Owen shrugs, and the movement is slow and sloppy. The alcohol is starting to affect him more than I’d like.
“I don’t know. Money? To kill me?” he answers.
“You aren’t serious?”
He shrugs again.
“Noah and two others are stationed outside the doors to the education center office, where you’re meeting him. He will be searched and strippedof all weapons before you go in there with him. And Owen?”
“Yes?” he asks, eyebrow quirking.
“If everything goes to shit, protect your goddamn left side.”
With that, I practically drag him up the stairs.
Noah’s waiting for us. The scowl on his face says more than his words ever could. He doesn’t trust Peyton, and he doesn’t like this situation one bit. I don’t blame him, but I made a deal. A rotten one.
“I take it he’s already in there?” I ask.
Noah nods, picking up a bag and shoving it in my arms. “This is what we found on him.”
I open the bag, and Owen leans over to peer inside, too.
“Fuuuck.”
“What he said,” Noah chimes in.
The bag is full of weapons. A gun with a silencer, two daggers, another handgun, and…
“Are those poison darts?” I ask Noah.
He nods.
Taking a deep breath, I take Owen’s hand and pull him to the door of the office.
I open it to find Peyton sitting, his hands behind his head and ankles crossed on top of the round table in front of him. Books are haphazardly stacked in the wooden shelves behind the table, and children's toys and replicas of animals fill plastic bins on the floor.
Peyton wears a cynical grin. “You’re late,” he says as his gaze lands on Owen.
I don’t acknowledge his comment. “You have five minutes, Mr. Radd. No more. If you touch a hair on his head, I’ll make you wish you never even heard the name Owen Mills.”
Peyton chuckles. “Oh, I have no doubt, Miss Riley.” He pulls his hands from the back of his head and holds them up. “I have no desire to get on your bad side. I’ve seen what you do to men you don’t like.” He winks for emphasis.
“What does that mean?” Owen asks innocently.
“Nothing,” I growl. “Seems he has a flair for the dramatic. You have five minutes, starting now.”
I reluctantly drop Owen’s hand and storm out of the room, shutting the door behind me. I know what I said to Peyton was risky. I know I’m treading a fine line and that my little act won’t hold up much longer, but all I can think of is Owen. I cannot lose him.
The next thing I know, my legs give out, and I collapse against the door. Noah is instantly at my side. He doesn’t say a word but sits next to me. A steady shoulder to lean against.
It’s the longest five minutes of my life, and all I can think of is: I may have just killed Owen.
When the timer goes off, I’m on my feet and through the door before anyone blinks. Peyton swivels his head to me and grins, though I hardly notice because slumped over the desk is Owen.
I’m on Peyton in an instant, pinning him to the wall, my elbow collapsing his trachea. He chokes for air, clawing at my arm.
“Nova,” Noah’s voice comes from behind me. “He’s fine. Just unconscious.”
