Burning heat rushed through my body, my lungs gasping for air.
“And you a lot skinnier,” Owen replied carefully.
Grayson chuckled. “Do you feel like dying today, Becket? ‘Cause I wouldloveto hear the sound of a bullet rip through your brain.” He lowered his head to Owen’s microphone. “Bet that would shut you right up, wouldn’t it, little bird?”
My legs buckled. What have I done? He was going to kill Owen, because I couldn’t just move on with my life. I had to get involved with the FBI and put everyone life at risk.
Owen gave a strangled laugh. “You don’t really know her at all, do you? Kill me, and you’ll never get to sleep with both eyes closed again. You know? Hell hath no fury, and all that…”
Grayson’s smirk widened, then he whispered something in Owen’s ear that made Owen’s face fall.
Syntax pulled up another bodycam. Liam’s, as he came skidding around the corner. But instead of keeping his weapon raised on Grayson, he put it away, putting his empty hands out in front of him.
“Varon. Don’t kill him. Please.” Liam’s voice was calm, but there was an underlying desperation that choked the last air out of me. This was no nightmare. This was real. Grayson had a gun to Owen’s head.
I spun around and pushed against the van doors. I couldn’t just stand there anymore. I flung myself out the door and raced with all my might to the nearest entrance. I took two stairs at a time, my legs screaming, but I didn’t dare slow my pace. The corridors seemed endless, and my heart sank with each second ticking off that I didn’t reach Owen.
A gunshot went off in the distance, and I screamed in agony.
Six more shots went off, the sound tearing holes through my heart.
Please! Please!I begged the gods, tears blurring my vision as I raced through the panicked tourists. I rounded two more corners, the silence screaming in my head. No more shots. No one was shooting anymore. Why?
Finally, I reached the swarm of agents, pushing them out of the way, not knowing what I would find.
Owen’s voice bouldered over the commotion, “Move out! Find him!”
My knees buckled in relief at hearing his voice. I found his face in the sea of people, looking angry as hell. His eyes locked onto mine and I launched myself at him. A sob escaped me as I threw my arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly to me. “You’re alive. You’re okay,” I sobbed, not caring how crazy I looked.
“I’m shot, and you’re pressing right into it,” Owen groaned.
I pushed back, seeing the red coating his white shirt on his shoulder.
“I’m fine,” he added quickly.
“Where is he? Where’s Grayson?” The panic twisting painfully around my insides still didn’t dissipate.
“He got away,” Liam said from beside Owen.
“He wasn’t injured,” Owen added quietly, studying my face as relief finally made my body go limp. He tried to look away, but I caught the disappointment on his face. Disappointment in me.
“You need to get to a hospital,” I said firmly.
“I’ll go when Varon is in cuffs. And you are in danger here. Taylor, get her back to the van.” Owen took a step back from me, his tone impersonal and angry.
“I agree with Ava. You should—” Liam started.
“Now!” Owen cut him off.
Liam’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Owen…” I tried, but he turned and jogged off, barking commands over the comms as he went.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s okay. Let me just get you to the van first.”
I sat in the van, watching as the agents swept every nook and cranny of the museum and the surrounding buildings for the third time. No trace of Grayson.
I sighed. “I’m getting some air,” I informed Syntax.
