“Owen! There’s someone here!” I hissed the words and increased my rapping when he didn’t answer right away. “Owen! Damn it! Answer the door!”
The bathroom door opened and I practically fell into his wet arms. My body slid against his in a delicious tangle of damp skin that I shouldn’t have even noticed. The shower was still running, but he’d taken the time to wrap a towel around his waist. I looked up at him, water dripping from his hair onto my face.
“There’s someone here!” I whispered as I stood up and pointed to the front door. “And in the back!” I swung my arm behind me.
Without a word he turned around and dropped the towel. My mouth fell open at the view and I felt my head tilt to the side as he bent over to grab his underwear. The man had a lot to work with. He pulled the tight shorts up and I wondered why all men didn’t wear those.
Probably because they wouldn’t all look like Owen in them.
His hand grabbed mine as he slid past me and into the bedroom, pulling me along with him. He opened the closet and punched a hole into the plaster in the back. He reemerged holding a gun, a duffle bag, and a long rifle. I leaned against the wall and tried to listen for anything happening outside.
“Grab me some pants.” He nodded to the dresser and I opened the middle drawer and shoved the clothes around. I found a pair of slacks and a shirt and threw them on the bed. Looking around the room, I spotted my new running shoes. No way was I going to run around in the stupid heels I had worn earlier. Owen checked the rifle before tossing it to me.
“Heads up. You said you were better with a rifle.”
“I said I had shot them, not that I was good with them.” I caught it and checked the slide before slipping the sling over my shoulder. I wasn’t bad, but I wasn’t a marksman either. I’d also never shot at a living person or while running for my life. Too bad I hadn’t thought to practice that type of stuff instead of just shooting at empty cans.
“Let’s hope you’re better than you think.” He smiled at me as he pulled his pants up and slid the shirt over his head. Light danced across his eyes and a wild excitement lit his face.
“What are we going to do? Is it the same people from earlier?” I whispered.
He moved along the wall to peer out the side of the blinds. “Can’t tell. Different car.” He slid his feet into some shoes by the bedroom door and stepped close to me. “Are you ready?”
“For what?” I could feel my eyes go wide. I was growing more and more nervous while he seemed to be slipping into his stride.
“To make our getaway.” He used a finger to tilt my chin up. I opened my mouth to respond but he didn’t wait for my words. His head dipped down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss. The heat from his body next to mine made my head spin and the soft touch of his mouth enticed me more than any other man ever had. I could’ve melted into him right there, the danger to our lives forgotten. His touch was like electricity that ran over my body from head to toe. When his tongue slipped across my lips, I gasped in shocked pleasure. When he pulled back he smiled at my dazed expression. “For luck.”
I swallowed and tried to catch my breath as he pulled his bag over his shoulder and laced his fingers mine. Tugging gently he pulled me through the living room toward the back door.
I crept along behind him and tried to keep my head down. The silence in the house rang in my ears as I strained to hear something from the people outside. Owen held up his hand and I froze mid-step. Pointing to the kitchen counter, he motioned for me to move. I scuttle-walked to the side of the back door.
I could hear the soft scratching of metal on metal as the door knob twisted slowly. One man entered, followed quickly and quietly by another as they slipped into the kitchen. They were wearing normal street clothes and carrying small machine guns. I flattened against the cabinet I was leaning against, but one of them saw me. As he swung in my direction a shot rang out and the man toppled forward, landing against me. I shoved him off just as the lights in the house went out. There was a grunt and the sound of flesh hitting flesh, but I couldn’t tell who was beating who.
When fingers closed around my wrist I jerked backward and almost fell over the dead man.
“It’s me.” Owen pulled me to the door and hit a switch on the way out. The front yard was suddenly bathed in bright strobe lights that blinked in and out every couple of seconds. Shouts came from the front, followed by gunshots, but Owen didn’t stop. We reached the shed in the back and ducked in through a small door on the side.
“Drive or shoot?”
I looked at him like he was crazy. Both were bad options for me.
“Okay. You drive. Do exactly what I say.” He pushed me toward the door of an old farm truck. “We have to go out the front way.”
“Okay.” I unslung the rifle and climbed into the truck. The key was in the ignition and I prayed it would start. Owen undid the latch on the barn style doors before the truck and ran back to the passenger side.
As soon as he was in I turned the key and hit the gas. The truck came to life immediately and I said a silent prayer of thanks. I shifted into drive and slammed my foot down on the pedal. We blew through the doors in an angry crash and I almost ran over two men with guns pointed at us. You’d think with my record they would have made sure to not be in my way. Owen fired quickly and I saw one man go down, but was too busy trying to drive to keep up with it all.
“This is going to be loud.” Reaching into his bag he came out with two small canister shaped objects. Rolling his window down, he hurled them at the two cars in front of his house. Explosions rocked the clearing, but I kept us steady as the truck tore down the gravel path.