The Accidental Assassin (12 page)

“I’m scared.” I whispered the words. I’d never felt so alone and frightened. “For just a little while I’d let myself forget. Forget that everyone wanted me dead for some reason. I picked out a book to read.”

“I’m not going to let them hurt you.” He leaned closer, his eyes intense. “Do you trust me?”

I thought about it. Really thought about it. Did I trust Owen? I did. I didn’t know why, but I trusted him. And I was probably a giant idiot for it. But…he had come back for me. He hadn’t led the witch hunters to the little shop. He’d been by my side every step of the way.

“Yes.” I let the word out on an exhale.

“Good. That’s good.” He pulled away from me and opened the car door. I hadn’t realized we’d gotten back to our stolen ride. “We need to get going.”

I didn’t talk on the way back to his safe house. I was too shaken up to hold an intelligent conversation. Every muscle in my body felt like jelly and my head throbbed.

At the safe house, Owen insisted on carrying all of the bags himself. I busied myself in the kitchen, putting up the new groceries and heating more soup. It was almost dark and we hadn’t eaten since our late breakfast.

Owen made a fire and we sat on the floor eating our soup and watching the flames. It would’ve been peaceful if I didn’t jump at every noise that seemed out of the ordinary.

“I’m sorry for freaking out,” I sighed.

“Don’t worry about it.”

My mind rolled over things and I tried to make sense of it all. One thing was certain: I needed to make some decisions. If I was going to trust Owen, I needed to trust him. If he was going to give me up, then I wouldn’t be able to stop him. I didn’t know much self-defense and wasn’t sure I could hit anything with a pistol. It had been years since I’d fired a gun.

But despite the unusual way that we had met, I liked Owen. Not because of the way he looked with firelight twinkling in his eyes. Well, not just because of that. But because of the way he had looked at Mrs. Abernathy, the way he puttered around this old house, and had gone out of his way to fluff my pillows. There were more sides to him than even he realized.

I also needed to get in touch with Tess. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it, but it needed to happen soon. No one else would be worried about me, but I knew that Tess would search until she figured out where I was. Or until something happened to her in the process. But I couldn’t afford to think that way.

I leaned back against the couch and set my bowl on the table. The soup had been good, and I felt warmed from the inside and out. I closed my eyes and tried to figure out how I was going to get out of all this mess.

I WOKE ON the couch, a blanket tucked around me, and tried to figure out how I’d gotten up there. Tapping drew my attention to floor at the foot of the couch. Owen was leaned back against the sofa, the keyboard in his lap. His eyebrows were drawn together and I watched as he frowned at the screen.

Worry was etched across his tight jaw and I wondered what had him so upset. Even when we were running from the people shooting at us, he had seemed so calm and in control. He bent over the keyboard and his hair fell across his forehead, obscuring his eyes. His fingers tapped furiously across the keys and he blew out a deep breath before leaning back and dragging a hand through his hair. I could just barely make out the screen, but I saw my picture with a news station logo plastered in the corner.

Instead of freaking out the way I had the night before, I felt oddly resigned. I should have been worried, scared, and confused; instead I just wanted everything to be over.

“If you tell me how to get there, I’ll turn myself in to the police.”

His head jerked in my direction and I noted the growth of stubble along his jaw line and the way his eyes flared.

“You are not turning yourself in, not to anyone.” His words were soft. “Besides, they’re just saying that you’re a person of interest.”

“I’m weighing you down, Owen.” I sat up and noticed that my shoes were on the floor. Had I taken those off or had Owen, when he put me on the couch?

“Stop it, Ava.” He closed the computer and sat it on the floor next to him. “Does it look like you’re weighing me down?”

“Well, yeah, a little. When was the last time you slept?” I adjusted my sweater so it wasn’t twisted around my waist.

“I’ve slept some each night that we’ve been here.” It was still dark in the room, and the sun wasn’t fully up yet. I watched him in the early grey light of dawn thinking about all that he had done for me.

“If I turn myself in to the police, they can give me an extra guard and you can slip away. I’ll tell everyone that I managed to evade the other people by myself.” I shrugged. “I’m American. I grew up on action movies. They’ll buy it.”

“No.”

“Owen—”

“No. They can’t protect you the way I can. I realize I’m not exactly the knight in shining armor most women imagine, but I’ve got the skill set you need right now.” He frowned. “Something serious is going on. Big players in the business are disappearing. Some of my contacts are gone. Vanished. No one has heard anything from them for weeks. This is bigger than just you. You’re going to need me to help you get through it. And you’re my best link to everything that’s going on. You’re not the only one on the news. They are reporting about Song and say he was the head of a sex slave ring, but they believe someone else is pulling the strings from behind the scenes. Somehow you’re connected to all of this.”

“So, I’m a means to an end?” I scrubbed at my face. Made sense.

“Yes. No. I don’t like it, but we need each other. You won’t last long without me, and I’m not going to get any information without you. If I could, I’d ship you off somewhere remote and make sure you never had to deal with any of this again.” His voice took on an earnest tone and I caught a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes.

“It’s not your job to protect me.” I kept my voice soft. He looked on edge.

“I’ve made it my job.” The words sounded like a gruff promise.

“I can’t pay you much, but I’ve got some money.” I played with the blanket, afraid to meet his gaze. If he was looking for money, then I could keep him at arms-length. If he was doing it for something else…I was in a whole different type of trouble.

“I don’t need your money, Ava.” He stood up and looked at me. “I have a hundred thousand quid in that safe and this place is only one of my safe homes.”

“Why?” My voice cracked. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because you need it.” His eyes ran over my face. “Because I want to.”

I wanted to say something, anything, but I didn’t know what. Instead I stood up and folded the blanket and placed it back on the couch and smoothed it out. I turned back to Owen and met his stare.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He stepped back and bent over to pick up his laptop.

I watched as he moved over to the small dining table and opened the computer again. Without another word I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He’d bought eggs and milk the night before and I was ready for something other than soup.

We spent the day quietly, each of us lost in our thoughts. He was busy on the internet, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. It wasn’t until I heard him mention bodies that I asked him to clarify.

“Are you talking about dead bodies?” I tried to not shiver.

“Someone discovered eleven dead women in a ware house in Singapore. Normally that wouldn’t make our news, but most of them were from England.” His eyes narrowed. “They’d been raped and drugged. Most of them were malnourished.”

“You think that’s linked to Mr. Song.” I let out a sharp breath.

He nodded his head. “And to us.”

I had nothing to say for that and we lapsed back into silence. At one point he hopped up from the table and took three steps before turning around and walking back to his seat. He found a phone book and looked at the pages as if he were reading a map.

For my part, television wasn’t an option. My face was on every channel and the panic it inspired wasn’t helping anything. I sat on the couch and read my new book. Helpful Heather had been right. The book was good.

“I thought you might be hungry.”

I looked up from my book to see Owen and a plate of sliced fruit and cheese. The pen he had been using earlier was tucked behind his ear.

“Thanks.” I set the book on the table and made room for him to sit down beside me

“Well, you made breakfast. Figured it was my turn.” He bit into a slice of apple.

“Did you find anything interesting on Facebook?”

His face darkened. “Nothing good.”

I layered a slice of apple with a piece of cheese. “More people disappearing?”

He nodded. “There could be a number of reasons for it, but I think it best that we assume those that aren’t active are looking for us.”

“Huh.” The apple in my mouth suddenly didn’t taste as good. “And how many is that?”

“Seven.”

“I guess it could be worse.” I swallowed. “Seven highly trained assassins out looking for us is better than twenty highly trained assassins out looking for us.”

“I’m more concerned with the disappearance of my sources.” He leaned back on the sofa and put his feet on the table. For some reason I found it fascinating that he wasn’t wearing shoes or socks. You’d think that assassins were always fully dressed, ready for a fight.

I forced myself to focus on what he was talking about. “That would mean someone you trust is removing your resources.”

“Yes.” He ran a hand over his face. “I trust very few people and none of them have access to all of my contacts.”

“So, at least two people are working together.” I picked up another slice of apple and looked at it. “Or someone has been keeping tabs on you.”

“That would be nearly impossible.” He shook his head. “I’m thorough, but one thing is certain. They aren’t just after you, love. We’re in this together.”

“Have you heard back from your handler?” I knew it was a common expression, but I always felt a thrill when he called me ‘love.’

“No.” He didn’t elaborate and I didn’t push for an explanation. I could sense that careful boundary of his just behind the scenes.

The rest of the night followed the same pattern. He checked email, watched the news, surfed the nets, and I read my book. When I realized I was nearing the end, I slowed down, trying to savor the ending. I put the book down and stocked the fireplace so we could stay warm through the chilly night.

I curled up in my spot on the sofa and watched the flames dance along the bark. The couch seemed to mold to my body.

“Who knows about this house?” I leaned my head against the arm rest.

“My handler might, but it’s more likely that he wouldn’t even think I used it.” He looked away from me. “He doesn’t know I own it.”

I wanted to ask him why. I wanted to know why this particular place was a little more important than the others. The answer danced just out of reach, but I couldn’t figure it out. My eyes were too heavy to keep open, my mind too tired to search the maze of Owen’s mind. I fell asleep in my same spot, content to bask in the warm glow of the fire.

The next day was much of the same thing. If the bad guys didn’t find me and kill me, the waiting would. It was hard to keep my mind occupied. I’d finished my book, cleaned the living room, and rearranged all of the food in the kitchen. Owen didn’t want me to go outside, so I was left pacing the house.

I caught Owen staring at his phone. No one had called him back the entire time we’d been here. Instead he spent his time on the internet, checking the news and who knew what.

I suppose I should be glad that he was staying busy. With all of this time on our hands there was no knowing what would happen. And the more time I spent around the man, the more I wanted to know about him. There was something sexy in the way he offered to do things for me, as if he wasn’t used to spending time with someone and he was rusty at being companionable—that he was only trying for me.

Down that road was trouble, though, and I needed to get my mind on something else.

Tessa. I sat down in a chair facing the front windows.

I was worried about my friend. What if they had found her and planned to hurt her if I didn’t go to them first? Were the police making her stay somewhere else? Did she and Danny have to go get his bloody car out of impound?