Quaid straightened and pushed to his feet. “Programming can be broken. I’m an example of that. And given what Halina’s done over the past twenty-four hours when she could have escaped you at any time, I’d say she’s already broken it. I think she’s operating out of pure emotion now—love and fear. Not programming. But hey . . . that’s just me.”
Quaid turned toward the house and shot a glance over his shoulder. “Get your ass inside and help us with this box. No one can read your writing. Not even your freaking twin.”
Mitch didn’t immediately return to the house. He spent some time thinking about what Quaid had said. It made a lot of sense. Would probably make a ton more sense if he could get Halina to talk about her childhood. He could certainly see why she hadn’t. Especially given his background of American baseball and apple pie.
He dragged himself toward the house, punching his radio to tell the four guys, two here, two on guard roadside, that he was going in.
Mitch heard laughter from inside before he’d even reached the porch. Climbing the stairs, he took in the warm glow emanating from the closed blinds over the windows and a small smile turned his mouth. He loved this group—every last damn pain in the ass—and he was grateful time and again for all of them.
He knocked and looked up when Teague pulled the curtain aside from the glass and peered out at him.
“This is an asshole-free zone,” Teague said and dropped the curtain back.
Mitch was too tired to be amused. “Then no one with a dick between his legs should be in there.”
“Out of the way, Creek.” Kai’s voice melted through the glass. “He gave you a chance when he didn’t want to.”
“Only because Alyssa made him,” Teague said.
The door opened and Mitch looked into Kai’s frustrated face. His green gaze swept Mitch’s face, assessing. “You look better than you feel.”
Mitch cocked his head. “Excuse—” Then he realized he must be even more twisted than he realized if Kai was picking up his emotional state. Mitch sidestepped Kai. “Don’t do that, Ryder. It’s creepy.”
Kai and Teague returned to the kitchen, where they were cleaning up from dinner. The thought of food made Mitch’s stomach growl, but his gut ached too much to eat anything substantial. He paused at the bar to grab a branch of green grapes from a bowl and popped a few in his mouth.
“How’s it going in here?” he asked as he turned and glanced into the family room.
“We’re all just working,” Kai said. “Guys are in place. Grounds are secure. Where’s Young? He’s got to pick sides once and for all.”
“I was just about to call him.”
Mitch turned toward the family room and found everyone staring. They were all stretched out on the furniture or floor, either playing with the kids or looking through documents. Everyone except Halina. And without her, the group suddenly didn’t seem complete. They were all quiet except for Kat, Mateo, and Brady. He met every adult gaze, each sending a different message, from confusion to frustration to pity.
He tossed a few more grapes in his mouth. Chewed. Lifted his brows. “Slow TV night?”
“You look like hell.” Cash set some papers aside and pushed to his feet. “Go catch a nap. I’ll take the radio and make rounds on the guys.”
The thought of a nap instantly brought Halina to mind. Brought the idea of pulling her into his arms, feeling her against him, tasting her lips, her skin, sliding inside her, watching her arch in pleasure . . . Then snap. The fear kicked in, dragging him below a murky surface he couldn’t clear.
Mitch handed Cash the radio with a muttered “Thanks” and turned down the hallway.
He paused at the base of the stairs, looking up, his hand covering the square head of the newel post. He didn’t have another fight in him. He felt weak. Needy. Not the best time to be near her. Yet he needed to know what she’d found.
“Mitch?”
Jessica’s voice startled him and he jumped, his hand falling from the post.
“Sorry,” she said. “I need to talk to you for minute.”
He ignored the quick beat of his heart and pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Find something good?”
With her arms crossed over her ribs, she pursed her lips and shifted them to the side. That’s when he noticed the apprehension in her eyes. “You could say that. But not what you think.” She tipped her head toward the formal living room. “Can we . . . ?”
“You sound like your husband. If you’re going to tell me all about the hell of Chechnya, we’ve already had that discussion.”
“Chechnya?”
“Never mind.” He turned into the formal living room and faced her. When she moved to close the pocket doors, he noticed something in her hand and a burn of alarm kicked up in his gut. “What’s going on, Jess?”
She turned toward him with a look in her eyes that made him realize he’d need those defenses he was too damn exhausted to pull up.
“When I took files from the box to split them up among everyone, I found this in the bottom.”
The words had his body tingling and his mind searching. She extended her arm and opened her hand to expose a familiar small blue box filling her palm. His stomach went hot just before his heart seized. But his mind tumbled backward in time, to him sitting in his office, elbows on thighs, holding the ring between his knees and staring at it while mumbling the words, “Will you marry me?” in Russian over and over until he got the pronunciation just right.
He remembered Halina coming home from work early that day . . . one of those last days . . . one of those bad days. Remembered panicking and stuffing the ring back into the nested boxes and tossing it in the nearest file box.
Then all hell had broken loose . . .
And he’d lost . . . everything.
Pain cut through him, so swift and sharp, his legs went weak and his head went light.
“Ah, fuck,” he whispered, dropping his head to his hands and turning to look for somewhere to sit before he fell on his ass.
Jessica grabbed his arm. “Behind you,” she said softly, easing him back to a padded bench along a bay window.
Mitch dropped hard and fell back against the blinds, smashing them to the glass. He couldn’t pull enough air into his lungs. Couldn’t find the strength to even sit up straight. He closed his eyes, more to hide from his own weakness than because he needed to. “Shit.”
Jessica didn’t speak. She ran her cool hand across his forehead, pressed it to his cheek.
“Sorry, Jess.” Automatic excuses rose to his mouth, but he didn’t feel like using them. Besides, he doubted Jess would believe them anyway. “I’ll be okay in a minute.”
“No, you won’t, honey.” Her voice overflowed with understanding and compassion. “You won’t be okay until you’re willing to face how much Halina still means to you. You won’t be okay until you decide to either let her go or go after her.”
Mitch opened his eyes to stare at the corner of the gilded ceiling. Jessica was sitting beside him. “You’re always so encouraging, Jess.”
“Maybe I’ll give up lobbying for inspirational speaking.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Mitch’s mouth. “Then you’ll have to put that lazy-ass husband of yours to work. Somehow I don’t think the pay will even out.”
Jessica laughed softly.
He lifted his head from the window. The room spun for a second, then stilled. He looked down at the box. “I’d completely forgotten about it.”
“Yeah, I kinda figured that out.”
“Did the others see it?”
Her warm eyes met his. “Of course not. We Hill people know how to keep secrets.”