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She glanced behind her and had to realize that she couldn’t make the jump without a running start that she couldn’t get with him standing in the way. She was cornered. She was either going to have to face his loaded weapon or the prospect of falling three stories to the ground. He half expected her to turn on him like a feral animal. Her other choice was to play it cool and try to bargain. She was a pro. He doubted she had any actual loyalty to Wilson. If he handled the negotiation right, she’d flip.
She sighed and focused on him. “What’s your option, tough guy?” Her tone suggested that she was still in charge of this conversation. She wasn’t.
“You surrender to me, and I take you to the police,” he said. It really was that simple.
“Hah.” She made a disgusted sound. “Where I get charged with what?”
“Can’t say for sure, but the prosecutor might go easy on you if you flip on Wilson. Tell them what you know.”
“I cleaned the damn knife,” she argued, angry with herself.
“You still know plenty about his operation,” he said, pushing what he saw as his advantage. “If you turn yourself in, there are still cards you can play, ways you can pull your life together after this. But if you don’t agree to my deal, thereisno life for you after this. If you come charging at me, I’ll shoot—and I won’t miss. Or you could head in the other direction…but it’s a long way down.”
Involuntarily, she looked down at the drop, and he saw her confident mask waver.
“And there’s one more thing I’ll want from you,” he added, pressing his advantage.
“What?” she snapped.
“You’ll give an exclusive interview to a reporter of my choosing about what it was like working for Wilson.” That could be a career-maker for Sophie. He could give her that even if she didn’t want a future with him.
Quinn glared at him. “That’ll ruin my reputation. I might be able to keep quiet what I tell the cops, but putting a story in print? No one will ever hire me again.”
Owen blinked. Was she really worried about her career as a fixer? She had to know that she was going to prison. “Again, consider your options. You can find another career, but another life?”
“Shit. Fine, okay. I’ll do it,” she said. She muttered several more curses as he checked her for additional weapons and bound her wrists together with his belt. He walked her to the opening in the roof and, before she could object, he flung her over his shoulder to go back down the ladder.
He could already hear police sirens nearing his location. He just had to get downstairs and hand Quinn over. Then, he’d be free to find Sophie.
THIRTY-THREE
It had been silent for far too long in the building across the street. Gunshots had rung out, but those had stopped two, maybe three minutes earlier. Sophie paced back and forth in front of the windows of the auto parts store where they’d taken refuge.
“Should we go help him?” she asked Micky, not for the first time.
“He’s got this,” Micky reminded her. “You know he does.”
She did know that. Owen was the most capable person she knew. Even Quinn, as smart and capable as she was, probably wasn’t prepared to do battle with a former SEAL. Who was?
That’s not what worried Sophie. She was afraid that Owen wouldn’t concentrate on his task, and his worry about her and Micky getting to safety would somehow make him vulnerable. That his worry could cause him to make a mistake. She’d never forgive herself if he was hurt or worse. There were things she needed to say to him, things that had become clear to her when she’d been taken captive.
“Maybe I’ll just step out and see,” she said as she headed for the door.
“Sophie. Let him do his thing.” Micky caught her arm, stopping her.
“But what if he’s lying somewhere in that building bleeding, and I’m just standing here?” She couldn’t take not knowing what was happening. Did Owen need her help? “Please let me go.”
Micky’s hold loosened on her as he pointed out the window. “There’s Ethan. And the police.” She turned in time to see Ethan pull up and squad cars came to a stop in front of the building.
“Thank goodness.” She ran out of the hardware store, planning to go to Ethan, but just then, Owen came out of the building. Quinn was with him, but he was clearly in control. Sophie gave it thirty seconds, enough time for him to hand Quinn over to a police officer and explain who she was. Then she ran across the street, throwing herself into Owen’s arms. He staggered back a step before righting them both and holding her tight to him.
She rested her head on his shoulder with her face turned into his neck and just held on as she breathed in his scent. It was warm, masculine, and reassuring. The familiar cologne made her feel safe. No, it wasn’t the cologne—Owenmade her feel that way. The sense of safety came from the trust she had in him. She’d never trusted anyone so much and probably never would. That alone told her so much about him, about them.
They had a future together. She believed that so strongly that the words almost seemed unnecessary. They’d say them later. For now, being with him was enough. Long before she wanted him to, he put a little space between them. She couldn’t stop touching him, so she rested her hands against his chest. She looked at his face, but his attention was focused downward.
“Are you…?” He noticed the bruises on her wrists from the zip ties. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “She did hurt you.” His fingers stroked over the damaged flesh. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep you safe and away from her. I should never have suggested we split up. If I’d been with you at the newspaper office—”
“Stop, Owen. This isn’t you fault, and I don’t care about a few bruises.” She gripped his fingers. “All that matters is you’re safe. When I heard the gunshots, I was so scared that she’d…when I hadn’t told you—”
