Mitch’s gaze searched for Mateo. He was there, but so damn small with his knees pulled into his chest and his head ducked, hiding beneath Dex’s big body like a pup. His dark eyes gazed stoically out from beneath a fringe of golden curls while his tiny hand remained fisted in Dex’s collar.
Halina’s dazed eyes wandered haphazardly before finding Mitch’s. She instantly focused. “Are you okay?” When he nodded, she righted herself and brushed glass off Dex’s fur, feeling over his body while her gaze searched Kat. “Honey, are you—?”
One of the guards, Dillon, swept in, reaching for Kat. Another one stood behind, ready to grab Mateo.
Dex shifted his body to cover Kat’s again. With his lips peeled back, ears flat against his head, he snarled and snapped.
Dillon yanked his hands back, shaking one out with a “Holy shit.”
“Tikhiy, Dex,” Halina said, sounding breathless, and Dex transitioned into a whimpering, worried pup again. “Go ahead. Take her.”
Dillon pulled Kat into his arms just as Nelson came out of the office carrying Brady, whom he’d taken from Teague.
Cash appeared beside the second guard and pulled Mateo in to his arm, crouched to check Halina. More snarls rolled from Dex’s peeled lips.
“Tikhiy, Dex,” Halina repeated.
A mournful whine ebbed from Dex’s chest. The dog lowered his head, nuzzled Mateo’s hair from his face, and licked him. Mateo in turn wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck and whispered, “Thank you,” with the same simplistic inflection he had for the gift of his crayons earlier.
“Basement,” Teague ordered. “Full security.”
Cash exchanged a look with Mitch. He sent a glance toward Halina before meeting Mitch’s gaze again. “Do you . . . need anything?”
“No. Go.”
He disappeared with Mateo. Dex danced in place impatiently, his gaze darting between the door the kids had disappeared behind and Halina, whining.
“Hold still,” Halina said, breathless, her shaking hands working at his collar.
Mitch’s heart hammered. Keira was already at the windows with a high-powered rifle, scoping out the shooter. Luke, Kai, and Quaid had disappeared into the other half of the house.
Teague crouched beside them. The house was now freezing, even with adrenaline filling Mitch’s veins.
“Baby, his collar is fine . . .” Mitch covered Halina’s hands with one of his. Glass sliced into his skin and he swore, pulling back. He yanked the shard from his palm and sent a questioning glance between Halina and Teague.
Teague read his concern and bent to look into Halina’s eyes. “Halina, are you hurt?”
“No. Help me with his collar . . . my hands . . . won’t work,” she panted between breaths.
Teague unfastened the collar.
Halina released a breath, then murmured, “Go.”
Dex sprinted to the door leading into the basement and pawed at it. When it didn’t open, he jumped, hit the handle with his paw, and when the latch freed up, pushed it open with his muzzle.
“That’s pretty slick,” Teague said.
Halina swept the collar from Teague’s hand and held it tight to her chest. She shivered and her teeth chattered. “Thank you.”
Mitch lowered a questioning brow at Teague and murmured, “Shock?”
“Single white male,” Keira said, voice cool as steel. Mitch turned to find her speaking into a radio. “In a ghillie. Across the meadow on a ridge. Retreating in a dark green Ford F-150.”
Teague turned toward the others reentering the room.
“All clear,” Luke said.
Mitch rolled to a seat, wincing, and helped Halina do the same. He checked her eyes and found them still dazed. Pupils as tight as a pin.
“Halina, let’s get you warm.” He put a hand to her jaw, avoiding the cuts oozing blood down her face. “Can you stand?”
Her eyes, so light they looked almost colorless, made incremental jumps over the destruction and finally landed on his face again. “His working collar. Shouldn’t have it on in the house.”
Only, that’s not what he’d asked. And Dex had been wearing the collar since Mitch had met the dog. He’d had the collar on in both hotels. He’d had it on here since they’d arrived.
Mitch brushed her hair back from her face. “You’re okay. Dex is okay. Does anything hurt bad?”
Her gaze focused and moved over him. And the panic in her eyes rose. “It was him. Abernathy. He was . . . he was . . .” Her gaze jerked down, over Mitch’s chest. Without releasing Dex’s collar, her bloody, shaking fingers started yanking at the buttons. “Take it off. Take this damn thing off.”
He looked down. Took hold of her wrists. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“No more.” She violently pulled out of his grasp and ripped two buttons off. She ground out her words. “No more . . . white shirts. I don’t ever . . . want to see you wear . . . a white shirt again.”
More Jerks. More buttons ticked to the floor. The icy air bit into the skin of Mitch’s chest. Tears streamed down her face and mixed with blood.
Mitch fought to get a solid hold on her wrists, every touch ripping at his skin. Finally, he grabbed hold and pulled hard to bring her back from the edge of wherever she’d gone.
“Halina. What’s wrong with white shirts?”
“You’re . . . always . . . in a white shirt . . . when you . . . die.”
“When I . . . what are you talking . . . ?” But then he remembered the car accident. He’d been wearing white then too.
He looked to his right, where bullets had pierced the kitchen island. If Halina hadn’t seen it coming, he and Kat and Mateo would be dead. Already drained of blood on Alyssa’s kitchen floor.
Jesus. The icy reality cut at his belly.
She’d saved his life. Again.
And she’d risked hers doing it. The way she’d risked Schaeffer’s abuse to try and save his job.
He gathered her into his arms as gently as he could, and she held on tight. Still shivering, teeth clicking together. Her touch shot electric shocks of pain through his body, but he didn’t let go.
“My fault.” She pressed her warm mouth to his bare chest. “All my fault. I told you . . . I can’t be here.”
“Our guys are after them,” Keira said. “Someone else is up on the ridge, but they’re not pursuing. Looks like Fish and Game.”
“I’ll . . . g-go.” She pulled away and met his eyes. The terror was still there, but the daze had cleared. “I’ll go g-get the papers from the apartment. You st-stay with the others.”
“No—”
“I won’t run, I p-promise. I’ll get the box and bring it b-back.” She hiccupped and her beautiful eyes pleaded with him. “I have to get away from here. He wants me and I’m putting everyone else in d-danger. We need to separate.”
He wrapped his hands around Halina’s head and lifted her face until she looked him in the eye. “You’re right, we should go somewhere—”
“No. Not we. Me. Just me. He was trying to kill you to make me cave. But he won’t kill me. He can’t. Not until he gets what he wants.” She curled her fingers around his shoulders. “You’re not safe with me. You never have been. I need to go alone.”
Never have been . . .
The words swirled in his head for a second, needing attention, but he couldn’t focus on that. “Not happening, Halina. I’m not letting you go it alone again.” He put his forehead to hers and whispered. “Together, we’re strong, remember?”
“No.” Something shifted in her eyes. Something edged with resignation and hopelessness. And pain. “Together, we’re dead.”
Halina pulled from him, struggled to her feet, and turned.
“Halina, don’t—”
Mitch reached for her, but she stepped away and by the time he got to his feet, Alyssa stood in his path, her gaze intent.