Page 7 of Owen (Blue Team #1)

Eight hours later, we were in Idaho. It felt like the hours had passed in the blink of an eye. Yet, somehow I felt like I’d been awake for a week.

Owen had driven us to Z Corps’ headquarters, the ride mostly silent.

When we got there, Owen, Kevin, Gabe, and Myles met us in the parking garage and flanked me as we made our way through the various security checkpoints.

It was not the first time I’d been to Owen’s work.

However, the first time I’d been so overwhelmed with relief after Owen and the guys had saved me from boarding a plane in Alaska to Canada where I would’ve been lost forever, I had not paid attention to my surroundings.

And when I’d met Zane Lewis I hadn’t spoken a word.

Owen and Eva had done all the talking. I hadn’t protested when Owen announced he was taking me back to his place.

My plan had been to slip out that very first night after he’d gone to bed.

But Owen being Owen, he probably sensed my plot and had not gone to sleep.

Each time I’d walked out of the guest bedroom under the pretense of getting a drink he was awake on the couch.

The next few days were a blur. Owen hadn’t pushed me to talk.

He didn’t ask me uncomfortable questions.

He just let me be. Then days turned into months and he remained the same—gentle, kind, steady.

That was, until he had to rescue me once again.

Then he started asking questions, lots of them.

But that day, Amie had given him everything he needed to know—my real name.

Apparently, he didn’t need me to answer the questions he’d bombarded me with.

Owen had investigated my family and knew too much.

Now he was fresh out of patience. Not that I blamed him.

The guys had a brief discussion with Zane, and even though the conversation took place in front of me, I was not part of it.

No one had asked me a single question and I hadn’t offered my opinion.

Then we were on a helicopter, and again I remained silent.

After that, we were on a private jet to Idaho, and as soon as I could, I feigned sleep.

We landed at a small airport south of the place called Sandpoint.

During the hour-long drive, I stared out the window. Yes, in silence.

Now we were driving up a mountain road and I had my eyes closed tight.

Owen leaned closer and murmured, “Babe, it’s not that bad.”

“Um-hum.”

He tried again. “Myles is a good driver.”

“There’s snow on the ground,” I lamely retorted. “And we’re on a cliff.”

“I wouldn’t call it a cliff.”

“Then what would you call a dirt road with a sheer drop-off?”

It was pitch-black out, so dark that when we’d started up the road I couldn’t see anything. Then we hit a switchback and the headlights had illuminated the mountainside and fear struck hard and fast.

“I grew up in Colorado,” Myles said. “Wouldn’t call this a mountain as much as a hill. ”

I hummed my disagreement and kept my eyes closed. If we were going to slide off the side to our deaths I didn’t want to see it coming. I wanted to be blissfully unaware. And wasn’t that just like me?

Eyes closed, ignorant, and mute.

I was doing exactly what Owen had accused me of doing—letting my life roll by me.

I was breathing but not living. I was a bystander in my own life, and the hell of it was I was too afraid to fight to be an active participant.

I knew the pain it would cause if I spoke up.

I knew what the blows would feel like if I tried to escape my circumstances.

The SUV slowed, then finally came to a stop.

“We’re here. You can open your eyes,” Owen whispered.

While I appreciated his attempt at discretion it wasn’t necessary.

I had no pride left, not that I really had any, to begin with.

These men had seen me at my worst—twice.

And it was a toss-up which event was worse.

The time they rescued me from a sex trafficker, or the time Owen carried me out of a small bungalow, bloody and broken.

God, I was pathetic.

Yet, not strong enough to change.

I wasn’t sure what I’d expected but a beautiful log cabin wasn’t it.

I could barely make out the A-frame structure, but from what I could see it was huge.

Owen opened the door and a rush of frigid air washed over my face, the chill almost enough to make me feel alive, but not enough to make me brave.

Just enough to let me know I was no longer in Maryland—a reminder I was on the run from my uncle.

“Thanks,” I mumbled as Owen helped me out.

Owen held on to my arm until I was steady on the icy ground. But when he let go, he remained by my side.

“Myles and Kevin went to get the generator started. No sense in us moving through the dark.”

What he meant was, there was no sense in me trying to walk through the dark where I would likely slip and fall and break a leg. Owen could make it, no problem.

“Thanks.”

A few minutes later, the house lit up and sheer beauty took my frosty breath.

“Come on, I can hear your teeth chattering. Let’s get you inside.”

“Wait.” Owen looked over at me, his brows pinched, and I explained. “It’s so beautiful I wanna look at it a minute. I’ve never seen pine trees so tall before. And the cabin is…magnificent.”

“Wait until you see the inside,” Owen returned.

“You’ve been here?”

“A few years back the team and I were stateside and we came out here. Met up with Rhode and stayed a week.”

There was something in Owen’s tone that gave me pause.

“What happened?”

Owen turned, giving me his full attention.

There wasn’t enough light, but if there was, I would’ve been able to see puffs of his breath.

But right then, standing in the cold with my fingers going numb, something inside of me warmed.

I wouldn’t say it was my libido, that had come on station from the first moment I’d been able to have a cognitive thought after he rescued me.

From there the lust had grown. Owen was a good-looking man so I wasn’t surprised for the first time in my life I’d felt desire.

This was something altogether different—it was bigger, it burned.

“What happened?” he parroted.

“Yeah, why’d you and the guys come out here for a week?”

“Why would you ask that?” he asked and narrowed his eyes.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t—”

“Don’t do that,” he rumbled. “Don’t apologize, don’t stop asking questions, don’t stop talking. I was just wondering why’d you ask why we came out? ”

I sucked in a lungful of fresh air and gathered all my courage.

“The way you said it…I mean, there was almost sadness in your voice when you said you and the team came out here. Which made me wonder if something had happened. You know, something bad, and that’s why you were here.”

In the dim moonlight, Owen’s eyes bore into mine and I had the strangest urge to roll up on my tippy-toes and kiss him. Well, the thought wasn’t strange—I’d been daydreaming about that for months—but the need I felt was like if I didn’t give in to the impulse I would explode.

“Yeah, something bad happened,” he said, cutting off my inappropriate musing.

“I’m sorry.”

Strong fingers threaded with mine and my world started spinning.

And for a moment, standing in the freezing cold with snow under my feet and a sliver of moon overhead, I pretended.

It was dangerous but I did it anyway. I was lost in a dream of make-believe.

A place where I was free. Where I was just me. Where I could love and be loved. Where I was whole and my soul was pure. Where I could have something clean and precious and mine. Where I could touch and kiss and speak. A dreamworld where there was no pain and regret.

“Let’s get you inside and warm.”

I closed my eyes and let my fantasy world drift away. The last vestiges left when Owen tugged my hand and guided me to the porch. I wanted to take a minute, to look around, but Owen was of a different mind. A moment later I was ushered into the cabin.

The big, beautiful, log cabin.

Myles was in a squat in front of the fireplace arranging wood in the firebox. My gaze went to the side door as Gabe walked in with an armful of logs, and without stomping the snow off his boots, he made his way to Myles.

As usual, I remained mute, even if I wanted to scowl at him for tracking snow in.

“It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there,” Gabe mumbled.

“No warmer in here,” Myles grumbled the truth.

The only difference being inside where there was no wind, but it was just as cold.

“Kevin turned on the furnace,” Myles continued. “He’s doing a walkthrough to make sure the vents are open in the bedrooms.”

Owen squeezed my hand and my gaze lifted to his. “Why don’t you sit down? I’m gonna run out and get the bags.”

“I wanna help.”

Owen’s eyes widened then narrowed. “Ground’s covered in snow—”

“Then I can find something to help with in here,” I argued.

“Sarah,” Owen started and I flinched. I really, really wished I hadn’t told him to call me that stupid name. “Babe, it’s been a long day. Why don’t you sit and relax? I’ll grab the bags and when Gabe’s done bringing in firewood, maybe he’ll take pity on us and cook some dinner.”

I was unclear why my feelings were so hurt. Owen was treating me exactly as I’d trained him to do—like I was a helpless, spoiled twit who couldn’t do anything but sit on a couch and watch the people around me work.

“I can help.”

And without waiting for his rebuttal I toed off my sneakers and marched my unhappy ass to the kitchen. I was admiring the granite countertops when I heard the door open and close. It was then I let out the breath I’d been holding and bowed my head.

What if I tried ?

What would it hurt to be Natasha for a little while longer?

What if I could pretend I was a normal person, on a normal vacation in a beautiful log cabin on top of a mountain in Idaho?

Why couldn’t I?