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I glanced at the clock on the wall. More than two hours had passed since the men had stormed into the salon, and Grimes and Hazel were probably back up on their mountain by now, thinking that no one was coming after Sophia. I'd already spent enough time going to the salon and then coming home. Necessary trips, but every minute that ticked by was another one that Sophia spent with Grimes, another one that he could be torturing her.
So I walked right on by the ringing phone. It wasn't until I was outside and had stepped off the front porch that I realized that I wasn't alone. Another car sat in the driveway, with a man leaning against it: Owen Grayson.
Owen had on the same sort of clothes as mine - brown boots, brown pants, black T-shirt. His arms were crossed over his muscled chest, while the bright sun brought out the blue highlights in his thick black hair. He was as ruggedly handsome as ever. Or maybe I just thought so because I knew that he wasn't mine, not anymore. Not for weeks now. And he probably never would be again.
"Owen?" I asked, stopping short at the sight of him.
"What are you doing here?"
Instead of answering me, he reached into his car and grabbed a black backpack that was eerily similar to mine.
He shut the car door and walked toward me. A series of clink-clank-clink-clanks drifted over to me as whatever was in his bag shifted back and forth. The sounds of guns, knives, and other sharp bits of metal jostling together was as familiar to me as a lullaby - and much more comforting. Owen stopped in front of me and hoisted the backpack onto his shoulder. His gaze met mine, his violet eyes dark, somber, and serious. "I'm here to help. "
Chapter Eleven
Words just . . . failed me.
For a moment, I was completely speechless. Of all the people who would offer to help me with something like this, I hadn't thought that Owen would be one of them.
Not anymore. Not after I'd killed his first love. But here he was anyway, despite everything that had happened between us. And it felt . . . good. It felt . . . right .
"Phillip called and told me what happened," Owen said. "I tried to call you, but your phone kept going straight to voice mail, so I called Finn. He said that he was driving back to Ashland but that he wouldn't be here for a couple of hours and that you were determined to go after this guy Grimes immediately. So I came to help. "
Anger sizzled in my chest, but I couldn't blame Phillip and Finn for their actions. Like Phillip had said, they were just trying to make sure that I didn't go off and get myself killed out in the middle of the woods. I would have done the same thing if they, Bria, or anyone else I cared about had been bound and determined to go after a dangerous criminal by herself. Well, actually, I probably would have hog-tied them and gone in their place.
Still, Owen and I . . . we weren't exactly together these days. Sure, I'd gotten him out of the vault and away from clementine and her giants at the Briartop museum, but
I didn't want him to think that he owed me anything for that, because he didn't. Not one damn thing. I would have gladly battled clementine a thousand times for him, even now, after he'd broken my heart. Because that's what you did for the people you loved. You fought for them no matter what - and no matter how terribly they hurt you.
"You don't have to go with me," I said. "It's not your fight. "
"Yes, it is," Owen replied. "I care about Jo-Jo and Sophia too. More important, I care about you , Gin. I know how much this has to be hurting you right now. "
That was the one thing
about Owen that continually surprised and scared me, just how well he could see past my usual indifferent mask and suss out my true, buried emotions.
Still, I kept that mask up and locked in place as I stared at him, trying to see if he really meant what he said. But his eyes were clear, his stance tall, his jaw tight and determined. He seemed like the Owen of old, before Salina had wreaked such havoc on us.
But there was something else lurking in his face, a wariness that I hadn't seen before. It almost seemed as if he was holding his breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
As if I was about to say or do something that would injure him so greatly that he would never, ever recover from it.
But I had no idea what that could possibly be.
"You don't owe me anything, if that's what this is about," I said, struggling not to show anything of what I was really feeling. "Not for what happened at Briartop and not for Salina either. "
Owen did the last thing that I expected him to: he smiled. A great, big, beautiful smile that brightened his whole face. "I knew you were going to say that. "
"Okay," I said, not quite sure what he was getting at.
"But that doesn't make it any less true. "
Owen nodded. Then he blew out a breath and raised his eyes to mine. "Look," he said. "I've been an idiot about a lot of things - a lot of things. You, me, and especially Salina and everything that happened with her.
But I'm not being an idiot about this. Finn said that you told him that Sophia was injured. At the very least, you'll need some help getting her off the mountain. At the very worst, well, we both know how bad that could be. And we both know that this Harley Grimes isn't just going to let you leave with her. "
"No. But then again, I didn't plan on asking his per - mission. "
