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She awoke disoriented, confused by the light streaming in behind her curtains. It took a moment to remember she’d just worked three night shifts in a row and had come home to find Owen in her house.
Or had that been a dream?
She was hungry and still tired. But it was best to get up now, at noon, rather than sleeping the entire day away. Pushing her hair from her eyes, she staggered to the bathroom. A shower helped clear the cobwebs away, and she felt more like her usual self after she’d blow-dried her long blond hair and changed into a pair of navy capri pants and a matching T-shirt.
Stepping out of her bedroom, she looked around to make sure Owen hadn’t returned. Feeling foolish for even expecting that, she detoured into the kitchen.Food first, she thought, then she’d call Doug.
He’d be upset at the delay, but that was too bad. She pulled some leftover spaghetti from the fridge. As she stuck it in the microwave, she heard a thudding sound coming from the vicinity of her garage.
Had Owen come back after all?
Picking up a kitchen knife, she moved toward the door that connected her house to the garage. After listening for a moment and hearing nothing, she abruptly yanked the door open.
Then she screamed when a man who was not Owen charged toward her.
She thrust the knife at him, horrified when the blade sank into the man’s side. But the wound couldn’t have been serious because it didn’t stop him.
The strange man lunged forward, closing the gap between them.
“No! Help!” Her scream was cut off by the intruder’s fingers curling around her throat.
The back door of her house burst open, and she heard Owen’s voice shouting, “Let her go!”
Caught off guard, her assailant released her and turned toward Owen. Owen fired two rounds, striking the guy in the center of his chest. Her assailant dropped to the floor without saying a word.
“Call 911,” she said shakily, as she kneeled beside the fallen man.
“No. We need to get out of here.” Owen grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the assailant. She wanted to scream at him, but as a nurse, she could tell that unlike the knife still embedded in his side, the two gunshots to the intruder’s chest were fatal.
CPR wasn’t going to help him now.
Her mind reeling, she stumbled as Owen pulled her through the back door and out into the sunlight. She winced as her eyes tried to adjust to the brightness.
“Wait. Stop. We can’t leave the scene of the crime.” It had taken a moment for her mind to function logically after being attacked by a stranger in her own home and being nearly choked to death. “We need to call the police.”
“Not yet.” Owen continued tugging her through the backyard. “Not until we’re someplace safe, and we know who we can trust.”
Belatedly, she remembered how a cop had turned out to be a bad guy back in January. Was Owen right to be suspicious? Maybe.
Or maybe she was trying to convince herself as Owen basically kidnapped her for the second time in a matter of months.
CHAPTERTWO
Owen wasboth relieved he’d hunkered down to watch Emily’s place while she slept and furious to realize how close she’d come to being killed.
Because of him. There was no other explanation for the assailant targeting her. At first, he’d thought the guy was Juan Sanchez, but he wasn’t. The guy he’d shot must have thought Emily could provide information about Owen. Which was true considering he’d gone there to see her.
Yet Owen knew he hadn’t been followed to Emily’s home. Not only had he ditched his phone, but he’d double backed and retraced his route too many times for that to have happened. Besides, depending on who was involved in this mess, they wouldn’t need to follow him.
They’d know Emily had been with him back in January. They could have shown up on her doorstep at any time.
But they hadn’t until now. Because he’d made the call to Will Minor, the Denver police officer who in turn had spoken to Colin Granger with the DEA to let them know he was alive and eager to get back into the game.
First, one strange man had tried to kill him. Then a second bad guy had gone after Emily.
How many more were out there, waiting to pounce? And who had sent them? Sanchez? Minor? Granger? Or someone else?
“Owen, wait.” Emily’s breathless voice tugged at his heart. He hated knowing she was in danger. Back in January, he’d made sure the others didn’t touch her.