Won't Let You Go | Owen Grady

Chapter TwentyThree

Two Years Ago

As a series of white, fluffy clouds trailed overhead, Charlie sighed, buzzing air out through her lips. "I wonder if the Stegosaurus vitamins are having the desired effect," she mused, turning in her beach chair and reaching towards her rose gold iPhone. A large hand slapped down on top of it, blocking the screen, keeping her from checking for stray notifications.

"Saunders, we're at the beach. You're not checking your damn work email!" Owen chastised her, grabbing her phone and sliding it into the pocket of his blue swim trunks, before taking a long sip of Corona with lip, the golden liquid fizzing around his lips. "Can't you just enjoy the day off? Look! Blue sky, ocean, sand, beer." He looked at her expectedly.

"Owen, this is the beach right outside our bungalows. This isn't a vacation. It's just home," Charlie rolled her eyes, shoving his arm playfully. "This isn't anything but a rare day off. And that's only if one of us doesn't get called in to do something, which is still a very real possibility. Not that I'll know, since someone took my phone." She stuck her tongue out at him then took a sip of her own beer, then stared back out into the ocean. It was beautiful, but it was also just the same thing she saw every day. "Imagine if there were dinosaurs out there, in the ocean...Plesiosaurs, Nothosaurus, Elamosaurus..." She began listing them off as she stared at the waves, imagining what could be hidden in the murky depths.

"They'd obliterate some ships, probably. Wouldn't want to be on a summer cruise, aye?" Owen side-eyed her, breaking her concentration on the beauty of history. She turned and shoved him in the arm. "You're really something, Saunders. Anyone ever told you that?" He asked, staring at the freckles that crossed the bridge of her nose, brought on by too much time in the sun.

"Yea I've heard that a time or two," She grinned back, before downing her beer and turning back to look out at the ocean. "And I swear to god, Owen, if I don't have my phone back in my hand in ten minutes, you won't live to see twenty." She looked over and they locked eyes again. She didn't dare look away.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Present Day

Charlie's eyes widened as she watched Owen crash to the ground, hands scrambling to keep the gnashing teeth away from his face. She felt like her heart leapt into her chest as she looked around frantically, searching for something she could use, anything at all really, to get the creature away from him. She'd settle for a margarita glass she had to smash over it's head, if she had to. And then, her eyes landed on the gun which had been knocked from his hands when the dinosaur attacked. Without a second thought, she lunged, grabbing it and aiming at the body, furthest away from Owen's face, and took a steady breath.

She remembered the moments when she was young, learning to shoot with her father. She remembered how he taught her to respect animals, to hunt to eat, not just to kill. Unfortunately, she wasn't really in the optimal situation for that. All the same, it taught her what she had to do in this moment. She couldn't not. As she stared and saw the jaws snapping, the loud clacking sound echoing through her skull, she had to act. She shot once, twice, three times, until the creature stopped fighting, drooped limply. Whatever it would take to get it off of Owen, to keep him alive. She would have done it again, and again. And then she kicked it off of his chest, breathing heavily, forgetting what it felt like to not be running, to have oxygen back in her lungs.

She stepped over, brushing her blonde hair out her face then extending a hand down to Owen, not wincing this time as his fingers wrapped around her wrist and he used her help to stand, until he was right in front of her and she was staring up into his steady, narrow eyes. The chaos around them seemed to just fade away, until it was just the two of them, staring at each other. Nothing else had mattered to her in that moment, nothing but getting to him, then saving him.