She squeezed her eyes shut for just a moment. Long enough to envision one of her sparring partners standing behind her, pushing her to give it her all.
He gripped her arm and pain shot along her biceps. “Hali—”
“Sorry,” she whispered, and threw her elbow into his ribs. He grunted and his air released against her shoulder.
She pushed up on her toes, squeezed her eyes closed on another whispered “Sorry, sorry,” and slammed her head back, connecting with his forehead. Pain flashed in her skull, but as soon as he stumbled backward, she turned to face him. She waited half a second, hoping that hit would take him to the floor, but he lifted his head, his eyes dazed and hot with anger. Blood trickled down his forehead, making Heather’s stomach pinch.
“Mitch, stop,” she said. “You have to let me go. You have to stop looking for me.”
He gripped the bed’s footboard with one hand, pressed the other to his forehead. If she’d thought he was pissed when she’d surprised him in the shower, he was now homicidal. Nostrils flaring, eyes darker than Heather had ever seen them.
“I won’t stop following you until I have all the answers to this clusterfuck, Ha—”
She stepped in and kicked out, aiming for his solar plexus. Sorry, sorry, sorry. But Mitch saw it coming and grabbed for her leg. Heather pulled the kick, trying to keep from breaking his ribs or—God forbid—stopping his heart, and escaped Mitch’s hand. He grunted, flew back, and hit the wall.
Halina turned, hauled the door open, and raced down the stairs. She had to grip the handrail to keep from tripping herself. Her mind raced in every direction. She didn’t start thinking in a straight line until she was halfway home.
She sped down the main boulevard, squealing around corners. “Okay, okay, it’s okay.” She strangled the steering wheel with both hands. “If he was followed, they’ll know where I am. They’ll come after me, not him. They want me. If he’s not with me, he’ll be fine.”
On her street, she slammed the remote opening the garage, jumped the curb, and skidded to a stop in the driveway. She bolted from her car, door open, engine running. She just needed Dex. He was the one and only thing she’d never leave behind. Nothing else mattered.
She ducked under the garage door as it opened and rushed into the house. Dex was there to greet her as always. Halina didn’t pause to snuggle like she always did, but raced past, using her momentum to ricochet off the far wall on the way to her bedroom.
Dex gave an excited bark and followed.
“No, baby, not playing,” she said, breathless, as she jerked Dex’s favorite blanket off the bed, grabbed a couple of chew toys nearby, and shoved her hand between her box spring and mattress. Her second Heckler & Koch touched her palm, cool and smooth, and she jerked it out and pushed it into her waistband—where the weight of three weapons now nearly took her pants to her knees. At her feet, Dex whined and pranced in place. His nails tapped on the floor and clicked against Heather’s nerves.
“Okay, come on.” She pivoted and nearly tripped over him in the tight space alongside her bed. “Shit, Dex, out.”
He danced out of her way, tail swaying, eyes bright. She rushed into the garage and ordered Dex to load up with a breathless “Zagruzka.”
He beat her to the car and jumped in the back. Heather slid into the front seat, slammed the door, dropped her three weapons into the center console, and jerked the transmission into reverse.
A dark car swept in from the street like a rabid raven, screeching to an angry stop and blocking Heather’s driveway. She slammed on the brakes, Dex slid along the smooth leather backseat.
Her stomach plummeted. “No.” She slammed her hand against the steering wheel. “No!”
A low growl vibrated in Dex’s throat.
“Dammit.” She pushed the gear into park and left the car running. If she had to, she’d smash that rental to get out of here without him. “Dammit, he doesn’t understand.”
And she couldn’t make him fully understand without risking everything.
By the time she’d opened her door, Mitch was rounding the hood of his car. The combination of moonlight, streetlights, and headlight side beams turned the rage on his handsome face into shadows of menace. Skin taut, brows pulled low over fiery eyes, he advanced up her driveway. He’d pulled on a T-shirt, jeans, and running shoes, but hadn’t bothered to fasten the jeans or tie the shoes.
“Don’t pull any of your self-defense shit on me, Halina, because I won’t hold back from hurting you this time.” His voice was as threatening as Dex’s growl. So much fury rasped through his tone, the hair on Heather’s arms rose. “And don’t even think about pointing a gun at—”
Dex launched into a ferocious barking fit. His attack bark, enraged and vicious, included glaring teeth and guttural snaps that made even Heather flinch.
Mitch froze midstep. His gaze darted past her and held on the car. She didn’t have to look to know Dex was clawing and snapping at the windows. She’d trained him. Hours and hours of training, just like her fighting. And her shooting. She should have spent more time developing emotional barriers to Mitch. Would have if she’d thought this confrontation was ever a possibility.
“What the hell is this, Halina?” he demanded from several yards back.
“Stay away, Mitch, or I’ll open the door.” She kept a grasp on the handle, though she had no intension of releasing Dex.
“Who the hell are you?” He jammed his hands on his hips. “You’re acting like a goddamned Russian spy.”
The taunt created a dull, dirty ache in her chest, as if she’d been stabbed with a rusted knife. But even she was having a hard time not thinking of herself as Halina since he’d shown up. As the deceitful Russian who’d come from a murky past.
She held up a closed fist. Dex’s bark ceased immediately. A few residual mewls rolled out of his throat before he went completely quiet and still. He remained sitting tall in the backseat, his gaze burning into Mitch through the slobber-smeared rear window.
“I don’t know what to think about you anymore,” Mitch said. “All the lies. The hiding. The secrets. Everything that happened back then. Everything that’s happening now. I swear to God, Halina, I’m seriously reaching here. I’ve seen my share of crazy shit and I’ve discovered my mind can bend in ways I used to think would make it break, but you”—he tossed his hands in the air—“I don’t get.”
Heather glanced at the neighbor’s windows. “Shh. You’re going to wake the whole damn neighborhood.”
“Your dog has already done that, or did you miss the whole Cujo scene?”
“You don’t have to get me.” She spoke slow and steady in hopes of holding herself together. “And I don’t have time to explain myself to you.”
She turned for the car. In her mind, she was already out the driveway, on the freeway, headed toward the storage unit. She’d have lots of time to get this mess straight in her head once she was on the road.
“Halina.” The hard edge to Mitch’s voice stopped her from pulling the door open. “I know you were a scientist for the Department of Defense when you told me you were working for Georgetown Medical Center. I know you worked under Gil Schaeffer at DARPA before he became a senator.”
Regret stabbed her chest, but it was nothing compared to the fear taking over, making her shake. Overwhelming her like it had in that last month with Mitch, when she’d made all those drastic decisions. Memories she’d learned to suppress rose to the surface and she was suddenly reliving the nightmare of working at DARPA. The night closed in, pressing on her lungs, making it hard to breathe.