“Just like you,” Owen replied softly, an easy smile on his lips. Rachel made a gagging noise and Owen rolled his eyes. “I meant her heart.Yours, however, is as dark as the deepest depths of the Marianna Trench.” He scowled at Rachel.
“Aawh, thanks, love,” Rachel mocked, clutching her hands to her heart.
“To me, Rach, your heart is the colour gold. Like the sun. It warms everyone around you.”
Owen gave me a doubtful look.
I chuckled. “And you, Agent Becket, your heart is a deep blue. Not the sad kind. The calming kind. The quiet kind of blue that makes everyone instinctively trust you. Because you’re a safe haven.”
Owen smiled down at his burger.
Another firefly landed on my knee, and we all quietly watched it flicker its light.
“Nah, it’s definitely the sad kind,” Rachel quipped. She almost sprayed her water all over us, laughing at the glare she received from Owen. I couldn’t help but laugh too. Even Owen turned away to hide his smile.
“You’re pure evil, aren’t you, blondie?” Owen said as his cell phone started ringing.
A bitterness choked me when Syntax’s name flashed on the screen, squeezing out all the good feelings I’ve tried to collect during this vacation with Rach.
You just have to ruin everything, huh, Grayson?
I knew what that bitterness was—the reminder that burned in my throat as a constant reminder of what I had to endure. Of what he’d put me through.
Owen ended the call and turned to me. There was a glint of excitement in his eyes, but also weariness. “No,” he exhaled, shaking his head in dismissal before he even told me what was going on. “We can deal with this tomorrow, let’s enjoy—”
“No. Tell me,” I interrupted.
He sighed but nodded. “Syntax found out who Grayson gave the paint to. A Michael Volkov. He has ties to the Bratva. She found a warehouse belonging to him in Willsbury.”
“Oh my God, Ava!” Rachel shrieked. “You helped steal money forgery paint for theRussian Mafia?” She gave a freaked-out squeal. “Don’t get me wrong, it’sbadass, babe. But whoareyou? TheBratva?” she mouthed, looking all kinds of flabbergasted.
I shrugged. It didn’t even surprise me that Grayson was working with the Russian Mafia. Of course, he was.
“We have to go to Willsbury to check the warehouse out ourselves,” Owen continued, ignoring Rachel’s little freak-out. “Emerie and Marshall are in France with the art informant and Liam has been MIA for two days. Claims to be sick. The bastard’s never sick.”
“Are you gonna do a stakeout?” Rachel’s eyes were glinting. “Can I come with? I’ve always wanted to do a stakeout!”
“Yes!” I answered excitedly.
“No!” Owen countered. “I’m not taking a civilian on a stakeout.”
Rachel and I instinctively clutched onto each other’s hands and held tight. We exchanged a sad look. We weren’t ready to say goodbye yet.
We turned our gazes on Owen.
He recoiled a bit, as his eyes flicked between us. “No! It’s out of the question. It’s too dangerous. And not to mention, I could get fired!”
“But we’ll just be sitting in a car, watching the place from a distance. That’s not dangerous. And no one has to know. Please, Owen. I miss my friend.” And I needed her. She kept my embers glowing. They would surely go out if I had to leave her again. So, I gave him my best puppy eyes.
“Ava…” He groaned throwing his head back in exasperation.
“Look, I’ll even be nice to you,” Rachel tried.
“Please, Owen,” we both said at the same time, giving each other a quick smile. Rach and I must have been twins in a previous life. Or so we liked to think.
“Fine!” he answered after an uncomfortably long and despising glare at the two of us.
A few hours later, we sat in Owen’s SUV, parked on a dodgy street in Willsbury’s industrial area, each sucking on a lollipop.
