by India Kells
“And you? How are you faring?”
Mary was lost in thought for a moment before her gaze turned to her. “I thought I knew my boys well, even better than they knew themselves. Wesley, as the oldest, was always the calm leader of the three. Responsible, taking charge. Lance, my sweet Lance, was the funny one, strong and honorable, turning everything into jokes, lighting up the mood every chance he got. I always saw Owen as the observer, the thinker. Grounded, thinking about the next smart move. That’s why when he told me he had worked in that place, it wasn’t a complete surprise. I remember when it was only the two of us, not long before he was called to join the Navy, our car broke down, I was out of my mind. Money was so scarce. Owen didn’t fret. He knew I could barely make ends meet. His calmness impressed me. The next day, he took the car away, and that same night, it was back and running like new. I didn’t ask questions, but I know now where he got the money. All he did, he did for our family, for his brothers, for me. I realize that he has a strong sense of sacrifice. I’m scared for him.”
Dylan frowned, putting her computer away and the glass down. Touching Mary’s fingers, she saw the older woman swallow reflectively. “Why? Owen is incredibly good at what he does. Why should you be scared?”
When Mary looked back up at her, fresh tears glimmered in her eyes and she blinked them away. “To what extent could he sacrifice his career, his health, his happiness, or even his life for us? I don’t want that for him. I want a future for my son.”
What could she say? Dylan had seen the trait in him, admired it at some level, but now she understood the fear gripping Owen’s worried mother, as one similar churned in her gut.
“I wish I could tell you everything would be all right, Mary, but—”
The older woman patted her hand. “I know, but for the time being, can you take care of my boy? I know he won’t stay here long, that he has a mission to complete with you. As long as you’re together, can you keep an eye on him? I don’t know you much, Dylan, but I see you care about Owen.”
Dylan squeezed her hand and nodded, emotions rushing inside of her. “I can promise you that much, Mary.”
The blonde woman smiled, several years fading from her face as her worry lifted. “Thank you.” Taking her glass with her, she got up. “Luckily I turned off the oven before the sudden revelation of Owen. Everything will be cold, but at least edible. Are you hungry?”
Dylan nodded. “Starving. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Mary’s eyes drifted to the house and Dylan checked what she was looking at. Owen was standing behind the screen door, his face in the shadows.
“Take the time you need, Dylan.” Gently, she kissed her brow, and Dylan’s eyes widened in surprise, her heart fluttering in her chest. It must be Mary’s motherly gesture that stirred something inside of her. The buried longing of the mother she never had.
Still stunned, she observed Mary walking back to the house, Owen opening the door for her. His mother touched his arm before looking back at Dylan and disappearing inside the house. Slowly, almost tentatively, the warrior got down the stairs and walked to her, his eyes solely on hers.
“Were you hiding, Dylan?” He stopped beside her, his hands in his pockets.
Dylan angled her head. “If I were hiding, you wouldn’t have found me.”
She saw his mouth tremble, refraining a smile. “I found you once.”
“Just because Beatrice pointed you in the right direction.”
Owen smirked. “If it comforts you to think so. How is your knee?”
Dylan wiggled her toes before tentatively bending her knee in a wince. “With the brace and the painkillers, it’s getting better. I may not be able to run, but at least, I’ll be able to walk. And you?”
“My knees are both fine, thank you.”
Shaking her head, Dylan scooted over to stand up. Owen extended his hand, and she smiled. “A gentleman and a smart ass, what a combination. But you haven’t answered my question. Let me rephrase: are you okay? After the grand reveal, how is it going with your family?”
As he pulled her up, instead of letting her find balance, he circled her hips with his hands, head bending, his lips touching her forehead tenderly. “I expected more drama from my mom, and less from my brothers, I got the opposite.”
Soothingly, Dylan traced the lines of his muscles through his sleeves. “I talked to your mom, and part of her is sad that she couldn’t shield you from your father. Another is proud, but also worried that you would sacrifice too much for her.”
Owen took a deep breath, his head moving so his cheek touched hers. Dylan relished in the newfound intimacy. “I can’t help it. I can’t explain it, but it’s in me to protect. Protect her and protect my brothers. Maybe it’s part of the reason why I decided against telling them about what I have done. At first because I didn’t want them to judge me, but mostly I didn’t want them to know what I was capable of.”
“You are capable of anything, but bottom line, you care. You are a protector, you care about your family and want them safe. They see the goodness in good, your love for them. That’s all that matters”
He nodded, his beard scratching her cheek lightly. His arms tightened around her, making her lean into his embrace, circling his neck with her arms.
“Wes will get over it, I think he’s angrier at me for not asking for his help back then. He’s the oldest, he feels it was his duty to take care of me. To take care of us all. As for Lance, I’ve never seen him so quiet. I think he understands, although he doesn’t know what to say to me.”
“They love you, fiercely. They will get over it.” And to emphasize her statement, she tightened her arms around his neck and hugged him hard.
“I hope you’re right.” His voice, low and tentative, broke her heart. When she spoke, she made sure to push the gloom away.
“I know I’m right. I’m a mighty hacker, remember?”
His chest rumbled in contained laughter at her words.
Dylan lessened her grip so she could look at his face. “Give them time. And don’t shut them out.”
Owen snorted. “As if they would let me.”
“Good. Now, for the business at hand.”
His face changed immediately, turning into an intense mask of blazing focus. “You found something.”
Dylan’s mouth quirked. “Let’s get inside. We need to set things in motion, and protecting your family, and especially your mother, is the priority.”
Owen’s hands lessened, letting go of her hips to cup her face, his rough fingers tender against her cheeks. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against hers. A connection. A warming comfort at first. Losing balance, Dylan gripped his shirt, and the mood changed instantly.
Warmth turned into blistering fire, but only for a moment. Dylan leaned back, and cupped his cheek, running her fingers through the blond beard. “Let’s get inside. We need to protect your family and I have clues where to find our creepy brunette.”
Chapter 30
It didn’t take a lot of time to get everyone on the same page. Wesley seemed calmer, probably with the help of Mac, who winked at Dylan as she limped into the living room.
Mary stood immediately, offering her seat, but Dylan shook her head at her.
“Dylan, let me get you something to eat. It seems that you’re the only one who hasn’t pilfered my cold supper.”
“I would like that. Nothing complicated, I don’t want to be any trouble.”
Mary smiled, pleased to have something to do, and went into the kitchen. Owen hovering nearby, she sat down beside Wesley, who was hip to hip with Mac. The face of the older brother was much calmer, but Dylan suspected that heat was still simmering inside of him, but as a pragmatic SEAL, he decided to choose the practical side of the situation.
Lance came down the stairs, and smiled as he saw her. “Dylan, you’re a wise woman to have stayed invisible during the worst of the fight. I admire you. How’s the
knee?”
Extending and bending her leg, she was happy to feel almost no pain. “Good! Thank Luke if you talk to him.”
Lance quickly frown, a warning she could guess, and nodded. “He told me to remind you not to forget your meds. And no running. You should be able to walk normally with the brace, but don’t exert yourself.”
“I’ll try my best. But I have no intention of willingly running a marathon in the near future.”
Lance smirked. “I wasn’t only referring to when you’re standing on your feet.”
Mary came back with a plate and smacked her son behind the head as she passed, then handed a sandwich to Dylan. “Lancelot Sorenson, I didn’t raise you to be naughty.”
“Mom!” Lance whined, rubbing his head with a frown, but his eyes gleamed with amusement. “I’m only reporting what the doctor said.”
“From what I saw of the doctor … Luke, isn’t it? He’s not the kind of young man to make such bad jokes.”
As she took a healthy bit of the chicken sandwich, Dylan looked at Lance and detected a faint blush on the man. Adorable.
To save Lance from more teasing, she shook her head and decided to share her plan with everyone.
“Okay, as you were discussing, I was researching. My first point of order is the safety of everyone here, especially Mary.”
Mary blinked. “Why should I be in danger? I don’t know that person you’re after.”
Dylan looked at Mac before leaning forward. “This person, the woman I’m searching for, is not sane. So far, she played with me, but hurt everyone else close to me. Now, she knows that the Sorensons are important in my eyes, that makes all of you possible targets.”
Saying the very words, Dylan couldn’t look at Owen or anybody else in the room. It wasn’t in her to lay her fears in the open, but she also knew that Mary Sorenson was as stubborn as her sons. And maybe the three men knew that it would be nearly impossible to make their mother budge, so it was now a woman-to-woman confrontation.
“Mary, I don’t want you to hide, I want you to be safe until I can find the threat, and take care of her. You have three sons, three of the fiercest warriors, and one of the best snipers on your side. I’m begging you to listen to me.”
Mary looked at her for a long moment, and Dylan saw stubbornness flaming in her gaze. Bracing herself for a fight, she was about to go for another round when someone knocked at the door. Guns appeared in a second, and she heard Wesley muttering about security upgrades as Owen stood up close to both Dylan and his mother. Lance went for the door. After a quick look through the window, his posture shifted before turning to his brothers.
“Delivery man. Mom, are you expecting anything?”
Mary frowned. “No, nothing.”
Dylan stood up and took a step before Mary as Mac flanked her husband.
Lance cracked open the door, his gun out of sight. Dylan couldn’t hear what was said, but the conversation was short. Lance closed the door, and turned, a big bouquet of flowers in his arms.
“It’s for you, Dylan. There is no note and the delivery man doesn’t know who gave the order. I don’t see anything; it seems it’s only flowers. Pretty safe, but from our creep, nonetheless.”
Dylan went to Lance and examined the flowers—a bunch of white daisies, beautiful and simple wrapped in a clear film. And creepy when knowing who sent them.
Wesley came closer. “Is that from her?”
Dylan pondered it. “I guess. But why? Maybe to confirm that she knows where I am. Some sort of power play.” She took the flowers and started unwrapping the cellophane. The smell that rose was strong, the sickening mixture of lavender and citrus confirmed the origin of the sender. She was about to turn to the others, when she detected a bitter taste on her tongue. Panic filled her as Dylan remembered the very characteristic of an airborne hallucinogenic Knudson had used on her.
Pushing past Lance, she sprinted through the door at full speed, ignoring the waking pain in her knee and the shouts behind her. She rounded the house to throw the poisoned flowers into the trash bin before tightly closing the lid. But it was too late, the hallucinogen had made its way into her lungs, and even quicker than she remembered due to the surge of adrenaline and her sudden sprint.
Her vision started to blur when she saw Owen and Lance beside her.
“The flowers were laced with a hallucinogen. Same one used by Knudson.” She swayed and Owen grabbed her. Before she was lost to the drug, she grabbed his hand. “We must go into hiding. Protect …” Her speech slurred, and she felt like she was standing on a rocking boat at sea. “Protect your family. Owen. Hide. Mary. Computer. Beatrice … hideout.”
Dylan panicked, as the words coming from her lips didn’t seem to make any sense. Owen’s face blurred and she his voice dimmed into a distant rumble. Her heart picked up, galloping at an alarming pace, and she knew what was to come. Before her body would surrender and shut down, she would endure awful nausea, trembling muscles, and terrifying hallucinations. She wished she could tell Owen, but it was as if her consciousness had isolated her from the outside. Again, she was plunged into her nightmare, but before she was lost to her inner monsters, she vowed to bring that woman down. For good.
Chapter 31
If there was ever a positive side at being caught in a delirium, apart from fighting shadows and faceless monsters, was that her mind was whirling faster and clearer than usual. That’s what Dylan wanted to believe anyways. The only face she saw was the psycho brunette. In this timeless space, she observed it, every detail, every feature, and something nagged at her.
Dylan remembered every single face of Knudson’s victims, as well as their families. She had studied the case files and questioned them to no end. That link didn’t click for her. An admirer? It was true that the Knudson’s serial kidnapper and killer case had been plastered over national television for months, partly due to the fact that Knudson appeared more like a guy next door than a demon. But an admirer wouldn’t have known about the madman’s smell addition.
Her mind whirled a while longer, and she let a bunch of horned mermaids pass by.
And again, the brunette’s face reappeared. Why did she look so familiar? Knudson didn’t have any family. No siblings. That couldn’t be it. Could it be? Her mind blurred again, making it impossible to focus. Slowly, panic filled her. Would she be here forever? And what about Mary? And Lance, Wesley, and Mac? Owen’s face came into focus, and as she tried to grab it, he disappeared to pop again, over and over. The closer she got, the farther he fled. Alone, frantic in her swirling nightmare, Dylan pursued an image that she knew wasn’t real, but couldn’t help to call at him, to scream his name, as if trying to ground her in a world that wasn’t real. But what was real? Did she imagine everything that happened since she had escaped her tormentor or was she dead, caught in eternal limbo? Was Owen simply a fantasy? Anguish pushed back panic, her throat clogging with tears.
It was the last thought she had, the sadness of having lost what she never had.
At a snail’s pace, the colors stopped swirling, replacing this roller-coaster ride with utter stillness. The change was stunning, and Dylan waited for the whirl to get at it again. But it didn’t. Her heart slowed down, and her skin stopped tingling, making her realize that she wasn’t dreaming anymore. She wasn’t asleep, but lying on a bed. Tentatively, she opened her eyes. A headache pounded inside her head immediately, the dim light setting a mean hangover.
As her mind cleared, she remembered the flowers and the drug overdose. Eyes on the ceiling, her memories mingled with her hallucinogenic dreams, the brunette … She needed a computer. She had to see if her dream could be the clue she was waiting for. Too bad that when she moved her head, it was as if it was being cracked open. Eyes tearing up from the pain, she blinked them away, and forced herself to look around and that’s when she saw Owen, asleep beside her bed.
His big frame uncomfortably twisted into the small chair, his chin on his chest and arms crossed, she guessed it was so
me sort of power nap as he couldn’t possibly be comfortable enough to have a rejuvenating sleep. Were they still at his mother’s house? She prayed not. The room looked familiar, but she couldn’t focus on where that memory was coming from yet.
As the stabs behind her eyeballs faded away, her body felt as if she had run a marathon, or wrestled a rabid dog, a feeling she still remembered from her encounter with Knudson who used that hallucinogenic on her to try bending her will, if not shattering her mind. Dylan hoped she had been quick enough to get any remnant outside, and that they understood her warning before she became an incoherent, babbling mess.
She pushed herself up and winced, her body sore and her knee disagreeing. The rustling sheet immediately alerted Owen who went from dozing to full alertness in a mere second, launching himself at her side.
