flow down my face.
“Shit, I need to help you get out of here. I know it will never make up for what I’ve done.
I know that what happened is irreparable.
You don’t ever have to forgive me. You can hate me for eternity.
But I need to do this. I need to finish this.
I need to get you out of here, and I need to get those assholes behind bars. ”
Owen slowly turns, but my words only seem to spark more of his anger. “So this is about you?” His question comes out as a low growl.
Shit. I deserved that.
I let my head drop, wiping away the tears on my cheeks with the back of my hand. “No. This is about saving your company and your charities. About saving your brother. About saving you. You may not believe that, and that’s fine. But I’ll ask you one more time. Will you help me?”
A silence stretches between us. I find the courage to raise my eyes to Owen. He’s studying me intently. The anger is still there, but there’s something else that has my heart thumping wildly in my chest—determination.
“What do you need?” he says at last.
“Any chance you have backups of your emails and files pertaining to the acquisitions? Someone wiped what I found.” I cringe at admitting I hacked his computer.
If that fact is a surprise to him, he doesn’t show it. “Who wiped it?”
“We don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out. How all this fits together.”
Owen cocks his head to the side and runs a hand over the stubble along his cheek. I track the movement unintentionally.
The corner of Owen’s mouth kicks up slightly, or perhaps it was my imagination.
“You have a pen and paper?” he asks.
I nod, pulling them out of my purse and sliding them over to him.
“I made hard copies of all the correspondence with all the companies I acquired. They’re at my house. I didn’t trust them to stay on my computer. There might be something in there.” He writes down everything I need.
My eyes widen. Something resembling hope stirs in my chest.
He pushes the paper to me, and I study it for a moment. “Have you told your lawyer about this folder?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “It only implicates me further, I’m afraid. But there’s a chance there’s something I missed the first time.”
My heart sinks, and the hope deflates as fast as it rose. “So you truly believe there’s nothing that can get you out of here?”
“No, Nova. I don’t. I’m guilty. We both know that.
I can’t run from this. I knew I’d have to face it eventually.
I just…” He trails off, running a hand through his hair and diverting his eyes.
The chain between his cuffs sounds ominous.
“I didn’t expect….” I can tell he doesn’t want to say his next words. “You.”
My hands shake, holding the piece of paper with the information that I’d hoped might help him. He doesn’t have to say it, but the implication is there in the words and the way his green eyes now pierce my very soul. He meant he didn’t expect to fall for me.
“Nova?” he says hesitantly, his eyes never leaving mine. “I knew.”
My eyes widen, but I’m not sure I’m surprised.
“I knew who you were. No person would have known how to deal with a gunman in the woods or be so calm about it. But I ignored it, because…because…”
He flinches and changes the subject. “You aren’t in danger, are you?”
It’s not his almost-admission or the question that throws me. He’s angry with me, that’s clear, but the fear he has about my safety almost brings me to my knees.
I respond as I always do when people ask me that question. “I’m always in danger. It’s part of my job.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I know what he’s really asking. He wants to know if he’s the one responsible for my life being threatened.
I shake my head. “Owen, you are not responsible for my safety. Believe me, if you knew some of the assignments I’ve had, this one would look like a cake walk.
I can’t promise you I’ll make it out of this alive.
I can’t ever promise that, but I have a really good team.
A team that is risking their lives and careers to help me. To help you.”
Owen leans back in his chair and rubs his tired, beautiful green eyes. “Why?” I almost don’t hear the question as his voice is so quiet.
Suddenly, I’m angry for reasons I can’t understand. I slam my fist on the table, making Owen jump, and I stand, leaning over the table. “You’re seriously asking me why? Do you not see?”
Owen looks shell-shocked but squeaks out, “See what?”
I pull back and straighten my spine. “Do you have any idea how much the people in your life care about you? About your mission? About what you’re doing for this fucked up world we live in?
For fucks’ sake, even Noell is helping, and she hates me.
But she loves you! You are an idiot, do you know that? ”
Owen appears stunned into silence.
“You seem all self-sacrificing, thinking that you aren’t leaving anyone behind by ending up here. That everyone will be better off without you. But you’re wrong!”
I start pacing back and forth across the floor, my heels clicking frantically.
“You are fucking loved, and somehow you have no clue.” I shake my head, the anger still red-hot in my veins.
“We’re all risking something for someone.
Isn’t that what love is? Putting your heart on the line for someone?
And all these people are risking a hell of a lot for you.
So you better give me everything you know, or else I’ll be back here, and this time I’ll be behind bars right with you, and I will give you hell for the rest of your days! ”
I stop my pacing and glare at him. Owen’s eyes widen, and his mouth opens and shuts.
We hold each other's gaze for a few moments until the door behind Owen opens, and the guard comes traipsing in.
“Times up,” he says, grabbing Owen’s arm and pulling him to stand.
He’s ushered to the door. Tears fill my eyes again, knowing that this may be the last time I ever see him, and I’m too much of a coward to say what I really want to.
Owen stops right before the door, and the guard lets him. He turns, tears clouding his own eyes. “Check the folder, Nova. And for what it’s worth, I may hate you for what you’ve done, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”
With that, the door slams behind him. I’m left with nothing but utter silence and a heart that hurts in ways I never knew it could.
“I love you, too,” I whisper into the quiet, but it doesn’t answer me back.