Page 34 of Owen (Blue Team #1)
I knew what I was about to do was wrong.
I should’ve turned around—but I wasn’t going to.
No, not wrong. It was the right thing to do, but Owen was going to be unbelievably pissed and he’d probably never forgive me.
For the last thirty minutes, I’d been on auto-pilot.
I couldn’t think about what I’d done. It had been easy.
No, it had been the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life.
But I was right to do it. The closer I got to the airport the tighter my stomach cramped.
As soon as I made it off the mountain without running off the road killing myself, I started making calls.
God, Owen was going to be so pissed.
The first call I made was to Wilco. The conversation was curt and quick. I informed him I was coming home, he told me there would be a plane ticket waiting at the Spokane airport. He already knew where I was. I knew better, he’d always known.
Once that was done, I called Tex.
To say the man was furious was an understatement.
The anger I heard in his voice was almost enough to scare me into turning around and going back to Owen—which was what Tex was demanding I do.
By the time I ended the call, I couldn’t say Tex was any less angry with me but I’d given him everything I had on my father, Wilco, the Pollaski organization, shell companies, addresses, all the names I could remember on Wilco’s long, extensive list of high-powered people he blackmailed.
Every detail I could remember. And I told him where I thought my mother was buried.
Not that it really mattered—my father killed her and he was dead, but I still gave Tex the intel.
I also told him I would keep Owen’s cell phone, which I’d swiped out of our room, powered up and on my person for as long as I could.
I figured once I was collected from O’Hare I’d be going to Wilco’s brownstone, but to be on the safe side, until the phone was taken from me, Tex could track me.
He also made me promise to memorize his number, Zane’s number, and Myles’s.
Since I’d stolen Owen’s phone Myles would be the fastest way for me to get to Owen.
Not that he’d ever want to talk to me after this.
The shrill of Owen’s phone ringing made me jump in my seat. I was still on 90 West, my exit was coming up, and I needed to pay attention but I still answered.
“Hello?”
“Natasha.” Owen’s furious growl filled the SUV and I knew I’d been wrong.
Owen wasn’t angry, he was breathing-fire, singe-the-earth mad.
Oh, shit.
“I have to do this,” I rushed out.
“No. You. Don’t.”
“Please, honey, listen to me. I have to. I told you I can’t live with it and now I know how right I was. Those two boys are hurt and in the hospital because of me. Eva is hurt. The—”
“Do not do this, Nat. ”
“I have—”
“Baby, please, do not do this,” he whispered and my heart shattered. “Don’t do this to me, to us, baby. I’m fucking begging you to come home.”
I saw the exit and for a nanosecond, I thought about not taking it.
I thought how easy it would be to chicken out and pull off the road and let Owen and the guys find me.
They’d figure out a way to pick me up. They’d have to get another car since I’d stolen the SUV, but they’d do it. Especially Owen.
He’d come.
I knew it.
Actually, that was what I was counting on.
I took the exit.
Then I did something I never thought I’d have to do again. I pulled on my Sarah Pollaski facade.
“I called Tex, he knows everything—”
“Baby, please.”
“I told him everything I remember. He can help—”
“Jesus, fuck, Natasha!” Owen shouted and I jerked the car. My fake persona slipped and wet pooled in my eyes.
I had to be stronger than this if I was going to stay alive. I had to find the old Sarah. She could endure anything. I had to be strong.
“I’m sorry, Owen. I’m so, so sorry. I love you but—”
“If you fucking loved me your ass wouldn’t have snuck out of the house the second my goddamn back was turned. If you loved me, you’d fucking trust me to take care of this.”
Oh, God.
I had to get off the phone. I couldn’t listen to him any longer. I was too weak. I wouldn’t do what I had to do.
“I trust you with my life,” I told him.
“Mark this, Natasha, I’m coming for you. And fair warning, baby, when I do I’m gonna be fucking pissed.”
“I’m counting on it, honey. ”
“Jesus fuck.”
“I love you, Owen. Straight to my soul, I love you. No matter how this ends I need you to know you gave me everything. I’m happy. I’m clean. Now I need to do this so I can be free. So no one else is hurt. I’ll buy you time. But, honey, please hurry. I don’t know how long I can last.”
“Fucking hell!” he roared and I pulled the phone from my ear. “Don’t do this, baby, please, Nat. Just—”
“I love you,” I sobbed. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
I stabbed blindly at the screen until I finally disconnected.
Owen called five more times.
I didn’t answer.
I parked in long-term parking, texted Tex where I left the SUV. Then I made my way to the ticket counter and that was where my plan was shot to shit.
“Good to see you, Sarah,” Franco sneered. His hand wrapped around my bicep and I was assaulted with a whiff of his overbearing cologne. “After all this shit you’ve caused, you’re lucky you wised up. Saved me the trouble of collecting you. Now stay smart and don’t make a scene.”
What in the world was happening? What had I made easy and how had Franco made it to Idaho so quickly?
We were outside almost to a silver Cadillac Escalade when Franco said, “Your uncle’s a smart man.” A man I recognized as one of Wilco’s soldiers opened the rear passenger door when we got close.
Franco shoved me in, the door slammed, and moments later we were driving out of the airport.
I was fucked.