Valiant thief, p.13
Valiant Thief, page 13
part #1 of Seattle Crime Syndicate Series
Chapter Twenty-Four
Owen
Leaning against the cold, concrete wall, I sniffle harshly as the drugs in my system make everything slippery from sweat. Blustering a harsh breath through clenched teeth, I grip the railing to very carefully navigate my way down the stairs. My eyes sting horribly, my legs shaking wildly as I shuffle a little bit at a time. Clutching my side with my free hand, I bite back a groan as I take a single step.
Man, trust Michael to really take the initiative and get Kaitlyn away. Everything had happened so fast, and I pant harshly as I gingerly take another step. Sweat pours down my body in buckets, my hospital gown sticking to my skin and my bandages soaked. But I had to get the fuck outta here before they pumped more drugs into me.
“Ah, fuckin’ Hell,” My snarl echoes up the tall stairwell, and I sit heavily as the pain in my calf sends fire up my leg. “Fuckin’ Ryan . . . man . . . I’m gonna kill him.”
My body trembles with what little adrenaline I can manage to make, and I rub my palm on the gown to grapple the railing. Groaning harshly, my arms do most of the lifting as I hoist myself up again. “Come on. Come on.”
One more level, and I’d be outta here. Fuck, of all the fuckin’ hospitals, it had to be this one. My lips curl as red seeps into the edges of my vision, and I shake my head and inhale through dry, stinging nostrils. I huff hotly as I take unsteady, sluggish steps, my joints creaking dangerously. There is a garage entrance somewhere around here, I know. I’d used it a few times, but my addled mind can’t concentrate as I pour all my focus into not falling down the stairs.
I finally reach the ground floor landing, and I blow out a hot breath through dry, puckered lips before gripping the door handle and tugging. The cool breeze sends ice prickles attacking my flesh, but I ignore it to straighten and scan the parking structure. Relief slumps my shoulders as I spot an older car with a distinctive bumper sticker, and I stumble down the short line of vehicles.
The back passenger door isn’t locked, and I open the front to unlock the driver’s side before rounding the back of the car. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I reach under with trembling hands to grope blindly for the keys under the mat. Wincing as my side flares with pain, I hold my breath as the car turns over easily, and satisfaction slithers up my spine.
“Fuck me.” Shutting the door, I jerk the car into reverse to pull out of the spot and make my way out of the parking structure. The barrier is up, and I simply drive right through and onto the sprawling hospital grounds. Flexing my hands around the wheel, I close my eyes briefly and exhale before reaching to lower the window. Michael and Kaitlyn are at the front of the hospital, and my chest throbs with a fury of emotions when I breach the shadow of the tall buildings. Honking the horn lightly, my throat closes completely as I watch Michael help Kaitlyn up and practically drag her to the car. “Let’s go before they catch up.”
Her head snaps up, fever-bright, brown eyes boggling at my shout through the window, and she rushes at the car to grip the door tightly. Ducking into the car to kiss me hard, she pulls back to smile so brightly before her eyes trail down and she realizes I’m still completely fucked up. Horror twists her features, and I throw my thumb over my shoulder mutely before she climbs into the back seat hastily. “You, you can’t escape the hospital! Owen! That’s so dangerous! You need to go back right now! You could barely open your eyes twenty minutes ago!”
“I know it doesn’t mean much, I’ll die before I voluntarily receive treatment at this hospital,” I state firmly even as my world spins slightly from the car jostling, and I shake my head and clear my throat roughly. Kaitlyn scowls at me. But hey, that’s better than nothing, and I grin cheesy at her in the rearview mirror. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Don’t, don’t do that! I’m not supporting this.” Crossing her arms protectively over her chest, she throws herself back with a huff, and I chuckle with a wince. Clutching my side tightly, I glance down under my gown, but I hadn’t started bleeding. “Why won’t you stay here?”
“I was born here. Anyone that makes such a terrible decision can’t be trusted.” Pulling off towards the main road and out of the complex, I tear my eyes off Kaitlyn as surprise white-washes her face. “I’ll get treatment, okay? Just, just not here.”
“What does that mean? That th-they didn’t c-commit infanticide or, or, or . . .” Stammering heavily, Kaitlyn tenses when Michael puts a hand comfortingly on her shoulder. The silence is heavy, and I inhale sharply when we roll over a speed bump. Flicking on the blinker, I turn onto the main road to head towards downtown before Kaitlyn speaks up again. “What’s gonna happen now, Owen?”
“It’s pretty late, so I was gonna drop you off so you can get ready for work tomorrow. It’s the first day of your new project, right?” I say with a chirp I don’t necessarily feel, and wild bewilderment slackens Kaitlyn’s jaw. “Mike’s gonna stay with you so you’re not alone. It’s not like we can go back home since a car blew up in the bar. But don’t worry. I’m going to my safe house, and Mike’ll come in the morning after you go to work.”
“Don’t worry!” Kaitlyn screeches horribly shrill, and I cringe; she looks about ready to strangle me if I weren’t driving. A sourness coats my tongue at the fire raging in her eyes, and I duck my head as shame sloshes up my throat. “I will worry! You, you!”
She can’t even express how angry she is, and I wince at the physical ache that spreads through me. Guilt churns my gut, and she shivers violently before sitting back to cover her eyes with her hand. The silence is devastating and uncomfortable, and I hold my breath as anticipation races through my system.
“Okay? I’m coming with you. And if you turn any shade of white or green I don’t like, I’m calling an ambulance, understand?” I nod immediately, but there is no satisfaction as Kaitlyn nods firmly. “Good. You know, sometimes I worry if you realize how bad these things are.”
“I love you,” I blurt out, and Michael slaps his face out of the corner of my eye in the rearview mirror. Biting my bottom lip at the sudden silence, I smile through my effort as a feeling better than any drug rushes through my veins. The car starts to swerve heavily, and I sit up stiffly to grip the wheel tighter. Inhaling a sharp breath, I reach a hand to smack my cheeks and lift the hazy fog from my eyes and mind.
I will worry. Kaitlyn worries about me. She had tried to stop me from killing Rowlan and stayed with me at the hospital.
“Pull over,” Michael grumbles from the back seat, and goosebumps blanket my arms and across my chest. Carefully pulling over to the curb, I put the car in park before pausing to gather my strength. “You don’t even know how to get to the house, do you?”
“Uh, no. Do you?” I blink hard in surprise; Michael’s right. I don’t know where the safe house is, and I don’t have my phone. Twisting to look back at him as he nods, I scowl lightly. “Why?”
“Because I’m capable of using Google Maps, Owen.” Our banter is nice, familiar, and I smirk broadly before he climbs out of the back seat. Kaitlyn stares out the window, lost deep in thought. My mouth dries and eyes sting seeing her look so . . . unruffled. Usually, she gets all flustered when I say anything intimate. “Come on, I’ll help you out.”
“I screwed up, didn’t I?” I ask once I’m well in front of the car, and Michael scoffs lightly, shaking his head. Dismay grips my chest and I lick my lips nervously as he helps me into the front passenger seat of the car. The dank atmosphere grows dense, and I buckle myself with numb hands. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean back my seat slightly and hiss as a fierce ache tears up my side. Why is it always my side?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kaitlyn
“This weekend just . . . was horrible from start to finish,” I mutter hoarsely, the guilt and regret oozing from the front passenger seat is suffocating. Owen had almost been killed, escaped from the hospital, and now, confessed he loved me? “I don’t think I can handle anymore of this, Owen?”
“That’s okay, because it’s over now.” He says softly but surely, and I manage a shallow breath before tearing my eyes off my reflection in the window. Owen smiles back at me, strained and clearly in pain, and my heart aches fiercely. “It’s not easy, is it? But it was a long time coming, and all that for a pretty anti-climactic ending when you think about it.”
“You decapitated someone,” That is a sentence I never thought I’d say, and I bite my bottom lip hard as my voice crackles. Owen’s smile falters, and he turns back to face forward as I exhale slowly. “I can’t believe I’m even saying that. I can’t believe I’m still here. I should be going back to Arizona.”
“Is that what you want to do?” Owen asks tentatively, and I hug myself tightly as a cold shiver races up my spine. “Even if you don’t wanna be with me, I think that’d be a mistake . . . for a few reasons. It’d be career suicide, and you’re not gonna be happy, you’ll just be comfortable in that suffocating, browbeating atmosphere that you grew up with. Don’t throw that away, because of a man. You’re worth more than that.”
“Why do you always do that!” I shout at him as my agitation boils over, and I clench my hands into tight fists to pound my lap. “You’re the one that almost died. Do you not even understand what that means? What it was for me? Is this all just another Tuesday to you? You literally snuck out of the hospital within hours of having major surgery! You got shot!”
“None of that matters . . . you matter.” My breath hitches in shock at Owen’s gravelly revelation, and he reaches gingerly to rub the back of his head like he always does. “Isn’t that how it goes? If you’re not happy, it defeats the entire purpose of being together, and you’re obviously not happy. Even if I’m hurt, I’ll heal, but you . . . it was a mistake to ignore the potential damage I did to you. There might not be any going back, but you can probably mitigate the damage.”
“That makes no sense! You’re not less important than me, how dare you think that!” I guffaw in disgust, my arm shooting out to punch his shoulder hard, and he sucks in a sharp breath and stiffens. “You shut up! I’m not gonna just give up, because you have low self-esteem!”
Opening his mouth, Owen holds his shoulder to look over it only for realization to flash brightly in his eyes. And I also realize . . . he doesn’t have low self-esteem, he has no self-esteem. Blinking hard, I purse my lips thinly in sadness that overwhelms my aggravation. All his life, he’s never mattered, and the few people he did have—Owen doesn’t even have ‘people.’ He has a single person. Everyone else has treated him like less than a person.
“You know what, Owen, you’re not the only one that can do something purely out of spite, okay? I’m not going anywhere, and you gotta deal with it.” Glaring at him hotly, I cross my arms tightly under my bust to huff harshly and jut out my chin. “So, you’re gonna have to suck it up and accept that you matter the same amount as I do. Understand?”
“I understand,” he says smally, and I clench my jaw hard before he sluggishly starts listing to the left. Reaching out hastily to stop him slumping over, I grunt lowly when his full weight lands in my arms. Sighing through my nose, I blink back the sting in my eyes at how strained his expression is, even unconscious.
“It’s nice you’re finally getting pushy about it, Kaitlyn. He can be a little too considerate sometimes. He’s been like that since he was little,” Michael says fondly, and I glance over at him as I hold Owen to the seat. The story he had weaved for me was a painful one, and concern worms between my brows as I press my cheek against Owen’s temple. “I think Owen needs to realize what he’s got in you, and you need to realize what you have to lose in him.”
“We haven’t even been together long.” My voice wobbles dangerously, but Michael chuffs a quiet scoff as he casts me a sidelong glance. Unease spreads through me, and icy prickles race up my sternum to spear my heart.
“A long love is just two people losing their individuality to each other. I know what everyone says, Kaitlyn—good relationships are built on trust and communication and time to really know a person . . . but I also saw you look at him the first time and decide, in an instant, that he was worth your effort. Don’t be shy with yourself.” He smiles thinly as weak flames lick my cheeks, and I firmly stare at the dashboard. “And I saw the way he looked at you when I told him you were lookin’ at him. Owen is an extremely cautious person, Kaitlyn. He grew up thinking one wrong word, one bad impression, one step out of place, and he’d end up under his father’s belt again. If one person said anything even remotely negative about him, he paid for it. And I think the opposite of that extreme is you—someone who’s invisible, who’s lumped in and uncomfortable with individual attention, and you don’t feel important to anyone. No one in your life prioritizes you even when you reach your greatest height so far.”
“Yeah,” I wheeze harshly, and Michael’s smile becomes drenched in sympathy as he flicks on the blinker. A huge apartment complex looms overhead that I didn’t notice a mile ago, and I suck in a sharp breath as I lean between the front seats. Thanking God for the distraction, I gulp down the dense lump that forms in my throat as the temperature drops in the shadows. “Where are we?”
“Welcome to Comely Heights, my main source of income. How do you think I keep the bar open with no business?” Surprise knocks the stale air from my lungs, and Michael chuckles as he pulls into a large, two-story parking structure. “All criminals need a way to legitimize their illicit businesses. This is mine. Ryan owns your company, right? I guarantee it’s a wash front for foreign cash.”
“What’s Owen’s?” Waving a hand as he crawls at five miles an hour, Michael shakes his head. “He doesn’t have one?”
“He stockpiles. If you ask for something, anything, he has it, and he’ll give it to you without hesitation or question what it’s for. Rowlan used the family construction business to slush funds. Owen is a big boy, so we can bring him upstairs, and he’ll be fine for a while on his own if he wakes up. I’m gonna take you back to your apartment so you can take a breather and all that.”
“What? No, you need to stay with him. Look at him!” I whisper furiously, but Michael shakes his head again with a grave expression. Frowning darkly, I open my mouth only for him to hold up a hand to stop my protesting further, and my face heats up to my ears. “Mike—”
“I’ll lay out everything he needs, Kaitlyn, but this isn’t new to him. You, however, are going to have a hell of a time dealing with your parents after what I said to them and what they witnessed. Your mother definitely isn’t the type to take that shit lying down. She’s a good mother overall—she raised you into a wonderful person—but individual situations don’t hold up to that. I’m telling you, not asking. I’m going to bring you home and stay with you.” Michael’s tone brokers no argument, and my mouth dries as I duck my head in a nod. He tilts his head in satisfaction, and I adjust my grip on Owen in the ensuing silence.
“I’ve changed a lot, I think,” I murmur quietly, closing my eyes briefly before sighing softly in resignation. “I don’t think that’s bad.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kaitlyn
Surprise catches my breath in my throat as I pull my phone out of my purse and bite my bottom lip uncertainly. Jessie’s name flashes above a long, long list of unanswered texts and calls, and I look over at Owen, unconscious in bed, before swiping the screen.
“Hello?” I whisper, and my sister sighs a loud gust of relief that rattles my ear and down my arm. “What’s up?”
“Don’t be mad, let me explain. I didn’t know, Kitty.” Leaning against the wall to cover my frown with the backs of my fingers, a sour taste coats my tongue. Her panic is real, her breaths short and quick with expectation, and I hum softly in acknowledgment. Indecision tears my chest in two. Jessie is too old to not think critically for herself. And it’s not like Mom hasn’t pulled this before. “Where are you? Are you okay? Because I had to race Mom and Dad to your apartment and steal your hidey-key to lock myself in here to stop them searching for you.”
“Did you tell her I’m not going back to Arizona?” Stunned silence meets me, and I lick my lips anxiously as I take a deep breath in anticipation. “I’m staying in Seattle. I’m not going to forfeit my career, my happiness, and my sense of self to go back home where I’m ignored and pressured to not make a peep and risk rocking the boat. I’m not abandoning my life that I made by myself to be one of thirteen again.”
I use Michael’s words as my own, nodding firmly to myself and hang up before Jessie can say anything. Turning away from the window, I jump when I notice Michael staring at me with a proud smile, leaning against the doorway leisurely. “W-well . . . I can’t go home? My sister barricaded herself in my apartment to stop my parents from barging in to look for me, and I really just told her off. I guess I’m on the run, too. Can I ask you a question?”
“If it’s about my parents, I’d rather you didn’t,” he says cautiously, and I shake my head as I walk over to Michael to grab his hand. Shutting the door of the furnished bedroom, I head into the beautiful kitchen before he tries to lighten the atmosphere. “Are you gonna ask me about the finer workings of trying to escape notice? Because Owen’s much better at that than me.”
“You’re really great, so how come Joshua hates you, and you act like he doesn’t exist?” Gesturing around as Michael stiffens noticeably, I hate the uncomfortably intense grumbling in my gut. “You talk with all this wisdom, and you always know what to say, and you’re always there when Owen needs you . . . but why him?”
“I think you’ve had more than enough horror to last you a lifetime, Kaitlyn. Maybe, one day, you’ll know why, but I’d appreciate it if you’d drop the subject. Joshua and I did talk,” Michael admits, visibly agitated as he rubs his mouth and his palm against his jeans. “And it didn’t go well or as well as I may have hinted to Owen. Thanks for your kind words, though. It means a lot to me. I think, the ultimate lesson taken from that is I can’t undo the mistake I made, and we should leave it at that.”


