Chapter 26
Ava
Owen’s shoulders were low as we exited the FBI’s holding cells. Liam had gone quiet. He hadn’t spoken a word to anyone in two weeks, ever since that first interrogation. We had decided to go to his cell instead, hoping he’d talk. But nothing. He didn’t even look at us.
We’d sent a new forensic team to all the Apparitions’ houses, hoping that Liam had lied about there not being any forensic traces, but he hadn’t. They still couldn’t find anything.
And it was breaking Owen. Another dead end and his best friend being loyal to his enemy.
That was what Grayson had become to Owen. He’d become more than just a perp, a job. He was an enemy. One Owen had formed an obsession towards. After everything, it was deeply personal. To the point where his hatred for Grayson rivalled my own.
Sometimes, like today, his hatred scared me. It would consume him like it had consumed me. I could see it in his eyes. He was staring down that dark void, ready to jump.
I stopped and opened the janitor’s closet, pulling him inside.
“Ava, someone saw—”
I kissed him, cutting off his protest. I laced my arms around his neck and pulled him close, feeling him relax against me as he moaned into my mouth.
It was working. I could feel his mood lifting.
His heart beat frantically against me as his hands roamed my body.
It felt so good having him touch me like this. I wanted more. So I pushed my hand between us, rubbing my hand over his erection.
He groaned and swiftly pushed me up against the supply rack, making things topple over and fall to the floor.
“Shit,” Owen panted, grinning at my giggling.
He tried to pull away but I held on tight, pulling his mouth back to mine. “Don’t stop.”
He kissed me again, but just for a few seconds. “We have to. If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to anymore.” He trailed kisses down my neck, making me shiver.
I pushed my fingers into his hair, keeping him close, hoping his mouth would continue to explore a little further down. My chest was heaving in anticipation. “Then don’t. Fuck me, O.”
He moaned against my clavicle, painfully squeezing my ass as he pressed me against his hard-on.
Yes. I loved the feel of his arousal against me, and how it swirled in the air around us, sharp and desperate.
“No. Not here.”
My stomach dropped. What?
“I’m not letting our first time be in a janitor’s closet.”
I huffed an annoyed breath and let my head fall backwards. “I don’t care where we are.”
He kissed both my cheeks, smiling at my frustration. “I know. But I want to take my time with you. I want to hear you moan my name without worrying about keeping you quiet.”
My stomach fluttered. “And when will that be?” I grumbled. I wanted him so bad, it was to the point of embarrassment. Look at me practically begging to be fucked in a closet.
Desperate much, Ava?
He chuckled, nuzzling my nose. “Soon. I promise.”
I sighed, accepting my fate and pushed him away from me, righting my clothes. “Then get back to work, Agent Becket.”
He grinned at me, eyes roaming over my body. “Not without you, Miss Beaumont.”
I waited for Owen to close his suit jacket over his very obvious erection, then peered out the door, half expecting Director Devereux to be standing there with his disapproving glare. But the hallway was quiet, only an empty ladder and maintenance sign to be seen.
We slipped out the closet unnoticed, both grinning like fools as we made our way back to the boardroom with all our false paperwork.
Owen stopped to let me pass by the ladder first, like the true gentleman he was, then quickly pulled me in for a kiss.
My stomach flipped and my whole body broke out in goosebumps, electricity sparking from my heart, spreading through my chest.
I shook it off, cleared my throat and quickly moved past the ladder as another agent walked past the hallway, staring directly at us.
Owen followed me, gently placing his hand on my back, his thumb caressing me.
As we made it to the end of the hallway, I stopped dead in my tracks. The feelings that were plummeting through my body finally registering.
“Grayson,” I breathed in shock, adrenaline shooting through me.
I whirled and almost choked on air as my eyes landed on him. There was a coldness in his eyes, a hatred that struck me right in the chest, shaking me to my core.
He was standing on the ladder, a blue maintenance overall and cap on, glowering at me like he wanted to rip my insides out with his bare hands.
He had come out the manhole in the ceiling. And I was frozen stiff.
But Owen was already running. Grayson ripped his hate-filled eyes from me and narrowed them at Owen. I could see the calculations happening in his brain, within a split second, before he reacted.
Owen wasn’t going to win this fight.
Grayson pushed at the ladder, running up the steps as it fell towards Owen. He leaped into the air and they crashed together, Owen taking an elbow to the jaw as they went down.
Grayson was on top of Owen, pure rage contorting his face as he pulled his fist back, then swung.
Owen shifted his head, just in time and grabbed hold of Grayson’s neck, pulling him down, then kicked up, flipping Grayson over his head.
Grayson rolled and sprang to his feet, his hand slamming into my throat as I charged towards them.
He used my momentum to swing me around his body, positioning me between Owen and himself.
My body slammed into his, his hand cutting off my oxygen.
I struggled against him, trying to get a grip on him, trying to get out if his hold, but I stilled as I felt the gun. I flinched as the metal bit into my cheek, my teeth feeling like they were about to crack from how hard he was shoving it into my face.
Owen had stopped dead in his tracks, grabbing for his gun that wasn’t in his holster anymore. So he dropped his hands, staring at Grayson with utter hatred.
Oh, gods.
“No! Don’t stop now!” Grayson taunted Owen. “Give me a reason to pull this trigger.”
Owen stood still as a statue.
Grayson finally let go of my throat and I gasped down air. His fingers tangled painfully in my hair as he yanked my head backwards, fuming into my face. “I should have fucking killed you!”
Owen took a step forward and Grayson pushed the gun harder into me in warning.
“Fuck you,” I whimpered in pain.
“No, thanks. You smell like dog.”
Rage pumped through my veins, making my whole body shake.
“Shut the fuck up and put down the gun, Varon,” Owen shot at him. “There’s already two agents behind you and more coming.” Another agent came running as he said it. “Let her go and I’ll let you live.” Owen took another step closer to us.
My heart sped up as Grayson chuckled like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“You hear that, witch? I’ll be joining you in hell. Hmmm,” he hummed in my ear. “Now doesn’t that sound nice.”
I held my tongue as he watched me for a reaction. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I would rather die.
More agents barrelled into the hallway, guns raised at us. There was no way for Grayson to get through them all. What the hell was he doing here anyway? He was in the FBI’s headquarters for gods’ sake!
Then it hit me. “Liam,” I warned Owen. Grayson was here for Liam.
Owen’s eyes narrowed and waved at an agent to go check on Liam in his cell.
Grayson chuckled. “Tell me, Becket. Does she still moan my name in her sleep?”
Owen’s face went red with rage, his knuckles a stark white.
Grayson gave a satisfied snort at Owen’s reaction. “I guess she does.” He forced my head up towards his face. “What do you say, nightingale? One last kiss before we die?” He wasn’t looking at me, but at Owen, smirking at the fury that darkened Owen’s face.
Gods, I hated him. I was glad that he had the gun, or I might have pulled the trigger. End up in prison for cold-blooded murder.
I caught Owen’s eye, hoping he understood what I was about to do.
I took a steadying breath and sighed it out, letting my body relax against Grayson.
Grayson’s jaw ticced and he looked down at me, his cunning eyes sweeping over my face. I stared into those evil eyes, reaching deep down into hell, searching for my imprisoned soul.
I swallowed hard as a tear slipped out the corner of my eye.
Grayson’s gaze flickered for a split second, before his mouth turned up in a knowing smile.
“See, dog? She will always want me.” His eyes flicked smugly to Owen before he lowered his head, capturing my mouth in a hard kiss.
My head spun from the familiarity of him, like the feel of his lips were carved on the inside of my bones.
But his kiss was different. It was cruel, punishing, painful. He bit into my lower lip, the tangy taste of blood filling my mouth as he forced his tongue into it, ruthlessly claiming it.
My blood boiled at the intrusion. He had no right to me anymore. He had no right to lay his hands on my body anymore. I didn’t want to belong to him anymore. I was done with this asshole.
I shoved the gun up, away from my face. Then shot my knee up between his legs. I opened my eyes just fast enough to see Owen tackle Grayson to the ground.
Grayson was laughing as the agents bombarded him, restrained him and cuffed his hands behind his back. His grin was cruel and hateful on Owen as they lifted him to his feet. “Next time you feel her up in the janitor’s closet, you’ll have to taste me.”
Owen didn’t deign him a response, his jaw clenching. He turned to me. “You okay?”
My whole body was shaking uncontrollably, and I wasn’t sure why. But I nodded.
Had we just captured Grayson? Was this it?
Owen picked his gun off the floor and re-holstered it, a grin forming on his lips.
Gods! We captured Grayson.
Director Devereux came marching into the hallway, the agents stepping aside to let him pass.
He stopped before me and Owen, not looking at Grayson. “Everyone okay?” He looked me over, his eyes stopping at my bleeding lip.
“I’m fine,” I murmured hoarsely, unable to make my voice louder.