Page 89 of Lost to Thievery
“No use. No signal,” Owen grunted as he steadied himself against the wall. At the panic on my face, he added, “Someone will come.” He looked me over. “You did good.”
I swallowed, watching Owen help the second agent shrug out of his shirt, checking for an exit wound.
“What does eight mean?” Owen asked. “He signed eight to you.”
The floor tilted a little. Grayson had somehow tossed all the guns out to the other side of the gate, except for Owen’s. “It was the eighth time I made him bleed,” I answered Owen while lowering myself to the ground against the bars, my legs wavering beneath me.
“This is all a mess,” the director let out on a breath, his eyes looking worried. I’d never seen him rattled before.
“Ah, shit!” an agent cursed from the top of the stairs. “Syntax! They’re over here! Get an ambulance,” she shouted before darting down the stairs. Syntax followed her and I let out a breath of relief, my body slumping against the bars, my fingers feeling numb.
“There’s another key in my office safe…” The director started rattling off instructions, but I couldn’t hear anything anymore, as the blood rushed in my ears.
I had shot Grayson.
I had tried to kill him.
Ava
Ithadbeentwoweeks since I took that shot. Two weeks of Owen not really touching me. And I was crawling out of my skin with frustration. He was being a perfect gentleman. Too much of a gentleman. Was it because of all the things Grayson had said that day?
Owen would steal a kiss, here and there, when no one was watching, and he would crawl into my bed at night, but each time I thought we were getting somewhere, he would stop, and I would feel too embarrassed to jump his bones like I wanted to.
It was silly, but I was starting to feel rejected. Like the girl who had been friend zoned but still kept on a leash.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with me. Maybe it was because Volkov had vanished from his cell, without a trace, while we were sleeping—obviously Grayson’s work. Maybe it was thefrustration of Grayson claiming yet another victory, right from under our noses. Losing yet another battle to the devil could have put a damper on Owen’s sex drive, making me feel like a selfish little brat for pushing so hard.
But as for me, it was exactly why I needed Owen to just fuck me already. I needed him to claim me, to obliterate the last vestiges of Grayson from my mind. I didn’t want to be the devil’s anymore. I couldn’t. I was suffocating. I wanted to be Owen’s.
And I knew Owen wanted me that way too. I could feel his body’s reaction to me; each time he held me close. He just had more self-control than any man I had ever met.
So, I had slipped away from work, earlier than usual, to take an everything-shower, and put on my best underwear, determined to seduce the hell out of Owen when he got home.
Instead, I waited and waited, feeling the bounce leave my blow-dried hair until finally I received a message from him, saying he would be working late and not to wait up.
I had screamed my frustration to the heavens, threw on a light hoody to cover my low-cut shirt and stormed out the house, not bothering to slow down for the two agents scurrying out of their car to follow me.
I wasn’t going to sit around and wait on a man to come home like some poor desperate puppy. I was Ava-godsdamned-Beaumont. A woman who had stabbed a mafia capo twice her size with a fucking pen, and not a breath of fear. The woman who shot the king of the Underworld and lived. A woman who hunted the devil.
I was a woman who could stare Death in the face and laugh.
So why the hell was I being so touchy about Owen working late? Of course, he was working late. They were still trying to track Liam down and figure out how the hell Grayson had executed not only one, but two jail breaks in two fucking weeks,not to mention his own Houdini act in the FBI’s basement. The bastard had to have broken some kind of record.
I sighed as I entered the park grounds, ignoring the two long shadows stretching over the ground from behind me—the two agents who had been assigned my protection detail by the director. Aside from the three of us, the grounds were pretty empty. It was late and the air nippy after three days of rain. Summer was in full bloom, and the park was lush with vibrant greens.
Almost two years have passed since Grayson first laid hands on me. And ever since that wretched first encounter, my life had been as everchanging as the seasons. All through that winter, I had loved and laughed until my heart would burst, thinking it would never end. But it did. And it’s a little over a year ago now that I was left shattered beyond repair when Ostara arrived, to awaken the trees from their slumber. I couldn’t celebrate the rebirth of nature when I was still stuck in the midst of my own barren and brutal winter.
But that was behind me now. I survived. And even though my rhythm was a tad off, I was ready to start fresh. With Owen. Someone who deserved my love.
I followed the route to my favourite spot in the park, taking deep breaths to try and shake the frustration building up in my limbs.
It took me longer than it should to see the raven standing up ahead in the middle of my path. I stopped, watching it as unease snaked into my belly. Its sudden loud caw as it launched into the air made me jump, electricity tingling in my fingertips.
“Is everything okay, Miss Beaumont?” One of the agents asked from behind me.
I quickly glanced over my shoulder at them, mustering a tight smile. “Yes, I’m fine. It’s fine,” I added, more to convince myself.
I took two more steps forward, but my gut screamed at me to stop.
