Page 8 of Valor

“Take a breath, Owen,” she teased.

The corner of his mouth tipped upward in a crooked smile. “I tend to eat fast. Sorry.”

“Me too. Comes from working as a nurse and knowing I could be interrupted by a patient call at any time.” She took a bite of the hash brown potatoes, cooked crispy just the way she liked them. “Yum. Breakfast was a good choice.”

He arched a brow. “Hard to mess up a breakfast meal.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his logic. “True.”

When they’d finished eating, Jolene brought their bill. Owen already had the cash on the table for her. He held her gaze. “Ready?”

“Sure.” She felt much better for having eaten. Oddly, she was wide awake now, despite not getting more than a few hours of sleep. Usually, she was groggy until she’d gotten a full night’s rest.

She knew the crash would come eventually. Rising to her feet, she followed him back outside. The warm spring breeze washed over them, bringing the scent of wildflowers. Emily loved this time of the year. The winters were long, but the summers were about perfect.

Owen seemed on edge as they walked back to the SUV, his body tense as he swept his gaze over the area. She glanced around, too, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The way he was constantly on high alert was exhausting.

She wanted to point out that being an outlaw was a lousy way to live, but she knew that would only make him angry. She didn’t think Owen would hurt her, but he was dangerous. She had watched him shoot the man who’d tried to choke her to death. Then how he had proceeded to draw her out of the house without giving the dead guy a second glance.

Oh yeah, Owen was dangerous all right. She’d be foolish to think he’d changed his life around after recovering from his gunshot wound.

She settled into the passenger seat, glancing at her phone. If she were smart, she’d call Doug and tell him where to find them. It occurred to her that Owen would be better off in jail, away from the bad guys who were obviously gunning for him.

And if she were honest, she’d admit that she’d rather know Owen was alive and behind bars than dead.

When she subtly tugged her phone from her pocket, his hand shot out to grab hers. “Don’t.”

She let go of the phone. “I was just...” She couldn’t come up with a convincing lie. She didn’t do well with lying. She wasn’t smart enough to keep what was real from what was pretend straight.

“You were going to call your brother to come and get you.” Owen’s tone was flat and somewhat resigned.

She didn’t bother to deny it.

“You’ll get your chance to do that later.” Owen held her arm for a long moment before releasing her. “I need some time before you make that call.”

That’s what she was afraid of. “Time for what?”

He sighed. “To disappear.”

She couldn’t hide her disappointment. “You could talk to my brother, tell him what you know in exchange for a lighter sentence. I know he’ll work with you to bring down the rest of the bad guys before they can come after you again.”

“Not if the bad guys are pretending to be the good guys.” He scowled, then added, “Enough, Emily. I’m not going to turn myself in. I still have things I need to accomplish that cannot be done from a jail cell.”

She blinked back sudden tears, staring blindly out the passenger window. What had she expected? Doug was right when he’d accused her of romanticizing the kidnapping incident. The fact that Owen had not only protected her from the others, but had also treated her with kindness and respect didn’t mean anything.

He was still a criminal. An outlaw. And hoping that he’d reform into an upstanding citizen was a ridiculous dream.

Not reality.

The silence stretched for miles. It wasn’t until she saw the sign announcing they were five miles from Greybull that she realized her time with Owen was likely coming to an end.

She gestured to the billboard advertising a hotel. “That might be an option.”

“Too big. We need something smaller.” He barely glanced at her. “One with the type of accommodations that prevents them from asking questions.”

“Fine with me.” There was no point in arguing. Owen probably already had a place in mind. “Hopefully, there’s a vacancy.”

He grimaced. “It’s Thursday. Should work out if we only request one night. Besides, it’s not like we’ll be using the place for long.”

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