“I won’t,” Lena promised. Owen stepped forward to put his arms around her, and she melted into him appreciatively. Her father nodded in approval and began to text the arrangements to his head of security.
“I’m glad you’re alright, Lena. And you too, of course, Mr. James,” Jeff Phelps spoke up. He’d been completely silent since his arrival, but now he seemed compelled to add his two cents. “I was with your dad when you called him, Lena. I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along. I was concerned. You hear the word shooting, and…” Phelps shrugged as if no further explanation was necessary.
“I appreciate your concern,” she replied coolly, not moving from Owen’s embrace. She felt his arms tighten around her a little, but he did his best to keep his expression neutral.
“Of course, dear. We’re practically family at this point.” His smile was slightly brittle, and he excused himself from the room a moment later to answer his cell.
“I need to head out as well, honey. You’re sure you’re alright? Do you want to stay at home tonight?” Nate asked once he’d ended his own phone call.
“I’m fine, Dad. I’d rather just go back to my apartment and unwind. We’ll wait for Wyatt though.”
“Alright, if you’re sure. Logan, your dad was on his way when I last spoke to him, but he was stuck in traffic. Do you need anything before I go?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, Nate.”
Lena hugged her father goodbye and watched through the window-wall as he made his way back down the corridor to where Phelps stood waiting for him. Owen and Logan were watching as well, and when the two older men had disappeared around a corner, Logan spoke up.
“Is it just me, or is that guy a bit of a creep?”
“It’s not just you,” Lena murmured. “But that’s a discussion for another time.”
“Come on, let’s get that cleaned up,” Owen urged, nodding toward Lena’s knee as they walked into her apartment. “No arguing.”
“You’re rather bossy,” she said dryly, waving goodnight to Wyatt as she closed the door and shed her blood-stained coat.
“And you’re rather stubborn. You should’ve let one of the nurses take care of it.”
“It doesn’t need stitches or anything. Obviously, Logan’s injury was the bigger concern.”
Owen sighed and nudged her toward the kitchen. Lena’s jeans had torn when Logan had knocked her to the pavement, and the palms of her hands were a bit raw as well. She hadn’t complained about pain, but she hadn’t allowed anyone at the hospital to touch them either. Owen placed his hands on her hips and kissed her forehead at the hairline.
“Please just let me take care of you.”
Lena looked up to meet his gaze, and she softened at the vulnerability in his eyes. She nodded silently, kicking off her socks and shoes and allowing him to remove her ruined jeans. Only her long, loose-fitting sweater remained, and when he lifted her up to sit on the kitchen counter, she felt strangely like a child. Owen pulled her small first aid kit out of the corner cabinet and set to work disinfecting the shallow scrapes on her palms first. The skin there was a little tender, but she didn’t flinch until he swabbed the abrasion on her knee.
“Sorry, babe,” he said softly, blowing on her knee to ease the sting.
Owen placed a large band-aid over the wound before leaning down to press his lips to it gently. It reminded her of the way he’d kissed the gash on the back of her neck so many times when they’d been together in the foster home. Lena closed her eyes and allowed the sweetness of the gesture to calm her. He was making her feel safe again, just as he had all those years ago. Her hands found their way to his hair, caressing the tangled curls lovingly. It was at times like this that she missed the blond in his hair the most, but when his green eyes found hers again, she could still see the frightened boy in them.
He couldn’t seem to stop touching her. It was as though he was trying to reassure himself she was really there, that she was truly breathing the same air and looking into his eyes with the same love that filled his own heart. Owen’s eyes shone with pain, relief, and love in equal measure, and Lena wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I’m just so glad you’re okay,” he whispered into her soft hair, clutching her tightly to his chest.
“I am. I promise.”
Lena felt his shoulders shake slightly and realized that he was attempting to hold back tears. She felt the tremulous hold she’d been keeping on her emotions begin to slip, and her eyes began to burn with tears of their own. She sobbed against his shoulder, and his arms tightened a little more. She felt even more like a child when he picked her up and allowed her to wrap her legs around his waist. Owen carried her into the living room and lowered them both to the couch, positioning her legs more comfortably on either side of his. For a few moments they merely held one another, rocking slightly back and forth as they sniffled and sobbed.
“Talk to me,” he murmured, rubbing her back in long, soothing strokes until she had calmed enough to speak again.
“I was scared,” Lena admitted quietly, still clinging to him. Had her head not been right next to his, he wouldn’t have heard her. “I didn’t really understand what was happening until Logan knocked me down. The shot came at the same time, and I… I kept waiting to feel pain, but it never came. And then I felt something wet on Logan’s coat,” she sniffled again. Owen didn’t need to ask what she meant, but he encouraged her to continue.
“And then?”
“He told me to hide under my car, so I did. I wanted to tell him to get under there with me, but he stood over me instead. He was blocking me from whoever was shooting…” Lena’s eyes unfocused for a moment as she recalled the events of the evening, watching them in a horrible kind of slow motion in her mind. “Logan saved my life.”
“He most certainly did,” Owen agreed, his low voice trembling. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if anything had happened to you. I can’t stand to even think about it…”
His voice cracked with a vulnerability that made Lena’s chest ache with sorrow. She leaned back slightly to look at him before kissing his tear-stained cheeks. He kissed her tears away as well, pressing his lips to every part of her face until he eventually reached her lips. It was sweet, even cautious, but after a few moments, the kisses lengthened and deepened. Lena’s hands framed his still-dampened cheeks before moving upward into his hair.
Owen’s arms were still around her torso, holding her impossibly close as his tongue began to explore her mouth. Lena felt his arousal beneath her and moaned softly against his lips, grinding her core against him. His jeans and the thin lace of her panties were the only barriers between them, and as the solid length of him pressed against her clit, her temperature seemed to rise several degrees.
She tugged his shirt over his head a second before he lifted hers as well, and both were tossed blindly across the room. They heard a muffled crash as one of the garments collided with a small table lamp, but neither of them stopped to look. Lena fumbled with the button of his pants, and Owen urged her to lift her hips so that he could help her. She awkwardly shed her panties, and they too ended up in some unknown part of the room. Lena sank onto him, and they expelled identical groans of appreciation.
It was like coming home.
They stared into each other’s eyes as she rode him, and the intensity was overwhelming. In that moment, Lena understood why so many babies were born roughly nine months after tragic events. There was something about being reminded of one’s own mortality that made a person want to savor every good human experience and sensation. Be it a perfectly-cooked steak, a sinful dessert, or a soul-binding sexual experience…
They were both basking in the beauty and sheer luck of being alive and together. Their hands were everywhere as they moved together, thrusting and rolling their hips until they shattered within seconds one another. They flew together through the waves of exquisite pleasure, clinging to each other as though their bodies, like their hearts, had melded into a s
ingle being.
As Owen lay with his arms around his sleeping lover a short while later, Lena’s words replayed in his head. Logan James had indeed saved her life. Owen knew without a doubt that Logan would always be a part of her life, which meant he would be a part of Owen’s as well. He shook his head in the darkness at the strange evolution of his own feelings. The guy had admitted to being in love with Lena just two weeks ago, but Owen would’ve hugged him that very moment if he could have. He hoped that whatever girl had captured Logan’s attention would help him to let go of his non-platonic feelings for Lena. Perhaps they could all be friends…
I’m more mature than I thought, Owen realized. True, he’d reacted badly to meeting Logan, but he’d learned his lesson quickly. It all boiled down to trust. He trusted Lena. Even if Logan ended up pining away for her for the rest of his life, he knew that Lena would never entertain the prospect of being anything other than his friend. And with Owen’s new understanding of Logan as a man of honor, he knew that he could trust him not to cross the line. Granted, it might take some time for the two of them to actually be friends, if they ever got to that point at all, but Owen could no longer view him as a threat.
He gently brushed a lock of scarlet hair away from Lena’s temple, and his thoughts shifted again, this time drifting back to the conversation he’d had with Mary earlier that evening. It seemed as though a lifetime had passed in those few hours. The mere thought of what his life might look like without Lena in it had made him even more determined to move forward with his plan to propose.
Owen wanted to tie himself to her in every possible way. The sooner, the better.
Epilogue
Nate ended another call to his head of security rather abruptly and scowled out the window of his town car. Phelps sat opposite him in the backseat, raising his brows curiously at his friend’s short temper.
“No luck with the security detail?”
“Matthews wants to hire a few new people. We usually have a couple on standby for emergencies like this, but one of them is on leave and another quit last week,” Nate explained.
“Ah, yes. Jansen’s wife had a baby, right?” Phelps didn’t wait for a response before continuing, “You know, I have a contact you might find useful. His name is John Cook…” He paused, searching through his smartphone for the man’s information.
“Does he have experience?”
“Yes, he’s ex-military police. He’s respectful and likable, and he doesn’t look that much older than Lena. I’m sure he’d blend in on campus well enough, which should make her feel more comfortable.”
“I’m sure it would. Thanks, Jeff.”
“Not at all,” Phelps waved him off. “I’ve just sent you his number, and he almost always answers immediately. He’s worked for me a few times in the past, but there really hasn’t been a need for me to have a full-time security detail. Unless of course you think there’s a need now…?”
“I don’t know yet, but it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea. Matthews is checking the known threats, but it’ll take a while to go through them thoroughly. I wouldn’t head into any dark alleys alone until we know who’s behind this.”
“Or parking lots,” his friend mumbled, shaking his head in dismay.
Phelps reached across the seat to cover Nate’s hand with his own, and Nate’s eyes darted nervously toward the front seat where his driver was studiously ignoring them. He squeezed Phelps’ hand tightly for only a moment before reluctantly pulling away. Nate’s expression was one of remorse and longing, but Phelps’ features remained as smooth and neutral as ever.
“I’m very glad Lena and her friend are alright.”
Nate nodded soberly, shuddering at the reminder of how very close he’d come to losing his daughter that night. If Logan hadn’t been there or if the bullet had been just a few inches in either direction, it might well have lodged itself in her head or chest. His own chest ached with emotion, and he felt a renewed determination to resolve the tension that had lingered between them for the last few weeks.
He glanced across the enclosed space to the man who was unknowingly at the center of that tension and sighed with regret. Lena’s accusations had put Nate in a difficult position, and he’d never been so close to revealing the true nature of his feelings toward his business partner as he had been that day in his office. He hoped that Jeff’s presence and concern at the hospital this evening would make it clearer to Lena that she’d been mistaken about him. It was comforting to hope that at least one good thing could come from such a terrifying event.
After the car dropped him off at GC, Phelps checked in with his secretary and then headed home for the evening. His chauffeur kept silent throughout the journey, allowing Phelps to get lost in his own thoughts as he gazed out the window. The blurring of traffic lights in the shimmering darkness of a gentle Seattle rainstorm passed before his eyes without truly being seen.
Jeff Phelps had been siphoning money from GC since the early days following the merger with Phelps Manufacturing three years ago. In the chaos of reorganizing personnel and computer databases, it had been relatively easy to disguise a few shell companies as legitimate GC accounts. His new position as CFO had granted him a generous amount of leeway, and over time, his apparent micromanagement of those accounts had simply been accepted as an eccentricity.
It had never been about the money, of course. Phelps’ annual salary was several times the sum he’d embezzled. In a company the size of Gardner Components, ten million over a span of several years was easily explained by any number of things. An objective observer might scratch his head at his motives, but Phelps was entirely secure in his logic. It was a way of proving, at least to himself, that he could outsmart Nathaniel Gardner with very little real effort on his part. Anyone who had been forced to surrender their hard work, their blood and tears, to a man who was mediocre at best when it came to business affairs would have understood his perspective.
Nate hadn’t nudged so much as a toe into the business world until his late thirties, and his quick success had baffled more than one of their peers. Many praised his superior intellect and cunning, but Phelps knew better. Nate had achieved his wealth and notoriety by little more than good timing and fortunate circumstances.
The indignity of losing his company to a man like that had ignited a flare of anger in Phelps’ gut that had slowly grown in intensity over the following years, and it was now an inferno of rage that he carefully concealed from the rest of the world. Not even his daughter Madalyn, who had been helping him cover the evidence of the theft, knew the depth of his hatred for Nate Gardner. As willing as Madalyn might have been to help in exchange for a cut of the profits, Phelps doubted that she would have approved of his most recent actions.
His covert embezzlement had long since necessitated some extreme measures when it came to maintaining his cover. Placing audio listening and recording devices in Nate’s office had been a practical step taken in the interest of self-preservation. It had always allowed him to stay one step ahead of the game, and he’d never heard much on the recordings that had truly surprised him… At least not until a few weeks ago.
Phelps had been begrudgingly impressed by Lena Gardner’s intuition and deductive reasoning skills as he’d listened to her plead with her father not to overlook the red flags of the embezzlement. When she’d first begun to lay the foundation for the discussion, Phelps had known immediately what she’d intended to reveal. He’d held his breath as the conversation had played out, releasing it only when Nate had dismissed her allegations. Phelps had apparently played his part even better than he’d realized. It wasn’t until a few moments later that the recording delivered an even bigger shock.
Phelps had worked hard to build a kinship with Nate, and he knew that the relationship was poised just on the edge of becoming something more intimate. Phelps had no romantic interest in Nate, but it was a weakness he was perfectly willing to exploit in his enemy, at least as long as Nate remained too inhibited to be open
about his sexuality. A loaded glance here, a covert touch there, and Nate had quickly drawn the mistaken conclusion that Phelps was suffering equally from their forced separation.
Nate had come to think of him as family, and as a result of that relationship, Phelps knew that Nate was hoping for a relatively early retirement from GC. Unfortunately, Nate had always put off any detailed discussions of those plans for a later date, so Phelps had had no idea that the idiot intended to put the company into the hands of his daughter. He’d been shocked to hear it discussed so casually over the recording, as if it were a foregone conclusion that a slip of a girl barely out of college would be able to effectively spearhead a fifty billion-dollar corporation.
Absolute madness, Phelps growled inwardly as his driver exited the freeway in the direction of his private estate. Nate’s idiotic plan was nothing more than his own sentimental thinking when it came to his daughter and her reluctant involvement in GC. Phelps was fairly certain that Lena didn’t want to run her father’s company any more than she wanted a root canal, but clearly, she was too much of a coward to speak up and say so.
In spite of his embezzlement, Phelps had worked tirelessly for GC for the last three years. He’d been left with no choice but to sacrifice his own company and fall in line behind a man he secretly despised, but he’d always assumed that when Nate was ready to retire, the torch would pass to him. He couldn’t fathom why Nate would think that any of their employees would accept the leadership of such an unqualified child.
The inferno of rage that always bubbled just below the surface had surged out of control as he’d listened to the recording. He couldn’t let it happen. It was inconceivable.
And thus was hatched his plan to remove Eleanore Gardner from the equation.
Ember (Constant Flame Duet Book 1) Page 35